Page 96 of Three Pucking Wedding Dates

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice rough and tender at the same time, like the scrape of sandpaper against velvet.

“Hey,” I respond, my voice barely audible. My heart skips a beat, relieved by his presence yet anxious about what comes next.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, kneeling by my bedside. He reaches for my hand, his touch warm and grounding.

“Too many thoughts,” I admit, my eyes locked on our entwined fingers.

“Same here,” he confesses, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. It’s in this simple gesture that I find solace, knowing I’m not alone in my restlessness.

“Can you stay for a while?” I ask, biting my lip, hesitant but hopeful.

“Of course,” he replies without hesitation, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He stands up, shedding his jacket before slipping under the covers beside me.

The mattress dips beneath his weight, and I shift toward him, cautiously resting my head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes my frayed nerves, and I relax into the warmth of his body.

“Is this okay?” Theo murmurs, his breath tickling my forehead.

“More than okay,” I answer, snuggling closer to him. His strong arm wraps around me, pulling me tighter against him, as if shielding me from the turmoil outside these four walls.

The warmth of Theo’s body against mine is like a balm to my soul, and I can’t help but sink deeper into his embrace. Our breaths mingle in the darkness, creating an intimate cocoon that shelters us from the world outside.

52

THEO

The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, and I squint against the bright assault on my eyes. The unfamiliarity of the room slowly registers in my groggy mind—Oakley’s room at her father’s. Sitting up, I rub the sleep from my eyes and glance around in search of Oakley, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Oakley?” I call out tentatively, but there’s no response. A sudden surge of anxiety courses through me as I worry about her well-being. She’s been through so much lately, and I can’t help but feel protective of her.

Just as I’m about to get up and start searching for her, the sound of raised voices and heated arguments from downstairs reaches my ears. My heart races with concern, and I know I need to find out what’s going on.

I throw off the covers and spring out of bed, quickly pulling on my jeans and a shirt. As I race toward the door, I try to make out the voices below. I recognize Oakley’s distinct tone—spicy and sassy, just like her personality—but the others are harder to identify.

“Stay out of it, Oakley!” a voice screeches, and my blood boils at the blatant disrespect.

“Excuse me? This is my family, too!” Oakley retorts, her voice passionate and unwavering. I admire her courage, even though every instinct in me screams to protect her from whatever storm she’s facing.

The moment my foot hits the bottom step, I take in the scene before me—Oakley standing tall and defiant, her long wavy brown hair framing the fire in her green eyes. Her wicked stepmother, Tina, looms nearby with a predatory smile on her thin lips, while Georgia, her stepsister, glares at Oakley with thinly veiled contempt.

“Enough!” I interject, stepping forward to mediate the situation. “There’s no need for this to escalate. Let’s all calm down and talk things through.” My gaze flickers between the faces of the three women, searching for any sign of reason. I don’t even know what the fight is about, but I don’t really need to.

Tina smirks at me, unimpressed, while Georgia looks momentarily taken aback by my presence. But it’s Oakley who captures my attention as she calmly meets my gaze, an unwavering determination shining in her eyes. In that instant, I recognize that she doesn’t need me to swoop in and save her; she’s more than capable of handling this family feud on her own.

“Thank you, Theo,” she says, her voice steady and strong. “But I’ve got this.”

Oakley turns back to Georgia. “Maybe if you spent half as much time working on your character as you do your appearance, people might actually want to be around you,” she snaps, her voice dripping with disdain.

Georgia stands there, stunned and momentarily speechless. Her eyes widen as she processes Oakley’s words, anger quickly flaring in their icy depths. She clenches her fists, clearly intent on retaliating, but I step in front of her, blocking her path.

“Move out of my way, Theo!” Georgia hisses, her rage palpable. But even as she glares at me, I can see the insecurity and hurt hidden beneath her fury.

“Enough, Georgia,” I say firmly, my expression resolute. “You’re not going to make this any better by lashing out.” Inside, I’m wrestling with my own emotions—the desire to protect Oakley and the knowledge that she doesn’t need me to save her. Even so, I refuse to let this turn into an all-out brawl.

“Fine,” Georgia snarls, glaring daggers at Oakley before storming off in the opposite direction. I watch her go, feeling a mix of relief and concern as the tension in the room begins to dissipate.

As Georgia storms off, Oakley straightens her shoulders and faces me, her eyes blazing with a fierce mix of anger and determination. Even after all the chaos, she looks stunning—long, wavy brown hair framing her high cheekbones and bright green eyes that seem to see right through me.

“Come on, Theo,” she says, voice steady despite the emotions churning beneath the surface. “Let’s get out of here.”

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