T H E O  G R A Y

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Logan asks just as I take a bite from the apple Maggie handed me a few minutes ago.

It’s been five days.

Five days of staying at Soph’s place.

Five days of pretending I’m okay while everything inside me is not okay.

It’s already hard enough not being near her the way I want to be. The way I know she wants too. But now, I have to act like some polite, well-mannered guest, keeping my distance every time I hear her voice down the hall, or smell her shampoo when she walks by.

"I’m at Soph’s place," I answer, getting up from the couch the second her dad enters the room. He turns the TV volume up and switches it to a hockey game. Perfect excuse for me to leave before he starts a full-blown commentary.

When Soph said he saw me as a second son, I didn’t think she meant it literally. It’s... weird. Not bad weird, just unfamiliar. Having a father figure besides Coach and Mr. Jens, the janitor, someone who actually listens when I talk about going pro—yeah, that’s a kind of weird I can live with.

A good weird.

He doesn’t talk just to fill space. He actually seems to care. Especially when Ryan's around. Like he’s watching me, measuring how serious I am—not just about my future, but about his daughter.

“Soph’s place, huh?” Logan repeats, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I know she didn’t get a new apartment…”

I scoff. “You bet she didn’t.”

He chuckles. I can hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “Chill with the possessive tone, man. Girls don’t exactly swoon for that. I just hope you’re not stressing her out, staying at her parents’ place and all. That’s where you are, right?”

I walk into the kitchen, glad it’s empty. “Yeah. That’s where we are.”

“Damn. You’re fast,” Logan whistles. “Didn’t think you’d be ready to let the parents in on it so soon.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Theo, come on. You know why.”

I pause, my eyes locked on the kitchen door. “No. I don’t.”

“Because this is your first relationship.”

“I know.”

“I mean a real one.”

“I’m aware, Logan.”

Where is he going with this?

“All I’m saying is, this is new territory for you. I didn’t expect you to be cool with her parents knowing already.”

“Yeah… about that…”

“They don’t know?” Logan asks, surprised but keeping his tone level.

“I mean… I’m staying here, yeah. But—” I lower my voice. “Soph’s still trying to figure out the right time to tell them about us.”

“Ah. Got it,” he says, exhaling. “That’s gonna take a while then.”

“What do you mean by that?” My tone sharpens without permission.

“Relax,” he says. “I’m not saying anything bad, dude. I’m just saying... it’s a big deal for her to do that alone. Telling your parents you’re dating someone who’s under their roof? That’s not easy.”

His words hit harder than I want them to. I lean on the counter, guilt tightening in my chest. He’s not wrong. Soph’s carrying all of this on her shoulders. I’ve been so focused on keeping my distance physically, I forgot she’s the one holding up the secret emotionally.

Ryan keeps poking at her social life—especially the boyfriend bit. I can’t count how many times I’ve told him she’s not seeing anyone, but he never buys it. Claims he sees a "sparkle" in her eyes lately that’s… weird.

He calls it weird. I call it breathtaking.

“You’re right,” I admit quietly.

Just then, I hear voices and footsteps. Maggie walks past the kitchen with Soph, both laughing. The sound is sunlight to my storm. I hear Soph’s dad greet them, Maggie answering him easily.

“Told you,” Logan says. “Lydia and I kept things secret for six months before she finally told her folks. Remember that?”

“How could I forget?” I say, opening the fridge. “I was your chaperone every time you went over.”

He laughs. “Good times.”

Good times for him, not me. Watching him make out with his girl while I sat around like a glorified guard dog was enough to put me off lunch and love for weeks.

“Soph, could you grab your father some water from the kitchen?” I hear Maggie tell Soph, and my focus sharpens.

Please come here, please.

“Sure, Mum.” Yes.

“Logan.”

“Yeah.”

I’ll have to call you back,” My pulse spikes as I hear footsteps coming this way. We say our quick goodbyes, and I pretend I wasn’t just standing here waiting like a desperate idiot.

We exchange goodbyes. I don’t know why I suddenly feel so nervous, but I suck it in and pretend I’m doing something rather than waiting to see my girl like a desperate puppy.

I open the fridge and stare at it blankly until I hear her voice behind me.

“Hey,” She mutters in a small tone, and my body turns without control to see her. It's been too long since we've seen like this, just the two of us.

