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I even forgot it was raining.
Felicity
12:04 a.m.
I left a message for Cleo and Mark. “Hey, guys, I’m not sure what time it is there, but I’m heading to bed now. I will tell you all about my day tomorrow.”
After fixing my hair, I adjusted my breasts in the lacy nightgown I wore and stepped back into the bedroom to find Theo still asleep on the bed. I clasped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. He had taken off his shirt and pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs and socks.
I guessed I took too long. But he never said anything. Walking over to him, I took of his socks and placed them on the dresser of the house he had rented for our time here. I gripped the covers, but he grabbed my waist.
“Thanks, Mrs. Beauchamp,” he whispered as a grin spread over his lips.
“You were awake?”
He opened one eye and peeked at me. “I was just resting, but why would I stop you when you were taking such good care of me?”
I was going kill him. “Oh my gosh, you are—”
“Felicity, are you blushing?”
I jumped back and placed my hands on my flushed cheeks. “What are you talking about? I don’t blush. The room is just hot, okay?”
He sat up, finally noticing what I had on. “Is that for me?”
“No. I always sleep like this. You just haven’t seen it because I never planned to be over at your place.” I tried to hide myself under the covers.
“I thought you said it was hot?”
“Oh my God, Theo, can you just let me off the hook?”
He broke out laughing.
“I’m going to bed. Don’t touch me!” I snapped, more annoyed with myself than him. What was going on? I was the no-strings-attached one. The don’t-get-too-close one. I had walls higher than Mount Everest around me, yet Theo had somehow made me forget all of that.
This was not okay.
“You’re going to suffocate like that.” Theo lifted the covers off my head, and I glared at him.
I stared into his green eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach now. “I don’t know what came over me. We’re just supposed to be about sex.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
He rested his head beside mine. “Why is it supposed to be just sex?”
“Because I’m not a good person,” I replied. “I’m going to hurt you.”
“When will you move on and forgive yourself for what happened back then?”
I frowned. “She probably would have been a teenager or something now. The woman I hit had her daughter with her. She pushed her out of the way, and I remember her crying over her mother, shaking her. Screaming as the tears poured down her face. But I killed her. That woman hadn’t done anything wrong. Her daughter became an orphan. I did that. That girl, she needed her mother, and I robbed her of that. I know how it feels, and I did it to someone else. How do I move on from that?”
“By letting others help you.”
He didn’t get it. I was beyond help.
CHAPTER TWELVE
