Page 31 of Wilder at Heart
‘Hey.’ Theo comes behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders, his fingers and thumbs working my tired muscles with just enough pressure to feel outrageously good. I let my shoulders drop and shudder out a sigh.
‘I know this is shit, but let’s just get you packed up with the basics, okay? Then I’ll make you a cuppa at mine and you can crawl off to bed. You’ll be fine, all right? Now, where do you keep your cases?’
He’s sweet. He doesn’t need to do this. I’m only a fake girlfriend and I’m already causing him grief, and now he has to adopt two annoying little orphans for the next few days. I’m sure none of this was part of his plan, but if he can be gracious and upbeat about it, so can I.
I suppose, anyway.
Theo livesin an exceedingly nice penthouse flat in a modern block off High Street Kensington. We take the lift up from the underground carpark and exit it straight into his flat. It’s even nicer in the flesh than it was inCharmed in Chelsea.
‘So you don’t, in fact, live in Chelsea.’
He grins. ‘Nope. They kept that quiet. Only showed interior shots of the flat.’
I arch my eyebrows. ‘That they did. I recognise that sofa.’
He grimaces as I squat to let Olive down. He’s being really nice to us. I’m guessing the last thing he needs in this gorgeous, glossy bachelor pad is a girl and a dog, so I should throw him a bone.
‘Your flat is stunning,’ I tell him.
‘Thanks. It’s my sanctuary. You probably think I’m a party boy, but I’m happy as a pig in shit when I’m here with a takeaway and a pair of pyjama bottoms.’
Oh, crap.For once, I don’t think he’s being provocative, but my brain has unhelpfully served me up a visual of Theo lounging on the Sofa of Sin in a pair of pyjama bottoms and nothing else. I really, really hope he doesn’t indulge in gratuitous nudity of even the most partial kind while I’m here. Please let him cover the hell up.
I’ve seen slivers of chest. And chest hair. I gripped his bicep like a drowning woman when he kissed me, and I mushed my boobs against his chest. I saw the epic bum-dimple shot onCharmed in Chelsea.And all of my extensive empiricalanalysis tells me that seeing Theo’s body in the flesh would be spectacularly unhelpful.
Because he’s objectively gorgeous, and I’m objectively lonely, sad and horny. And reminders of my state through endeavours like groping his muscles and having his tongue tangle with mine are just. Plain. Unhelpful.
Did I remember to pack my vibrator?
I’m staring at him in a daze, and he must mistake my lust-fog for tiredness, because he holds up my bag.
‘You must be knackered. Let’s put this in your room and you can get out of that dress.’
I stare at him wide-eyed.
‘Don’t look at me like that, you dirty girl. Put some PJs on. Or a robe. Whatever. I’m definitely getting comfy, so don’t be shy.’
I really need to pull myself together. It’s the triple whammy of having seen Jonathan, kissed Theo and then found myself in his space. It’s pretty intense. And I know I should loosen up. It was just a kiss. Just afor-showkiss, to be more specific.
I trot obediently after him, leaving Olive to delightedly sniff every inch of the spectacular living area. Dogs are so lucky. I’d quite like to sniff every inch of Theo’s bedroom…
Stop it.
We pass an open door and I glance in, only to realise that the large white room is familiar. I’ve seen a giggling and half-dressed trio tumbling in there on camera before the door shut, and Theo strolling across that space butt-naked.
Also on camera.
Jesus. Who knew just being in his flat would be so triggering?
He opens the door next to his (like,rightnext to his. Oh, shit. I wonder how far vibrator noises and… vibrations carry). I follow him into the room. It’s immaculate. White walls. Statement chandelier. White bed that I just want to tumble into. Huge windows that I bet have a view that stretches for miles.It’s perfect. And the wooden floor is dry, and the bedding is dry, which, right now, is enough for me.
Theo puts my bag on the bed. ‘This is you.’
‘Thanks. It’s great.’ I stand back awkwardly to let him pass, and he gestures to a door on the way out.
‘Ensuite’s in there. And there’s a big bathtub in the bathroom down the hall. Honestly, if you just want to crash, that’s totally fine. But—are you hungry? You look like you might be.’
Of course. That’s why I’m behaving like a zombie. It’s not lust, it’s low blood sugar. I barely ate at the party.