It's wrecking me.

I can't sleep anymore except watch Ryan snore and there are days I want to leave his room and stay with her but then what about in the morning? Or when he wants to take a leak and I'm not there.

These thoughts are the only reason I'm holding back.

“Hey.” That’s all I manage? Pathetic.

I clear my throat and take a small step forward. “Do you need something, love?” I know why she's here but I want to hear her talking to me more.

We either text or send voice notes. It's not the same. I prefer this way.

“Um… just getting water for Dad.” She avoids my eyes, but her blush betrays her. God, I want to touch her. Just once. If lucky, then more than once.

I don't say anything. Instead, I grab water from the fridge as I hear movements next to me. The awkwardness is an uncomfortable shroud, and I don't blame the situation. Soph is being extra careful, and even the slightest slip-up could ruin everything.

“Thanks.” She collects the water from me and pours it into a glass. My eyes cling to her the whole time, unable to look away. My eyes travel from her cheek, down her neck, then stop, of course—on her lips.

I guess she must feel me staring because speaks up.

“Theo…”

“Yes?” I shift closer.

“Stop doing that.”

"Doing what?"

"Staring."

"Hmm, I think it's called admiring."

She laughs, then turns to me, her eyes sparkling. “What’s there to admire? You see me every day.” She teases.

“But I don’t touch you every day. Now do I?” Her jaw drops, and that just makes me want to say more.

Do more.

"Sophie!" her mum calls from the living room, and just like that, the moment I’ve been dying to have vanishes into thin air.

"Coming!" Soph calls back, grabbing the cup of water. She starts to leave but pauses at the doorway and turns back to me.

“Thirty minutes.”

My brows knit. “Of what?”

She doesn’t answer the way I expect—just gives me this soft look that says everything. “Just give me thirty minutes,” she murmurs, then walks away, leaving me standing in the kitchen with my heart thudding against my ribs.

I let out a long sigh, debating if I should follow her or just crash here instead of pretending to be interested in whatever her dad’s rambling about in the living room.

Sitting there and acting like I’m not crazy about. their daughter? Yeah, no thanks.

I lean back against the counter and let my head fall back a little.

Ryan has it easy.

He gets to visit his girlfriend all day, spend time with her, kiss her, hold her—exist around her like it’s normal.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck playing the polite houseguest, careful not to stare too long or sit too close. Trapped in this house where every second I’m not touching Soph feels like slow torture.

If her parents knew… if Ryan knew… we could’ve gone out. On an actual date. Like two normal people.

Hell, I realize we haven’t even had a proper date. Not one. No movies. No late-night walks. No coffee runs just to stare at each other across the table.

I call myself her boyfriend, but I feel like I’m falling short in every way.

God, I suck at this.

Who knew dating would be this hard?

I could’ve been on the rink by now, at least that would’ve helped. Throwing some pucks around, zoning out, letting the ice swallow my thoughts for a while. But the final round’s still a long way off. Everything’s been pushed back thanks to some drama between NHL players and their contracts, so the tournaments are postponed until further notice.

Coach hasn’t even bothered messaging the team. I guess that’s his way of saying we should rest.

Pulling out my phone, I scroll through social media just to kill time, trying not to think about Soph or how much I miss her even when she’s only a few rooms away.

Then a message from my dad pops up on the screen.

Could today get any worse?

'Where are you?' It reads. 'I went to the apartment and heard you travele without my permission.'

He came to the apartment?

Thank fuck I wasn’t there. If he’d shown up and found Soph with me, it would've been chaos. The man doesn’t just stir shit—he brews it, serves it cold, and dares you not to punch him in the face.

I quickly type back:

'Staying at a friend's place. Stop texting me'

Then I switch off my phone completely and silence it—because I know he’ll call. He always calls. And right now? I can’t deal with him.

Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I make my way toward the stairs, planning to hole up in Ryan’s room for the rest of the day.

I stop my tracks when I hear Maggie call out my name. Turning back, I see Maggie smiling from the couch. Soph’s dad is passed out beside her, his feet resting comfortably in her lap as he snores away.

"Theo dear," Maggie's face curves to a smile. An excited one. "How are you?"

I force a small smile, standing already in front of her. “I’m good, ma’am.”

She nods slowly. “That’s good to hear, because… I’ve noticed how quiet you’ve been lately. Gloomy, even. Like something’s weighing you down.”

