Page 67 of Muted

I run my hand over my throat slowly, feeling the way the tendons strain under my palm. Massaging gently, I wince at the never-ending ache I feel there. It’s been worse, sometimes pushing me toward migraines, but right now is localized.

Me: Because speaking up only makes things hurt worse.

Theo: What happened?

Me: When you figure out what it takes to get me to speak, I’ll tell you.

Theo: I want to earn it from you. When I find you at work, I don’t want you to say anything yet. Not until you have to.

Me: Even though we’re just friends?

Theo: We’re not friends, Susu.

Me: Noted. Goodnight, Theo.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I’m on edge.Reallyfucking on edge.

My eyes keep lifting from the numbers swimming before me to look around the empty bar, curious if Theo is here yet.

His texts run through my head again and I second guess myself.

People flirt all the time through text, right? Talk a big talk, but the follow through is normally non-existent, or if it does happen, it’s not ever close to what they say will happen.

Groaning out loud to myself, I notice Chester freezes just as he’s walking out of his office. He’s staring at me with his mouth hanging open, shocked at the sound that escaped me.

“You doing good over there, Susu?” he asks, dragging out ‘you’.

I just want to fucking die right now. Melt into a puddle under this godforsaken table so I can disappear. What the hell is wrong with me?

Ever since Theo texted me, I’ve been on the cusp of freaking out and giggling like a psycho. Horny. Desperate. Needy.

I can’t even answer him. Ducking my head down, I write the numbers from the receipts furiously into the ledger. His footsteps fade away, making me feel only slightly guilty for the dismissal. When he picked me up today, he apologizedagain, and this time, I handed him my phone with a message ready to tell him it was fine. I even apologized myself for overreacting. I told him I appreciated his concern and care that he has for my well-being. Which is completely true.

I was a bitch, reacting the way I did yesterday. Were they high-handed? Absolutely. But itdidcome from a good place, and I can recognize that.

Groaning again, I drop my pencil on the book and lean back against my chair. Rubbing both hands across my face, I drop them into my lap and look up at the ceiling. I don’t even know if he’s coming in today. It’s a shutdown day, so most of the employees don’t come in. Cliff isn’t here again, which I couldn’t be happier about. It’s only me and Chester here for the day.

Typing out a quick message on my phone, I make my way to the office and hand it to Chester, who is sitting behind his desk, typing out an email. He immediately pauses to read.

‘I need to take a break for a few minutes. I’m going to go out back for some fresh air.’

He eyes me carefully, then asks, “You sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, I force a smile. Iamokay; I’m just about to crawl out of my skin. I need to get rid of some of this energy.

I’m sure I’m not convincing him, but he sighs and hands my phone back. “Take all the time you need. I’m going to be a while anyway.”

Pressing my hand against my chest, I thank him the best way I can, and then walk back out into the empty bar. Pulling the door partially shut behind me, I freeze. The barisn’tempty anymore.

My eyes are locked with his where he’s standing next to the table where I’ve been working for the past few hours. When I take a step toward the back door, I see his nostrils flare slightly, zeroed in on every movement I make. Sucking in a breath, I soak in the fact that Theodore Gatlin isnotlooking at me the same way he did the last time he saw me.

Another step toward the back door and he shifts his body to follow me. One more step, he mirrors it, closing the distance between us. He wasveryserious in his texts and I’m so fucking here for it.

Spinning on my heel, I turn my back on him, shivering when I hear his low growl and footsteps as they follow me through the darkened hallway toward the back door.

My pulse is racing a million miles when I make it to the door, reaching out for the handle. The cool metal barely registers under my palm when I feel Theo’s hand grip the back of my neck. His fingers reach around to the front, and he squeezes tightly, pulling me away from the entrance. My fingers slip off the handle just before I’m spun around and my back hits the wall.

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