by Tara Wyatt
She laughed despite the tightness still lingering in her throat. “Wow, your fee is cheaper than I would’ve expected,” she said, gesturing at his gorgeous apartment.
He winked at her. “I work on a sliding scale.”
Something inside her chest felt like it was melting, all hot and slippery over her insides, and she didn’t know what to do with that. So she pushed it away, wiped at her eyes and sighed.
“I’m going to die alone.” Her voice came out a little croaky.
Theo blew out a breath and then pulled her into his chest. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and she settled her head on his broad chest, breathing in his reassuring scent, savoring the gentle thump of his heart against her cheek. “What brought this on?”
She shrugged, using the movement as an excuse to wriggle into him a little bit more. God, it felt so good to just let him hold her like that. As though with his warm, solid body sheltering her from the world, everything would be okay. Which was a very dangerous way to think, because while he was lots of things, Theo wasn’t boyfriend material—something she thought she’d accepted a long time ago. “I’m twenty-nine, no closer to living my dream than I was five years ago, single AF with zero prospects, and...”
“Shhh,” he whispered, pulling her tighter against him. “You’re not going to die alone,” he said, weaving his fingers into her hair. “Dating is hard, but I know there’s a guy out there for you.”
She made an indelicate snorting sound.
He sat up a little, holding her away from him so he could meet her eyes. “Lauren, listen to me. You are beautiful, and smart, and kind, and so unbelievably talented. You’re incredible. You know that, right?” He cupped her face, trailing his thumb over her cheekbone. “You’re funny and driven and I know it’s all going to come together for you. And I promise you, you’re absolutely not going to die alone, because you’ve got me and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Theo,” she whispered, letting herself lean into his touch.
“I mean it,” he said, dropping his own voice to a whisper. “You’re amazing.”
She licked her lips and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Heat pulsed in her stomach, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. Theo’s eyes had darkened, the lids heavy as he still stared at her mouth. He shifted a bit closer. Holy shit, he was thinking of kissing her, wasn’t he?
He tilted his head and moved in closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Her entire body pulsed and tingled with how badly she wanted him to kiss her. With how badly she wanted to explore the underlying but ever-present chemistry between them. She still had just enough alcohol in her system to push away the fear that they’d wreck their friendship and he’d break her heart, all in one fell swoop.
His hand slid into her hair, his breath warm on her lips, and her eyes fluttered closed. A loud pounding on Theo’s door made them both jump and he snatched his hand back from her face as though he’d been caught doing something very, very wrong. He turned to face the door, shielding her with his body. Another round of insistent pounding erupted and he pushed up off of the couch.
“Theo, come on man. I know you’re home. I need help.”
“Fucking Bastian,” he grumbled, striding toward the door. He undid the locks and flung it open. “What?” He practically spat the word out, and Lauren pressed her fingertips to her still tingling—and sadly unkissed—lips.
“I need some money.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“No, listen listen,” said Sebastian, stepping inside and kicking the door closed. “Oh hey, Lauren. Happy birthday, yeah? Anyway, I need a thousand bucks.” Sebastian’s eyes were bright and he seemed particularly amped up.
“Do you have a black eye?” Theo asked, tilting his head and peering at Sebastian.
Sebastian smiled like he’d just won the lottery. “Yeah. Dude. I found it. I found that secret underground fighting ring I’ve been looking for. I’m a little light right now, and the buy in is a thousand bucks. I can go fight right now!”
“I take it the first one was free?”
“Free and so, so good.”
“You like getting punched in the face?” Lauren asked, scrunching her face up.
Sometimes she was totally convinced that she was never, ever going to understand men.
Sebastian didn’t answer her, too busy pacing back and forth with his frantic energy. Theo crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “No. No fucking way I’m giving you a thousand dollars so you can go get beat up.”
“What makes you think I’ll lose?”
Theo lifted his hand and flicked Sebastian’s emerging black eye.
“Aaaaahhhh, shit man!” Sebastian yelled, bending over with his face in his hands. He stood, ripping his hands away from his face. “That fucking hurt!”
A muscle in Theo’s jaw jumped as he stared his older brother down. “Go home. Sober up. And for fuck’s sake, find a better way to deal with whatever it is that’s going on. Like, I don’t know, therapy.”
“So you’re not giving me the money for Fight Club.”
Theo let out a world-weary sigh. “No, Bastian. I’m not giving you money for Fight Club.”
“Goddammit,” he muttered. “Fine. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see you later.” He turned and left as abruptly as he’d shown up.
“What on earth was that about?” asked Lauren, rubbing her hands over her face as exhaustion pulled at her.
“That was about Sebastian being a motherfucking mess. Look up self-destructive in the dictionary, and boom.”
“There’s his picture?”
“There’s his mugshot.”
“But why?”
Theo shrugged, a sad expression on his face. “I wish I knew. He’s not exactly the caring and sharing type.”
Lauren nodded and licked her lips, entirely unsure what to say next. Which was a really weird feeling, because she always knew what to say to Theo. Always.