Shit. Has my mood been that obvious?

"I straighten up a little, trying to recover. “Oh—no, no. Nothing’s wrong. I’ve been good. Just…”

“Moody,” she finishes, raising a brow.

I laugh awkwardly. “Yeah… something like that.”

She watches me for a beat, like she’s reading between the lines—like she knows. Then, just as I prepare to escape with a quick excuse, her smile grows a little wider.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she says, “why don’t you and Soph go out for a bit?”

"What?" Did I hear her correctly?

"Yes, you two should go around town." Maggie’s smile warms as she speaks. "Soph mentioned how bored she’s been, which surprised me—she usually loves her alone time. But I guess staying in New York changes you, right?"

She chuckles lightly before continuing. "And since Ryan isn’t around to take her for a drive, I figured you could." Her eyes glint with mischief. "Is that alright with you?"

Talk, you idiot. Don’t mess this up.

“Of course—why not?” I clear my throat, trying to hold myself together. My pulse is ridiculous right now. I need to calm the hell down.

"That’s wonderful." She beams. "Give her a few minutes. She just brought it up to me, so I imagine she’s getting ready."

Wait… Thirty minutes.

Is that what she meant earlier?

That’s my girl.

I bite down on the grin fighting to break out and nod politely before excusing myself. I head upstairs, already feeling like I’ve won something just by knowing I get to be alone with her—outside, away from walls and secrets.

I stop in front of her door and try the handle.

Locked.

Figures.

“Who is it?” Soph’s voice comes through, all sing-songy and teasing like she knew I’d show up.

“I know you know. Open the door for me, love.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Wait a few minutes. Then you can see me.”

“But I want to see you now.”

“No.” She giggles. I hear her moving around—closet doors maybe? Her feet shifting quickly. “I’m naked.”

My body reacts before I even process the words.

“And?”

She gasps. “When did you go all bad?”

“Maybe when I realized this distance sucks.”

“And that’s exactly why you should wait,” she says, half-laughing, half-sweet-talking me through the door. “Mum already told you we’re going out, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did. And that’s why I want to tell you how brilliantly smart you are.”

“You can do that from the other side of the door, babe.”

I groan and rest my forehead against the wood, feeling utterly, hopelessly, pathetically whipped.

“You’re enjoying this. Watching me suffer.”

“A little,” she says with zero shame. “Just wait a few, and I’m all yours.”

Oh, I’ll wait.

If I’ve managed to survive five days of stolen glances and forced distance, what’s a few more minutes?

Take all the time you need, my love. I’m not going anywhere.

♡♡♡

There aren’t many places in Pineville—especially not when you’re trying to sneak in a date with your girlfriend without her parents figuring it out.

After freshening up, I step outside and lean against the side of my car, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward the house every few seconds like some love-struck idiot.

I pull out my phone, pretending I’m casually checking the weather or scrolling through messages—but really, I’m just looking up anywhere remotely romantic in town. Spoiler alert: there’s not much.

So it’s a date.

Our first.

Even saying that messes with my head. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, or how dates are even supposed to go. I’ve got a few ideas, sure, but most of them belong in the chaos of New York—not this sleepy town with its one diner and some dusty hiking trails no one actually hikes.

Not exactly dream-date material.

I let out a slow breath, head tipping back as I stare up at the sky.

I just wanted this to be special.

This is her first date. Ever. And it has to count. It has to be one of those memories she’ll talk about for years, not just a blurry afternoon we forget by next week.

If we weren’t staying with her parents, would’ve taken her anywhere. Literally. I’ve saved more money than she probably knows. Anywhere she wanted. That’s how far I’d go just to see her smile like she means it.

Not because I’m some big spender—but because I like spending on her.

It’s like an addiction I never want to quit.

My fingers tap against my leg, then stop when I hear the front door creak open.

Voices.

Maggie’s, I think. Then Soph's. They’re talking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Not because they’re far away.

Because the second she steps out, my mind forgets how to function.

Everything slows.

Soph walks out of the house like the air belongs to her and fuck, right now it does.

She steps out in a red dress with tiny white polka dots, the hem brushing just above her knees. A dark blue jacket hangs off her shoulders, white sneakers on her feet.

