Page 186 of Chasing Ruin
I go still. My brain scrambles—pulling up hazy, scattered memories. Years of watching him. Following him. Obsessing over every little thing. Every glance. Every movement. Every interaction.
Nothing shows up. Not a single memory of him with any of them.
My cheeks burn hotter. Out of everything I’d noticed about Theo back then… I missed that?
A strange knot in my chest loosens.
Relief floods me—sharp and immediate. And completely ridiculous.
I press my lips together, annoyed at myself for even feeling it. But it’s too late.
A small, traitorous smile tugs at my mouth anyway. Around me, the girls exchange knowing looks—then dissolve into soft giggles.
Fuck. I’m screwed, aren’t I?
??????
I find him in the gazebo.
The dark clouds of dusk are drowning the whole backyard in a somber light.
One sleeve of his t-shirt is scrunched up to his shoulder, a sharpie firmly clutched in the other hand. I can see the cloth stretching across his chest as he adjusts his position on the bench.
Frowning at whatever he drew over his bicep, he quickly starts sketching on the pad in his lap. His lips curve up, pausing to admire his work. Pulling my own soft smile out instantly.
“If I didn’t know any better,” I say, startling him slightly. “I’d say you were avoiding me.” A part of me is scared that I’m right.
It was hours ago that I ran into Torch, who told me that they’d been done with their‘club business’by noon. Yet, I couldn’t catch a single glimpse of Theo after.
And here I am, the sunless sky above us. All while Theo is seeking solitude and a sketch pad.
An uneasy feeling crawls up my spine.
He inadvertently discovered a part of me to burrow himself into. And now I crave him as much as I crave peace.
It’s not his presence, necessarily, that I’m wishing for. But simply him.
Staying in that place he carved out for himself in my heart.
“How could I ever avoid you, Charlotte,” he says softly, gaze scanning my face. “When you’re always right here with me.” He taps his chest, his cheeks reddening.
“Is that notebook filled with cheesy pick up lines?” I tilt my head, slowly climbing up the two steps of the gazebo.
“I don’t need pick up lines, my love,” he murmurs, setting down his pens and sketch pad to his side without taking his eyes off me. “All I need is truth.”
“Is that so?”
His face lifts up slowly as I near him. The sheer awe in his face is enough to undo me. Shattering all the walls I built around myself to keep this club out. To keep him out.
I swallow hard, stopping right between his widened legs. Then I shiver when his hands come up to rest on my waist.
“Truth, Charlotte,” he whispers, tugging me closer as his arms encircle me.
His eyes gleam under the soft light of the setting sun. Reverent. So full of love. “The truth is that I held myself back for more than two years,” he says, brows twisting with pain. “The guilt. The fear. The love that evolved. And now I can’t seem to stop my feelings from coming out. So no, baby—I don’t need pick up lines to earn a place in your life. I know I don’t deserve it. Which is why I’m sticking with the truth.”
He grins weakly, lopsided. “Maybe you’ll eventually take pity on me someday.”
I scoff, but there’s no heat there.
