Page 27 of Stuck With the Billionaire Grump

“It’s fine,” I grumble. Unfortunately, I sound more like a petulant child than an unbothered adult.

“Fine or not, my point is that it wasn’t personal.”

I drop my head back against the door.Please, Mabel. Save me…

“Whatever, Theo. It was twelve years ago. It’s not a big deal.”

Never mind that, at the time, it really was a big deal to me. The hugest deal, actually. Which is, admittedly, really annoying and impossible to understand even after all this time.

It’s not as if IlikedTheo. I didn’t have feelings for him, not in any way that would make what happened so much worse than it should have been.

“Okay, then,” he says, punctuating the words with a loud sigh. “No big deal. Fine.”

“Fine.”

At that exact moment, the doorknob rattles right over my head. Without warning, the door is yanked open. I tumble backwards onto the kitchen tiles at the same time that Theo shoots to his feet.

For a handful of seconds, everything seems frozen. I’m partially sprawled on the floor. Theo is staring down at me, towering even from his position on the lower step, his mouth slightly agape.

Mabel’s eyes are on him, rather than me. Her lips curve into a frown so fleetingly that I’m not sure I’m seeing correctly, but then her expression grows neutral once more when she glances down at me.

“You okay?” she asks.

“M’fine,” I mumble.

I sit upright and reach for the bag of ice, but I’m blocked by an outstretched hand. Theo’s hand. I stare down at his palm for a long moment before realizing that he’s offering to help me up. For a heartbeat, I consider ignoring the gesture—done purely out of politeness because we currently have an audience—but I’m not confident I can rise to my feet gracefully without assistance in this current position.

Avoiding Theo’s gaze, I slip my hand into his and allow him to haul me up into a standing position. He lifts with unexpected ease, showing off a strength I didn’t realize he had. Not that he’s not muscular. He is. Just not in an obvious way. There’s a leanness to him that suggests he looks after his physique.

Not that I really noticed or whatever.

“Mabel, this is Theo Danvers,” I force myself to say, desperate to pretend that everything is perfectly normal and okay. “Theo, this is Mabel Lee.”

“Nice to—”

Mabel doesn’t allow Theo to finish delivering his pleasantries. She simply gives him one of her sunny smiles and then nods to the bag of charcoal.

“You might want to hurry with that,” she tells him.

He glances at me and, somehow, I know exactly what he wants to say.Clearly, you two girls are good friends, because neither one of you seems capable of letting me finish a sentence.

For some reason, that makes me want to smile. And yet, the thought of smiling at Theo—of smiling at whatever wordless communication just occurred between us—makes me feel weird and vaguely itchy.

“Right,” he mutters. He grabs the charcoal and heads through the kitchen toward the sliding glass doors.

Then, even though there are about a hundred people crawling around Uncle Joe and Aunt Carol’s house, Mabel and I are suddenly alone in the kitchen.

I already know what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth, but that doesn’t stop me from cringing when she lets out a short laugh and goes, “Who wasthat?”

Snatching the ice from the floor, I stalk toward the door. “I already told you. Theo Danvers. He’s Elijah’s friend. From college, I’ve been told.”

“And why on earth were you hanging out with him in the basement?”

“I wasn’thanging outwith him. We got stuck becausehelet the door fall shut.”

“Ah.”

“Yes,ah.”

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