Page 26 of Seven Lost Summers
Theo rolls his eyes, but I catch that flicker of amusement, the reluctant twitch of his lips he tries to bury. “Yeah, and hand jobs work too. Doesn’t mean they’re satisfying.”
“Got me a few dirty favors.” I add, my smirk widening, knowing full well that I’ve got him. Every dirty detail, I’ve told him all of them. Every meaningless fuck. He knows.
He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah when girls suck your dick just to shut you the fuck up it doesn’t count.”
I laugh out loud. Can’t help myself.
That’s the thing about Theo; he barely says shit, but when he does, the words are fucking gold. Dry, filthy, and sharp enough to cut through whatever heaviness is hanging in the air.
I clap a hand on his shoulder. “You’re such a dick, you know that?”
He grins up at me, one of those rare smiles. The kind only Mom or Scarlet usually pull from him.
“Come on,” I say, stepping away, heading for the table where Bianca and Quinn are still deep in conversation.
Theo follows and I fall in beside him, his shoulders still curled inward like he’s trying to disappear into himself.
I keep my eyes on Bianca, trying to figure out what the fuck about her is throwing me off.
Quinn spots us first. Her sharp, knowing gaze snaps to mine, eyes narrowing like she’s already bracing for impact. She’s waiting for my smirk, the cocky line, the lazy drawl I always throw her way, designed to get under her skin long enough to test whether I’ll push my luck with her.
But today, she’s not the one I’m focused on.
Today, it’s Bianca.
Right as we reach the table, Theo’s steps drag, only enough to hover on the edge of hesitation. He stops short of awkward, but I catch the shift. The way his body stiffens. The way his fingers clamp the hem of his hoodie like that fabric’s the last anchor holding him steady.
Quinn’s gaze shifts to him and something in her expression softens.
“Hey, Theo,” she says, her voice smooth and casual, like she didn’t catch him glitch.
I watch him fidget and the truth sinks in—he’s way out of his comfort zone. This isn’t small talk for him. This is a fucking war. Every second he stands here, he’s battling himself. Wrestling with the instinct to turn around and walk the fuck away before anyone sees too much.
Suddenly Bianca looks up.
First at him.
After that, at me… and fuck.
Her dark brown eyes meet mine and the hit lands as hard as yesterday in that room. That quiet, unreadable expression tells me she already sees through every part of me and couldn’t give a fuck whether or not I approve.
I don’t even realize I’ve stopped breathing until Quinn speaks.
“Bianca, this is Theo.”
Theo hesitates. Only a beat.
After that, he does something I’ve never seen him do. He drags his hand out of his pocket and holds it out to her.
“Hey, Bianca,” he says. His voice is steady, but I can hear the strain. That tight edge underneath. The way speaking costs him something simply to stand there. “Great guitar playing yesterday.”
She smiles. Not some forced, polite bullshit. Not the kind you toss out to be nice. The smile is real. Warm.
“Do you play?” Bianca asks, voice effortless. Her eyes stay on Theo, waiting for him to answer.
But he doesn’t get the chance.
“Theo taught himself bass,” Quinn says, cutting in before he can open his mouth.