He glanced at her and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting around the apartment. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna crash.”
Oh. So he was just going to pretend he hadn’t been half a second away from kissing her.
“Yeah, that’s cool. Coolcoolcool.”
He hesitated. “You’re okay?”
She picked up the banana and started peeling it. “I’m good. I’m going to hang out here for a while.”
“Sure, yeah. Mi casa and all that,” he said. He moved toward her, causing her heart to pick up speed again. He reached out his arms like he was going to hug her and then awkwardly patted her on the head. “Uh, good night.”
“Night, Theo.”
He disappeared into his bedroom and she returned her attention to the TV, their earlier conversation replaying over and over in her brain.
They were friends first. That’s how all the best relationships start.
And it was right then—watching Friends alone in the dark on the night of her twenty-ninth birthday—that Lauren realized that she wasn’t just attracted to Theo. No, she had feelings for him.
“This is bad,” she whispered, snuggling deeper into his sweatshirt. The faintest whiff of Theo hit her and her stomach exploded with butterflies that didn’t do much to help her barely contained nausea. “This is so, so bad.”
5
Theo was having the day from hell. And not just because it was a Monday, or because he’d managed to spill almost an entire latte on his brand new Hugo Boss shirt, or because one of the senior partners had reamed him out for a settlement he’d negotiated on behalf of a client—apparently Theo hadn’t been greedy enough. Which was the last thing he needed if he was really being considered for a junior partnership at Kingston, Lennox and Finley. It was one of the most prestigious family law firms in Manhattan, and getting this promotion was only step one of many on his ten-year plan.
He could be a shark when he needed to be, but it wasn’t the way he liked to operate on a regular basis. He’d gone into family law to help pe
ople and protect kids, not be a ruthless and greedy asshole. If he could prevent even one kid from enduring the shit he’d been put through, then he was doing something right. And the higher up he got, the more positive change he could affect.
But back to the day from hell. Lots of things had gone wrong, but the day was made ten times worse by the fact that he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. All he could think about was how he’d almost kissed Lauren on Friday night. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d risked ruining the best relationship of his life. He had to find a way to get his attraction to her under control.
Because no matter how he felt about her, he couldn’t be the guy for her. He refused to be the one to break her heart, and he knew he would, too. He’d dated throughout his twenties and had nothing to show for it but a trail of broken hearts. He’d hurt the women he’d been in relationships with because he’d always bailed as soon as things got the tiniest bit real. The idea of getting close to someone—the idea of true intimacy—scared the everloving fuck out of him because he’d seen just how deeply people could hurt you when you let them get close. He’d seen it with his parents, and he saw it in his office on a daily basis.
He refused to add Lauren’s name to that list of broken hearts.
“Theo, the courier just dropped this off for you,” said his paralegal, Carmen, from the doorway to his office.
“The one you like?” he teased her, moving out from behind his desk and accepting the box from her. It was surprisingly heavy. Carmen was in her early forties and recently divorced. Her husband had cheated on her and left her for a younger woman after fifteen years of marriage, making her a single mom to twin ten-year-old boys. Theo had handled her split, making sure she and the boys were well taken care of. She’d just started dating again, and while he was happy for her, he had a hard time understanding how people could just put themselves out there again after experiencing the worst possible fallout. It was like going skydiving again after jumping out and having your parachute malfunction. Miraculously, she’d survived and she was somehow ready and willing to jump out of a plane again.
Insanity. Pure insanity.
Not that he’d ever tell Carmen that. She was a sweetheart, but also a little scary when she wanted to be.
“Yes, the one with the very cute buns,” she said, smiling and fluffing her black curls.
He laughed and put the box down on his desk, slicing the packing tape open with a letter opener. It was shaped like an imperial moustache; Lauren had given it to him years ago.
Lauren. The almost kiss. God, he’d replayed the moment so many times, allowing himself the private luxury of imagining what it would’ve been like to actually kiss her. It would’ve started off gentle, sweet and slow as he tasted her for the first time, her soft lips moving against his. A gasp as his tongue slid against hers and then a deepening of the kiss because he needed more of her sweetness. Fingers in her hair, a needy urgency spreading between them as the kiss became hotter, deeper, all of the pent-up lust of the past decade spilling out between them. Her hands at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, his lips on her neck and—
“Theo? Hello? Where’d you go, honey?” Carmen snapped her manicured fingers in front of his face. He blinked rapidly, the letter opener still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Sorry,” he said, swallowing thickly and setting the letter opener down before he did some serious damage with it. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Mmmhmm,” said Carmen, giving him a knowing smile. “How was Lauren’s birthday on Friday?”
He opened the box, pulling out a ridiculously massive binder. “It was nice. I think she had a good time.”
“And what about you? Did you have a good time?” Her big brown eyes zeroed in on him, her tone teasing.
He shrugged. “Sure.” And it was true, he had. Right up until he’d almost kissed his best friend and messed everything up.
