S O P H I A H O N E Y

WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS?

Maybe I should reconsider this.

Seriously, was this even worth the money?

But-damn it-I need it.

I couldn't just go around asking Theo for things. I was his roommate, not some freeloader. And since Ryan and Dad had already paid for this apartment for me, the least I could do was handle my own expenses. I'm a big girl, capable of making my own decisions.

Only... this one feels like a terrible one.

I take a slow breath, my fingers twitching at my sides as I step into Theo's room for the first time.

And-holy crap.

I knew he was well-off, but this? This screams rich guy. His room is bigger than mine, the furniture sleek and expensive-looking. My bare feet sinking into the ridiculously soft rug. Of course he has a nice rug. Everything in here screams expensive-sleek furniture, dim lighting, a massive bed that looks way too comfortable.

This man is rich rich.

It's my first time actually being inside his room, and suddenly I feel like I've crossed some invisible line. Like I've stepped into his territory where I don't belong.

The scent of his body wash lingers in the air, and I try to ignore the fact that it smells... good. Clean, fresh, and way too distracting.

This is fine. It's just sleeping. No big deal. I've had sleepovers before.

...Except not like this.

Not in a boy's bed.

Not with a guy like Theo.

I swallow, shifting again, fingers tugging at the hem of my nightgown as I stand awkwardly near the door. Why did I wear this? Out of all the comfortable, loose pajamas I own, I had to pick this one. It feels too tight, hugging all the wrong places. My thighs. My hips. And my ass-God, I don't even want to think about that.

I'm just about to chicken out and maybe go change when-

The door slams shut behind me.

I jump, a small noise escaping before I can stop it. My body moves on instinct, stepping backward way too fast, and before I know it, my legs hit the edge of the bed.

Crap-

I flail, nearly toppling over onto the mattress but catch myself at the last second, gripping onto the bed frame to steady myself. My heart is racing, and my brain is still catching up with what just happened when I hear a low chuckle.

"Did you have to slam the door?" I argue. My eyes glaring at him but with the dim light around us, he hardly notices.

"Sorry. Didn't take you for the nervous type, Soph." He replies, with a smirk I know he has on his stupid face.

"I'm not," I lie through my teeth, but my voice is a little too high, and I hate that it gives me away. I force myself to straighten, way too aware of how the nightgown I'm wearing feels tighter than it did five minutes ago.

I grit my teeth. "I don't."

Liar.

He tilts his head, gaze flicking down at me. I suddenly feel too exposed, heat crawling up my neck.

I cross my arms, trying to ignore the way my stupid nightgown stretches a little too tightly across my breasts.

"Let's just get this over with," I mumble, avoiding his eyes.

Because I swear, if he keeps looking at me like that, I might just combust. He doesn't move from the door, but I feel his eyes dragging over me, taking in every tiny shift of my body. And even though I'm not looking directly at him, I just know that stupid smirk hasn't left his face.

I cross my arms over my chest, mostly to make myself feel less exposed. Stupid nightgown. I should've just worn a hoodie and sweatpants, but nooo, I had to pick this. The one that hugs my waist and barely covers my thighs.

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare?" I snap, my voice sharper than I intend.

Theo finally moves, stepping away from the door with an easy, unbothered shrug. "You're the one standing there like you just walked into a haunted house."

I glare, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "This is just... weird, okay?"

"Weird?" He tilts his head, feigning innocence. "We agreed, didn't we?"

I huff, looking anywhere but at him. "Yeah, but agreeing and actually doing it are two different things."

He chuckles again-low, amused, and way too relaxed about this. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn't put fresh sheets on the bed for nothing."

My eyes snap back to him. Fresh sheets?

He gestures lazily toward the bed, and I suddenly notice-the crisp, newly laid sheets, the extra pillows arranged way too neatly, like he actually prepared for this.

Like he expected me to go through with it.

My stomach twists. I don't even know why that detail gets to me, but it does.

I clear my throat, glancing at the bed again before forcing myself to move. One step, then another, until I'm standing awkwardly beside it. My palms are sweaty, and I have to resist the urge to wipe them against my nightgown.

Theo watches me, and I swear he's holding back another laugh.

"Relax, Soph."

Easier said than done. I hesitate at the edge of the bed, still trying to wrap my head around the situation when something clicks in my brain.

Wait a second.

"I thought you said you were cold?" I blurt out, narrowing my eyes.

Theo looks confused for a second, his brows furrowing before realization dawns. His expression shifts-something flickers across his face before he gives me a very unconvincing smile.

"Oh. Uh, yeah." He scratches the back of his neck, the motion making the muscles in his arm flex-

Stop noticing things, Sophia.

Theo blinks, caught off guard for a split second. Then his eyebrows lift slightly, like he just remembered his own lie.

"Uh-yeah. I was."

