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“Ugh.” I latched the chain and opened the door, peering at him through the crack. “What do you want?”
Theo reached out and flicked the chain as a smirk etched onto his face. “Is the chain really necessary?”
“It’s there to stop unwanted people entering the room, so I’d say it is.” I pushed my hair from my eyes. “What do you want?”
He held up a bottle of water and box of paracetamol. “You said you had a headache, so I thought this would help.”
Shit.
This was where he got me.
That stupid, considerate cinnamon roll side of his.
I opened my mouth to tell him I’d unlatch the door, then stopped. No—I wasn’t going to get sucked in. I was irritated by his sudden appearance at the party. I was pissed he hadn’t told me. I was still mad at his stupid, childish behaviour from a few days ago.
I wasn’t going to give in easily.
I shoved my hand through the gap and said, “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”
He pulled it back out of my reach. “Are you really not going to let me in?”
“What part of ‘the chain lock stops unwanted visitors’ doesn’t you understand?”
“The ‘unwanted’ part.”
“Theo, if you come in here, I’m going to tell you just how unwanted a visitor you are for me right now.”
He tilted his head to the side, maintaining eye contact with me. “Well, I am here to talk to you, so if it’ll make you feel better…”
“That’s not the point!”
A middle-aged couple in obviously expensive clothes passed behind Theo, and the woman shot me a dirty look that said I was being too loud and needed to shut up.
“Ugh.” I pushed the door shut, unlatched the chain, and yanked it open again. “Fine. Come in. But I can’t stay away for too long, or Aunt Fizz will worry. We probably only have twenty minutes, and I’d really rather you weren’t here for that entire time.”
“You’re unrelentingly honest tonight,” Theo said, closing the door behind him. He reached up and loosened the knot on his tie, then unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. “Take these first.”
I accepted the water and paracetamol. I scarfed down two of the pills and washed them down with a good gulp of the water. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair.
“For someone who was just told not to stay for long, you’re getting awfully comfy,” I told him. “Why are you here?”
“In London?”
“Yes, in London. Weren’t you still at the cottage this morning?” I folded my arms across my chest and leant against the windowsill, glaring at him. “Why are you here? How are you here?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, meeting my eyes. “I drove here. To see you.”
“Are you aware that the reason I left early was to get away from you?”
“No. You never said.”
“Because you were avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just following my schedule. I was shocked when I came back last night, and you were packed and ready to go to the airport.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t have a chance to say anything before you left.”
Shit.
