Page 39 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“You weren’t,” he says, his tone gentler now, almost apologetic. “But you’d just gone through a traumatic time. You were vulnerable. I was a lot older. It would’ve been wrong on so many levels. I didn’t want to—” His brow furrows. “I liked you too much to risk ruining things. Ruining you.”
“Oh, so you were protecting my virtue like some knight in shining armor?” The bitterness that slips out is more severe than I’d intended.
“Hardly, considering how terribly I wanted—” He cuts himself off with a muttered curse.
Why, oh why, do I want him to finish that sentence?
“Asher asked me to look out for you while he was off doing thatContinentalChroniclesinternship. Help you figure out your next steps school- and career-wise.” He drags a hand overhis jaw. “I was your mentor. I’d earned the privilege of your friendship. You trusted me.”
“So you made a choice for me?”
“I made a choice forme!” He turns his gaze to the bubbling water below, but not before I catch the flash of anguish across his features.
When he speaks again, his voice is lethally sharp and full of eerie detachment. “My father was thirteen years older than my mother. Her fucking boss. She was only twenty-one when they got married. Yeah, she was technically an adult, but he’d preyed on her from the start. Abused his power. Her vulnerability. And, eventually, her body and mind.”
I find myself holding my breath as he continues.
“He stole her shine. Extinguished her light. It took a long time and a lot of therapy for her to heal from what he did. I never want to be that guy. I never want to hurt someone I care about.”
“Theo…” I step closer, my right hand finding its way to his left. “You’re nothing like him. I’ve never felt unsafe with you. When I was at my lowest, you were there. And you never asked for anything in return.”
“I didn’t want anything,” he says, softening. “But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t…want.”
Oh.Oh.
“You could’ve said something,” I tell him. “Asked me to wait?”
“That would’ve still tied you to me. Just as tightly—if not tighter. It wouldn’t have been fair.”
“What you did wasn’t fair either.” My voice cracks. “The way you shut me down was cruel.”
Theo’s shoulders stiffen. “If I hadn’t pushed you away, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my distance. I hear howcowardly that sounds now. It was selfish of me. A dick move that protected my peace by stealing your agency.” He exhales roughly, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been seeing a new therapist this year. One who doesn’t let me skate by on logic. She calls me out on my shit—makes me confront actual feelings. I’m getting better at…”
“At…?” I press when he trails off.
“Talking.” There’s a rawness in his eyes. Vulnerable and unguarded, it’s a departure from the confident, put-together man intent on keeping the world at arm’s length. “Actually saying what I mean. Owning up to what I want—even if I don’t always think I deserve it.”
“And what is it you want, Theo?”
His fingers twitch against the railing.
Do it, I beg silently.Touch me.
“I—” He cuts off, gaze snagging on a mark in the wood between his hands.
His breath catches. I choke on mine.
As if on cue, the twinkling lights on the bridge come alive, highlighting my transgression.
“So, yeah…” Embarrassment lights a bright flame across my skin. “I might’ve defiled the railing a bit.” I clear my throat, fiddling with my bangs like I could maybe use the long, wispy strands to cover up the heat on my face. “It was a long time ago. Please pretend you don’t see it, okay?”
Theo traces the initials. “Want me to change thatTinto anAfor you?”
“No.” The word comes much too quickly, so I fumble to elaborate. “The carving is too old.” Too deep—and not just inside the wood. “Changing it will make a mess of the railing.”
Weak,but he surprises me by nodding.
Without speaking, he holds out his still-wrapped s’more to me.
