Page 32 of Unforeseen Love

“Now, you know that’s not true.” His fingers graze my cheek before he tucks the loose hair behind my ear, and it takes me a second too long before I lean out of his touch. “If I were anyone, I think you’ll find I’d be Gomez.”

With that, he winks and turns his back on me. “Have a nice day, love,” he says over his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

I don’t wait for him to come back before I’m hurrying out the front door and down to work, deactivating the main alarm when I enter. Going straight to the kitchen, I fill the kettle and switch it on, desperate for a caffeine fix.

I’d rather he brought up what happened last night, but no, not him. This is all some sick and twisted game––no doubt he’ll use it as a weapon at some point, but then again, what do I care? I’ll just deny it anyway. Besides, who would he tell?

I have an overwhelming urge to check social media, but there’s a flaw in my plan… I’m only on like two social media platforms and I rarely use them anyway, sod it, ignorance is bliss, especially after the TikTok scenario.

Reaching for the coffee canister, I pull off the lid to find it empty.

“This is a joke, right?”

I slam it back on the counter and hunt in the cupboard. As much as I love tea, it has nothing on my morning coffee fix.

“For fuck’s sake.” I come up empty handed. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a couple of deep breaths, resigning myself to the situation, because the thought of going back up to the flat fills me with unwanted anxiety.

I continue to inhale and exhale until I feel calm enough to make myself a cup of tea instead, when a familiar fragrance of aromatic aftershave washes over me, closely followed by the very fresh and unmistakable smell of my favourite coffee.

My eyes go to the open door, and sure enough, standing there in all his holy as hell glory, is Theo. And it’s not the suit he’s wearing or the smug smile on his face, it’s my to-go mug he has in his hand, the one he’s holding out in my direction.

I eye him suspiciously as he wiggles it gently towards me.

“Here. You were in such a hurry to scarper, I didn’t get a chance to tell you I had the last of the coffee on Saturday.”

His laugh rumbles up his throat as he steps closer, reaches for my hand, and places my favourite to-go cup in my palm, his lightest touch giving me goosebumps. I wrap my fingers around the tumbler, and he takes a step back.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s not poisoned,” he says, holding up his free hand.

I bite my lip and contemplate his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, he reaches out to take it from me. “Here, have mine instead, if you don’t believe me.”

Gripping it tighter, I pull it towards my chest and shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I trust you,” I say, surprising myself with my open omission.

ChapterTwenty

Theo

I grunt, sweat dripping down my temples as I hold my weight off the floor. I fucking hate planking, but having no gyms open is really taking its toll on my mental health. Whoevertheyare, they weren’t kidding about exercising releasing happy endorphins. Plus, I miss sex. Don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with a little hand action, but it’s not the same. Best kind of work out, in my humble opinion.

It's been a couple of days since Sienna caught me wanking off in my room, and as tempting as it was to bring it up, I held my tongue. I’m well aware I crossed a line, but am I sorry? Nope, not even a little bit. I like to see the walls crack in her perfectly put together exterior.

Falling face first onto my work out mat, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. Maybe I’ll slip out later and go for a ride, let off some excess energy. As much as I feel mentally exhausted, physically I’m anything but.

It’s almost as though the moment you’re told you can’t do something you want it or crave it more. When I moved back home, I expected to reconnect with some old friends, go out and have a laugh, and spend some quality time with Aunt Meredith and Uncle Ewan. I wanted to redeem myself for my absence––fucking Orla. As much as I want to put it all on her, I still had a say, but we’d argue, and then before I knew what was happening, I was apologising and giving in to her. She always had something more important.

If I thought she was bad before, it has nothing on how she’s behaving now. I could block her number––and I’ve considered it multiple times––but she’s a sneaky bitch, and she’d start ringing me at work.

I can’t believe it took me so long to see her excessive sense of entitlement, lack of empathy, and thirst for interpersonal exploitation. The toxic web she conjured was no joke, the way people perceived her as being the innocent party in our relationship. She’s a conniving sociopath. I even find myself feeling sorry for Ricky, but I also don’t––he still had a choice.

I shake away thoughts of her, not letting my day start thinking about her antics.

Pushing myself to a sitting position, I glance at my clock––shower and then breakfast.

When I pass Sienna’s room, her door is ajar and I can’t help but peek through the gap. She’s in the middle of her room, headphones on, and I wonder what it is she’s listening to.

But it’s not that which has my attention, it’s the sight of her doing a downward facing dog yoga pose, and I know this because Orla used to attempt to do yoga. I even did it with her for a while, but the better I became the worse her mood got, so I stopped––it takes away the entire point of yoga. Watching Sienna completely immersed is mesmerising. Of course, that’s not all, I can’t help but appreciate her curves and how her arse hugs her yoga pants like a second skin.Fuck.

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