I raise an eyebrow. "And now you're not?"

He shrugs, looking far too casual. "Body heat. Works fast."

Bullshit.

I know it. He knows it.

But instead of pushing it further, my eyes betray me. They flicker-just for a second-down to his arms, taking in the way they flex slightly as he moves. Then lower, over his chest, his toned stomach-

Oh.

Okay, so maybe I never really noticed before, but-damn.

I never understood what other girls saw in Theo, why they swooned over him like he was some god walking among us. But now, staring at the sharp definition of his abs, the way his broad shoulders seem to fill every inch of space-

Well.

I kind of get it.

And I hate that I get it.

I snap my eyes away before he catches me looking, clearing my throat. "Whatever. Just-come over."

He grins, clearly enjoying my flustered state. "Yes, ma'am."

Smug asshole.

I shift toward the edge of the bed as much as possible, keeping a safe distance between us-not that I think he cares. He's already moving to slide in beside me when I blurt out, "Wait."

Theo pauses, one knee on the mattress, brows raised. "What now?"

I swallow, suddenly feeling ridiculous. "Can you, um-leave the bathroom door open? With the light on?"

His lips twitch like he's fighting back a smirk. "You scared of the dark, princess?

I roll my eyes. "No. It's just in case I need to use the bathroom."

Also in case I need to run in the middle of the night.

He watches me for a second, probably debating whether to tease me more, but he just nods and gets up. Flicking the light on, he leaves the door slightly ajar before turning back to me. "Happy now?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

I sit up, pulling the covers over me, trying to regulate my breathing. It's fine. I'm fine.

Except I remember why I'm freaking out in the first place.

And it's definitely not because I felt his lower half against me last night.

...Okay, no. That's exactly why I'm freaking out.

How the hell am I supposed to just ignore that?

Like, what am I even supposed to say? Oh, by the way, when you're sleeping, try not to get your dick to poke right up my ass. I know it's not your fault, but still-

My eyes widen at the thought.

And worse-worse-my brain betrays me, flashing back to how big it felt.

Oh my god.

I shake my head quickly, muttering under my breath, "Don't you dare go that far. Don't think about it. Just sleep."

I force my eyes shut, willing my brain to shut down. But even with the space between us, I'm hyper-aware of Theo lying next to me.

This was a terrible-terrible idea.

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe evenly. Relax. Sleep. Pretend he's not there.

Theo shifts beside me, and even though we're not touching, I feel him. His presence, his body heat-it's like a gravitational pull, making it impossible to ignore him.

I shouldn't have worn this stupid nightgown.

The fabric clings to my skin, and I know-I just know-it's highlighting every curve, every soft part of me that I'd rather not put on display. My stomach, my thighs, my ass-especially my ass, which is way too big for this kind of arrangement.

I press my lips together, suddenly hyper-conscious of how small the bed feels.

Then, as if to test my limits, Theo sighs. It's deep and lazy, like he's getting comfortable, and I swear I can feel him against my skin even though we're not touching.

"Are you actually trying to sleep," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement, "or just lying there panicking?"

I stiffen. "I'm sleeping."

He hums like he doesn't believe me. "Right."

"I'm going to sleep." I tell him. "Good night."

I bury myself under the covers, facing away from him, as if that will somehow make the situation less awkward. The bed dips as he gets in, and I hold my breath, waiting for some teasing comment about how ridiculous I'm acting.

But all he says is, "Goodnight, Soph."

His voice is calm, distant, and oddly... soothing.

I should be relieved he isn't making this weird, but instead, it just makes me feel worse. What did I expect him to do? Flirt with me? Tease me until I shoved him off the bed?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing sleep to come, but it's impossible. My heart won't stop racing, and my breathing sounds embarrassingly loud in the quiet room. But it's not just my breathing I can hear.

His is steady, soft, almost rhythmic. And the sound of it... it's not annoying. It's kind of nice.

What is wrong with me?

Minutes tick by, or maybe it's hours-I'm not sure. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but my mind won't shut off. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of me.

I yawn, loudly and obviously fake, shifting slightly to steal a glance at him.

The lamp on his side of the bed is still on, casting a warm glow over his face. He's leaning back against the headboard, completely engrossed in his book.

And he's wearing glasses.

I blink, my brain short-circuiting.

He looks... different with them. Softer. Less intimidating. But somehow, even more attractive.

Why did I think that? And why don't I regret thinking that?

I let my gaze linger longer than I should, studying the way the glasses rest on his nose, the way his jaw tenses as he turns a page.

"You done eye-fucking me?"

My heart stops.

"What?" I squeak, whipping around to face the wall again.

"You heard me." His tone is laced with amusement. "You've been staring at me for the past five minutes. If you want to say something, just say it."

I scowl at the wall, mortified. "I wasn't staring."