Carmen crossed her arms, staring him down and shaking her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“And why’s that?” he asked distractedly, thumbing through the binder. Jesus Christ, it was hundreds of pages of allegations against his client. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
“Because you’re really dumb sometimes.”
He glanced up at Carmen. “What?”
She patted him on the shoulder and smiled sweetly. “You’ll figure it out. Eventually.”
Shaking his head as Carmen went back to her desk out front, he sank down into his chair. The binder contained exactly 662 pages calling his client, Miranda Simmons, a negligent mother and all-around horrible person. And, Theo could see from the paperwork included with it, opposing counsel had already delivered a copy to the custody evaluator in the case as well.
This split was a particularly nasty one. Miranda Simmons was a successful fashion designer whose husband had left her for another woman. Not only did he want sole custody of their six-year-old daughter, he also wanted insane amounts of both child support and alimony from Miranda.
His phone started ringing, and sure enough, Miranda’s name flashed across the screen.
“Miranda, hi,” he said, putting the call on speaker phone as he continued flipping through the binder.
“I just heard from the custody evaluator who told me I needed to talk to you ASAP. What’s going on?”
He grimaced. “Massimo and his lawyer are playing in the mud. I just got a 600-page binder full of allegations about you.”
“What?!? Oh, that cretinous, dickless, shit eating fuckwit.”
He smirked. “Nicely put.”
“I’d say I can’t believe this, but it’s Massimo, so...” Not to mention that Massimo’s lawyer was a total scumbag. “Well, I want to retaliate. Oh, boy, the things I could tell you about him. Forget 600 pages, we can put together 1000 pages of stuff about that sewer rat. He thinks he can get away with calling me a bad mother, well, he’s an even worse father!”
Right then, Theo’s heart broke a little for six-year-old Mila, caught in the middle. It was so unfair to her. So unfair what all of these failed marriages did to kids. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Miranda, do you want revenge, or do you want custody? Because I can only get you one of those things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think our best course of action is to take the high road. Let’s focus on the fact that Mila’s been in your care her entire life. Between traveling for work and the separation, Massimo’s hardly been around.”
There was a lengthy pause. “But I can’t just let him get away with saying whatever the hell it is he’s saying.” He was relieved to hear that some of the fire had gone out of her voice. Miranda hadn’t gotten where she was in her career by letting people walk all over her, but he knew that how they handled this could make or break the case.
“Do you trust me?” It was a question he asked clients often, because if they didn’t trust him to do his job, it made doing his job infinitely harder.
“Of course I do,” she answered, sounding put out. “I wouldn’t have hired you and paid your ludicrously expensive retainer if I didn’t.” At the mention of his retainer, his mind went back to Friday night again, when he’d asked Lauren for a dollar. His chest hurt as he remembered how crushed she’d looked when she’d told him her fear of ending up alone. And he’d meant what he’d said—she’d always have him.
Which was why it was for the best that they hadn’t kissed. Because if they kissed, it would change things. They’d be headed into territory he didn’t know how to navigate without crashing.
“Then trust me now when I tell you that firing back is not the winning strategy. This,” he said, zipping his thumb along the edges of the binder’s hundreds of pages, “will backfire on him. Judges hate when parents badmouth each other, and this is more than badmouthing—we’d have a good argument for parental alienation of affection should we need to use it. Let’s stay focused on the actual issues instead of attacking him. Tit for tat won’t get us anywhere
, and it definitely won’t be good for Mila.”
She paused at the mention of her daughter, and he crossed his fingers, hoping that what he’d said had hit home.
“Okay. Okay. You’re right. I need to focus on doing what’s best for Mila.” She sighed. “So what do we do now?”
“We’ve already submitted everything to the custody evaluator. So now we wait and we don’t even acknowledge this binder of stupidity.”
They talked for a few more minutes until he was satisfied she wasn’t going to do anything impulsive that might ruin their case. As it stood now, Miranda had a very good shot at sole physical and legal custody and he wanted to keep it that way. Living full time with her mother was definitely what would be best for Mila, so that was the outcome Theo was angling for.
“Knock knock,” came a familiar voice from his doorway. He tore his eyes away from the binder in front of him, his heart thunking heavily in his chest at the sight of Lauren.
They hadn’t talked about the almost kiss at all. He hadn’t brought it up and neither had she, and he planned to leave it that way. It was for the best to just pretend it hadn’t happened.
“Hey,” he said, flashing her a smile. “What’s up?”
She lifted her hands, showing off a bag emblazoned with the King Tacos logo. “Hungry? I was in the area and thought you could use a break.”
Just then, his stomach let out a loud rumble and they both laughed. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Come on in.” She stepped further into his office and set the takeout bag down on the small table in his office that he pretty much only used for having lunch with Lauren when she stopped by. He counted his lucky stars that there was a music store that she loved just down the street from his firm.
She sat down and opened the bag, filling the air with the scents of spiced beef, melted cheese, and cilantro. He sat down opposite her, inhaling appreciatively before digging in, and they ate in silence for several moments.
