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CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Stella
Iknock quietly on the door. Part of me is secretly hoping he’s already asleep, but I know I’m only lying to myself.
I saw him standing like a creep in the window after Seb came down my throat in the car.
“Yeah,” he calls, and my stupid body sends nerves shooting through my veins.
Shaking my head at myself, I push the handle down and slip into the room.
Theo’s sitting in his bed, shirtless, with his laptop resting on his thighs.
“Come to explain?” he says coolly as he spins the screen toward me, showing me exactly what’s put that scowl on his face.
It didn’t occur to me when I told Seb to turn his cell off that the idiot back here who probably spent the last few hours worried about his beloved car was following us on the car’s app.
“Whoops,” I say, completely insincerely as I stare at the speed tracking he’s showing me.
“Whoops?” he asks, mocking me.
“Whatever,” I wave him off, walking farther into the room and dropping down on the edge of the bed.
It’s been a long day, and I’m fucking exhausted.
“How is he?”
“Passed out,” I say, thinking about how I left Seb snoring on his back. I only went for two minutes to pee, but it was all he needed. “He’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” Theo says confidently. “We won’t let him be anything else. Plus, you seem to have inventive ways to get him out of his head.”
I raise a brow at him.
“I should tell him you were watching.”
“You really think he’d care?” He quirks a brow.
“Ugh, whatever. We had an issue on the way home,” I confess.
Theo’s laptop gets thrown to the end of the bed and he’s out and standing at the window faster than I think I’ve ever seen anyone move.
“I didn’t crash your car, Cirillo,” I snap. “Glad to know you’re that confident in my skills.” I roll my eyes.
“You hit one hundred in the fucking city, Stella.”
I shrug, dismissing his comment.
“I wouldn’t have if some douche on a bike hadn’t taunted me into it.”
He turns away from the window, his eyes locking on me.
“Go on,” he demands, slipping back into bed.
Guilt washes through me that I never said anything to Seb at the time, although to be fair, there wasn’t really time for a fucking conversation.
“It was dark, I couldn’t see much, but he was wearing a cut.”
“Shit,” he hisses, scrubbing his hand over his face.