Theo snorts. "Either you were fucking me with your eyes or you wanted to talk about last night."

Again with last night.

I groan into my pillow, cursing myself for ever agreeing to this. Finally after allowing the frustration slide through me, I turn to him.

"What do you think happened last night?" I sigh, already tired about this talk and really wish I could get some shut eye.

Theo tilts his head, studying me. "You tell me."

And lose my chance of getting a picture of you looking like a male model from a magazine with those sweat pants.

Yeah not a chance.

I keep my face blank, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Nothing happened."

"Did it?" His voice is slow, almost teasing.

I force out a laugh. "Why are you even asking? You were the one who was drunk."

"Yeah, and yet you're the one acting suspicious," he points out.

I shoot him a glare. "I'm not acting suspicious. I just don't want to talk about it."

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Was it my breath? Maybe it was the way I snore? It must've been hard for you to manage that."

That isn't the only thing that was hard for me last night. But I'm not about to say that out loud.

He opens his mouth to throw out another guess, but I cut him off before he can embarrass either of us. "We cuddled."

His lips part, eyebrows furrowing like I just spoke an entirely different language. "We what?"

I nod, shifting to my side, resting my head against the soft pillow that still smells like him. "You asked if you could cuddle me from behind, and I said... yes."

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and I get a good look at him-his glasses, the way they sit on the bridge of his nose, making him look way too much like one of those hot professors from my Kindle romance books. The kind I'd read late at night with my vibrator sitting next to me.

Weird thing to remember right now. But I should probably invest in a new one-one less noticeable in case someone I know snoops around my room.

"So you're saying that I cuddled with you last night..." he finally says, like he's trying to wrap his head around it.

I nod.

"...And you didn't punch me or slap the shit out of me?"

I snort, glancing at the faint bruise on his forehead. "No, I didn't. And besides, aren't you tired of me hurting you already?"

He shrugs, lips twitching like he's fighting back a smirk. "You do remember that you once put honey on my shoe and let a swarm of bees attack me?"

I blink. "I did?"

He nods.

Huh.

Well.

Can't say it doesn't sound like something I'd do.

"Well, I don't," I mumble, shifting against the pillow. "And if I actually did that, then maybe you did something wrong..."

"Oh, I definitely did," he says, his lips curling like he's remembering exactly what it was. But I'm too tired to ask. A yawn forces its way out, making my eyes water.

"Guess someone hit their bedtime," he teases.

"Shut up," I mumble, my body growing heavier by the second. My eyelids droop, and my vision of him flickers with each slow blink-there one second, gone the next.

I yawn again, longer this time, my limbs sinking deeper into his bed. Today has been a ride-from the moment it started to now. And the worst part? I can't stop staring at the very person responsible for making it feel like an exhausting carnival?

"It's okay," Theo murmurs, his voice softer now, like he's giving me permission to sleep.

I don't fight it. His bed is way too comfortable, and for a second, I consider secretly swapping it with mine when he's not around. But that sounds like too much effort.

Just as I start slipping under, I feel a warm hand on my face. His fingers slide to my cheek, giving it a soft pinch.

"You look cute like this."

I should tell him to move his hand-to stop touching me-but I don't.

Because his touch is warm, and when his fingers brush my hair back, tucking it gently behind my ear, it feels... good.

Very, very good.

His touch fades, fingers slipping away from my skin, and a part of me stirs-just barely, just enough to notice. A strange emptiness lingers where his warmth was, like something I hadn't realized I wanted to stay.

I don't mean to move closer. It just happens. A shift, a tiny one, barely noticeable, but enough that my body unconsciously chases the warmth he left behind.

Everything goes quiet.

So quiet, it's almost like he was never there.

My breathing evens out, sleep pulling me deeper, heavier, making it impossible to tell if he's still beside me. My limbs feel weightless, my body sinking further into the bed, into the softness, into the silence.

And then-warmth.

A body.

Close.

A hand slides between my waist and the bed, slow, hesitant. The touch is solid, grounding, as if testing, waiting.

I stir slightly, my body reacting before my mind can, and the hand freezes.

For a moment, neither of us move.

Then I shift, just enough for my face to press into warmth-solid and steady. A breath escapes me as it pulls closer, tucking me in, guiding me without a word.

My head settles on something firm, warmer than the pillow, and a soft exhale leaves my lips as I relax completely.

A quiet sigh of relief comes from above me, warm and soft, almost like he'd been holding his breath. The slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing is right there, close enough for me to feel against my skin.

I know who it is.

But I don't dare say his name.

If I do, I might wake up completely. I might freak out, overthink, ruin the peace settling over me like a blanket.

But my brain is done thinking.

My body takes control, instinct taking over as I let myself sink into the warmth-the warmest body possible.

His.