Page 35

When the rehearsal drew to a close, everyone drifted out in batches. Finnley blew us a kiss. Julian vanished in a cloud of glitter and confidence. Milo packed up with quiet efficiency. Elliott lingered long enough to gaze at me with a thoughtful expression, then slipped away too.

Cameron spoke to Theo in a low voice before leaving, waving at me.

Theo waiting until everyone else had gone was never accidental.

He shut the studio door behind the last of them and leaned back against it. “Well. That was interesting.”

“That we sang mostly in tune?”

He bit his lip. “You rearranged the bass line mid-phrase. You never do that.”

“I adjusted.”

“You improvised,” he corrected. “You don’t like improvising unless something’s already living rent-free in your head.”

I picked up my water bottle and took a long drink. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Theo gave me a slow, patient smile. “You’ve been somewhere else all night.”

I set the bottle down. “If this is about Elliott⁠—”

“It’s not,” Theo fired back instantly. “This is about you.”

I sighed. “You’re going to tell me I need someone in my life again, aren’t you?”

“No, I already tried that. You shut me down.”

“Correct.”

He folded his arms. “I’m going to ask you a different question.”

I braced myself.

“I overheard your conversation with Elliott. I didn’t mean to listen, but your voices carried.” He cocked his head. “When did you decide keeping things separate was the same as keeping them safe?”

The words felt sharp. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Theo replied. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

I looked away, my jaw tight. The studio felt quieter now, stripped of voices.

“I learned the hard way,” I said at last. “Blurring lines costs people.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “It does.” I glanced at him, surprised, and he huffed out a sigh. “So does refusing to acknowledge when something’s already blurred.”

I arched my eyebrows. “You make it sound as though I’m in denial.”

“You’re not in denial. You’re in control.”

I stiffened.

“And control,” Theo added gently, “isn’t the same thing as certainty.”

I didn’t answer.

He pushed off the door and crossed the room, stopping a careful distance away from me, close enough to be present, far enough not to crowd.

“You don’t look panicked,” he said. “You don’t look reckless. You look…” He tilted his head. “Engaged.”