Page 73 of Meet Me at the Metro

“It’s not a big deal, Nora.”

I don’t buy the lie.

“I wanted to help you get your schedule sorted. I didn’t want you to be stressed about it and have your tuition all fucked up.”

“Thank you, Theo. It seriously means so much to me.” I draw my palms up to cup his face, hoping he can see the sincerity in my eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Not in thesame way you are.”

He pulls me over top of him, and I can’t help but notice how good our bodies feel when they’re connected like this—sharing their warmth. He kisses me, deep and needy, as if it’s the last time he’ll ever get to. Then, he draws his mouth away from mine and hushes into my ear, “Everything feels quiet when you’re here.”

“You think so? I think my rambling contradicts that statement.”

“You make my mind quiet.”

He didn’t need to say anymore because I get it.He makes my mind quiet, too.

I appreciate the way he holds me after that confession, stroking my hair until my eyelids and body start to grow heavy. Even as much as I want to explore every inch of this man beneath his clothes, I’m completely fine with exploring this side of him too—the subtle, sweet side that I have no trouble believing he’s saved just for me.

As my eyes begin to flutter closed, the warmth of his body still pressed against me, I settle on a single thought…

I could get used to this type of quiet.

21

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“Theo!” I shout, shaking his shoulders roughly to wake him up. “Theo! Wake up!”

My heart is beating so hard as I watch his body writhe with distress beneath the sheets. A cold sweat breaks out against his forehead, and his brows are furrowed, contorting his face into a terrified expression.

He’s having a nightmare.

“Theo!”

“Let me go,” he cries hoarsely, shoving my hands away. His eyelids fly open, but he continues to fight me away.“Get off! Let me go! I can’t leave him.”

“Theo, please! You’re dreaming. Wake up!”

“Let me go! I can’t leave him! Let me fucking go!”

“Come on, Teddy,” I whimper, afraid this might never end. “Please, wake up!”

I shake him hard one last time, putting all of my strength into it to snap him out of his lucid state. He finally wakes up, gasping for air—his chest rising and falling violently. His eyes widen as they adjust to the darkness of his bedroom and begin to recognize the walls around him.

“It’s okay,” I tell him softly, placing my hands against his face and gently encouraging him to look at me. “You were just dreaming. It’s over now.”

Slowly—gradually—he relaxes beneath me. I think he’s calming his mind from its state of panic until his eyes settle on mine, and his bodygoes taut. The muscles in his jaw tighten as a look of shame evolves on his face.

He pushes me off him and bolts out of the bed.

“Theo, wait!”

He doesn’t. He storms into the bathroom and slams the door, leaving me to sit alone in the silence left in his wake.

I crawl to the edge of the bed and just wait for a couple of moments, listening closely to the sounds beyond the barrier now between us. There’s a draw of a shower curtain before the loud rush of the faucet. I contemplate whether I should give him space or interrupt the possible assumptions he’s making—like assuming that what I just saw scared me or that I couldn’t handle it.

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