Page 14

I groan and cover my face with my hands.

Just last week, my only focus was studying, trying to catch up on all that I missed while helping my dad recover. Not only did I try and fail to set my dad up, but now Theo has figured me out and is bugging me after I’ve already dealt with the annoyance of Rachel’s request for sabotage.

Too much mess for my tired body, and my own little recess I took last night did nothing to help me figure out how to approach Theo.

“If I tell you, can you keep it to yourself?” My words are muffled as I press my palms deeper into my face.

Theo grabs my hands and pulls them off me. He is so close that if I hiccup, our noses will press together. “I can keep a secret,” he answers softly.

My entire brain freezes, glitches, and then restarts itself. It’s not until I take a step back and pull my hands away from his grip that it starts functioning fully once more.

Fine, it’s not like I can get away with never speaking to him again, so I tell him everything. Why I started the profile, what I planned to say when I met his mom, and every detail I can think of. I figure it’s better to overshare to avoid any unnecessary follow-up questions so this can be over and done with.

The whole time his face is impassive. Throughout my entire explanation, it remains so, even when he nods or cocks his head to one side or his brows furrow. I can’t tell if it means he’s angry with me underneath it all and is trying to hide it or he just wants me to be nervous about his reaction and his keeping his emotions under the surface.

A skill I’d normally appreciate, especially for a lawyer, if this were a different situation.

When I finish, there’s a gulf of silence between us as Theo rubs his thumb under his chin, his gaze keeping me rooted in place.

It’s irritating the way my nerves simmer under my skin. This usually isn’t like me; I’m more composed and outwardly sure of myself. Especially when I’m in a mock trial, it’s my job to make my opponents feel uneasy, but Theo is doing the same to me and I’m not sure he’s trying very hard at it.

But I want this to be over, so I give up on who will break the silence first, a game I unknowingly found myself playing. “So now what? Are you going to tell your mom?”

His answering hum makes my left eye twitch.

“And,” I continue, “are you going to explain why you were there?”

“I’m not a catfish,” he responds, crossing his arms over his chest. “But when my mom told me about her date with some man she met on an app—when she barely knows how to work a Google search—I got concerned. I took her phone while she was asleep, found out the time and place, and decided to show up instead. She’s been working so many night shifts, she was too tired to even notice the change.”

I mirror his stance. “And what were you going to do when you met up with my dad?”

“First, make sure he wasn’t a serial killer.” I open my mouth to protest his response but shut it just as fast. He was thinking about his mom, a woman far more in danger when showing up on a date with a stranger than the reverse, and I hate that it makes me respect him more at this moment. “And I wanted to make sure the guy was serious.”

Though I’m not in the position to question his motives since my crime is so much more severe than his, I ask, “Why?”

Theo sucks in a breath. “My mom is… different. A little eccentric. A lot too trusting. And not the best at making romantic decisions. This is the first time she’s dated online, sure, but she’s been married four times, and your dad is one of many.”

When I say nothing, he hurriedly adds, “I’m not shaming her or anything, but it doesn’t matter if your dad is the fifth or fiftieth date; my mom falls in love fast and hard and purely. I am just tired of her wasting it on people who won’t see her the same—which is a lot of men.”

“So you showed up to give my dad a warning of sorts.”

He shrugs. “Warning or plea, I’m not sure. It depended on what kind of man he was.”

“He’s the best,” I say automatically. “I can’t believe this happened.”

“Me either.” His thumb is back under his chin. “Every time I think about you being one way, you show an entirely different side of you.”

“I would rather you not think of me at all,” I say, wishing for medicine to combat my brewing headache. “Well, now that we’ve talked, can you go? Is it over now?”

He chuckles this light and airy sound that makes my stomach do a dozen flips. “It could have been, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to show you another side of me, and it isn’t so pleasant.”

I cross my arms. “Who said I thought you were pleasant?” You don’t think he’s unpleasant, though. I cringe inwardly. Shut up, brain.

“Okay, then this will be easier for me. You’re taking my case.”

“Excuse me?”

He nods. “You do this for me, and I keep my mouth shut about all of this. Parent-teacher conference is coming up; I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a seat beside your dad.”