Her hair’s down, soft around her face. Like she didn’t try—but I know she did. It’s Soph. She never does anything halfway.

By the heavens, she’s beautiful.

I didn’t even realize she was moving until she cleared her throat, and just like that, my trance snapped.

I blink, finally noticing that she’s standing a few feet away, waiting on me.

She’s trying to play it cool but I can see the nerves flickering in her smile.

She bites the bottom of her lip, and it wrecks me. That one tiny move has my entire body screaming to close the distance.

Her fingers fidget at the edge of her jacket, like she doesn’t know what to do with them. Like maybe—just maybe—she wishes I’d take her hand. Or pull her in. Or tell her it’s okay to be nervous.

That she looks beyond perfect.

“Theo.”

Her voice is soft. I snap to attention.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go.” She glances back at the house, then lowers her voice. “Mum could be watching us through the windows.”

That pulls me back to earth fast.

“Right,” I mutter, suddenly remembering how I'm supposed to behave. Stepping forward, I open the car door for her and she whispers 'thanks," before slipping in, her dress brushing against the seat.

I close the door carefully and jog around the car, trying to act calm even though my chest feels like it’s trying to outrun my body.

Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I grip the wheel and start the engine—too fast, probably. My pulse is still doing cartwheels.

“So…” she starts, turning slightly in her seat as we drive farther from the house. “Where are we going?”

I don’t answer right away.

Instead, I pull up to the corner of a quiet street and ease the car to a stop. My hand reaches for the keys, and I kill the engine.

Silence.

She turns toward me, brows drawing together.

“Why did we stop?”

I turn my body fully toward her, the center console barely between us. My hands flex on my thighs. My jaw tenses. And when I meet her eyes, there’s no hiding the want written all over my face.

“Soph.”

Her lips part slightly. “Y-yeah?” The nerves are already starting to show in her voice. I can tell by the way she shifts in her seat, the way her breath stutters.

Good.

Because I’m wrecked. And I want her to feel it too.

My eyes drop to her lips for a second, then rise to meet hers again.

“I want to kiss you.”

Her lips part slightly, surprise flickering across her face.

“Oh.” She blinks, trying to play it cool. “Right now?”

“Right now.”

She leans in instinctively, as if her body doesn’t need her brain to agree but I shake my head, holding her there with just a look.

“What?” she asks, confused. "You don’t want to kiss anymore?"

She's joking right?

I lean back slightly, letting the tension sit heavy between us. My voice drops low, thick with everything I’ve been holding back.

“I want you on me when I kiss you.”

Her jaw drops, a scandalized gasp escaping her throat.

“Theo!” she practically squeaks, her cheeks flaring red. “Y-you can’t just say something like that—”

"Oh, baby." I grin, leaning to her. “I definitely can. And I will. Have mercy on your poor boyfriend and get on top of him, like he deserves because he really does."

Her eyes narrow slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s fighting a smile. “Deserves it?”

“I’ve earned this,” I continue, gaze steady on hers. “Let me have you like I’ve been dreaming of. Just… get on top of me. Like I deserve.”

“Five days, Soph. Five days of pretending to be normal. Five days of hearing your voice and not touching you. I think I’ve earned a treat.”

She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

And maybe I have.

But I don’t care.

Because she’s smiling now. Biting her bottom lip, trying not to laugh. And when she unbuckles her seatbelt, slowly—God help me—I know I’ve already won.

Her dress lifts slightly as she slowly shifts her legs, climbing one over the console. Her thigh brushes against my arm. I freeze, breath caught in my throat. Then she swings the other leg over and settles down in my lap, her knees bracketing my hips, her body warm against mine.

I can barely breathe.

My hands move before I think, sliding up along the outside of her thighs, fingers finding the soft, smooth skin just under the hem of her dress. I grip her gently, but firm enough to pull her closer until her body is completely on mine, chest to chest, her breath hitting my neck.

She’s trembling.

Just slightly. But I feel it.

Her fingers grip the collar of my shirt, unsure of where to hold on. Then she leans forward, barely an inch from my lips.

“L-Like this?” she whispers, her voice husky. “You want me like this, Theo?"

I look down—at the way she’s sitting on me, the press of her hips into mine, my hands wrapped around her thighs like they belong thereand then back up to her lips.

Fuck.

“You bet.” And then I crash my lips on her. Hard.