Page 89 of Here We Go Again

“Okay,” I say.

He nods once, then he turns, grabs my hand, and leads us into the house.

23

BECCA

Theo is already in the water when I make it out to the pool.

Behind me, the house is dark and quiet, so I assume our mothers have both gone to bed. I’m grateful; I’m not sure I could handle one of my mother’s piercing looks. Not when I’m already so close to undone.

The patio lights are off, but there’s a hazy blue glow coming from the pool, and the moon is hanging heavy over the horizon, reflecting off the gulf below.

I drop my towel on a nearby deck chair and edge around the pool to the stairs at the far end. Even this late, the air is still thick with heat and humidity, so the cool water is a welcome relief. I descend the stairs even as Theo swims over, stopping a few feet away.

“This was a good idea,” I say as I immerse myself down to my shoulders.

“It’s hard to believe there’s anywhere hotter than Atlanta,” Theo says, “but I think Florida wins.”

I make my way back to the stairs and sit down, letting my hands float on the top of the water. Theo follows, sitting close enough for a conversation to be easy, but not so close that we’re touching. There’s a tension in his body that makes it clear he has something to say, like the words have filled him up and he isn’t going to relax until he says them all.

We sit for a long moment, the silence stretching long enough that now I’m starting to feel tense. But then Theo clears his throat.

“The night my dad died,” he begins, “Carter had to do some extra sprints after practice, so Dad and I went to get food, then said we’d circle back to get him after he was done. So we left and picked up some burgers. We ate them in the car, but before we headed back to the rink, Dad confronted me.” He glances over and meets my eye, his expression warm, a little rueful. “About you, actually.”

My eyebrows lift. “About me?”

“He, uh…” He lets out a little chuckle. “I guess Mom had been doing laundry and she went through my gym bag and found a box of condoms?”

Heat crawls up my cheeks as I suck in a gasp. “Oh no.”

Growing up, I never thought I’d be the girl who had sex in high school. My parents always encouraged me and my sisters to wait, if not for marriage—which was definitely their preference—at least until we were old enough to be sure it was what we wanted. To be careful, intentional, and old enough to accept the consequences of our actions.

But I was so desperately in love with Theo. I was sure. Even with how things ended, I can’t regret that he was my first. That we figured it out together.

“I was totally mortified,” Theo says, “but in retrospect, I realize how much worse the conversation could have gone.”

“Was he angry?” I ask.

He shakes his head no. “I think he was disappointed we didn’t wait until we were older, but he wasn’t angry. He said he was glad we were being safe. He asked if I was in love with you. I said I was, and he told me that’s the way it should always be—that love should always be a part of it.”

He lifts his hands to the back of his neck and takes an intentional deep breath, and there’s a slight quiver to his exhale. He lets out a little laugh. “Sorry. I’ve never actually told anyone about this conversation.”

No one. Not even his brother?

“You’re doing great,” I say softly, my heart squeezing at the realization that this would have been the last conversation he had with his dad.

Theo gives me a small smile, his eyes soft. “He told me he hoped the two of us made it. He loved you, Bec. He always said he thought you were good for me. But then he made me promise that if we ever broke up and I was dating again, I would always treat sex like something important—that I would never let it mean more to the other person than it did to me.”

“Your dad was a good man, Theo,” I say. “That’s good advice.”

He nods. “I promised. Told him I understood. Then we left and drove back to the arena, and that’s when we were hit.” He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching as pain slices across his expression.

I scoot closer and pick up his hand, weaving our fingers together.

“I never forgot the promise I made him that night,” Theo says, his voice so soft, I can barely hear him. “Which is why…”

His words trail off, and I wait, my heart rate climbing with every passing second of silence.