Page 205 of Chasing Ruin
A slow, upside-down smile forms on his face as he walks over to me with measured steps.
“Is it okay that I did—oomfphhh—”
I’m in the air, being twirled around like I weigh nothing. Which, to be fair, I probably don’t for him.
“Christ,” he breathes out, setting me back down—grinning at me. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“It doesn’t look that great,” I deadpan. “I’m not a seamstress.”
“No, but I love it. Becauseyoudid it.”
I roll my eyes despite the smile taking over my face.
“Thank you, my love,” he whispers, voice suddenly rough. “That’s—I couldn’t—fuck… justthank you.”
He drops his forehead to mine. And I rise to my tiptoes slightly, capturing his quivering lips in a deep kiss.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper against his wobbly smile.
“I don’tnotlove you so much,” he says, squeezing me tighter.
I snort.
“I…”
I love you.
Just fucking say it, Charlotte. You won’t get a more perfect timing.
“I don’tnotlove you, too,” I end up whispering, mentally chastising myself.
??????
“Where is he?”
I meet Mama’s heavy eyes through the mirror as she proceeds to zip up my dress.
After Theo grabbed his cut, he got called in by Ryder. Something about a new development in Hellfire’s ring. Even dead, his life’s work is plaguing our world.
I remember Leila’s haunted gaze right before determination filled it. She’d already turned, itching to go back and save the others. And now we’re learning that we probably only rescued about half the people Hellfire and Ioana had captured.
My heart hurts thinking about all those people.
Did Leila get to them in time? Did Wolf?
Were they not even in that building that went up in flames?
Blinking hard, I force a tight smile on my face. “Ryder had some new information. So Theo wanted to get that out of the way before the party.”
She nods, smoothing her hands over my shoulders. “You’re calling him Theo now.”
It’s not a question. But I feel the weight of it, all the same. Mama never talked to me about Theo the whole time I was away from the club. Even after I came back a few months ago, she chose to keep our conversations controlled—almost guarded. Probably because she knew I wouldn’t be receptive.
I turn to meet her wary gaze. There’s a hint of fear that she’s clearly trying to hide. And I know that fear is for me.
“I am, Mama,” I smile genuinely, lips pulling up softly. But it falls away just as quickly. “Are you not… okay with it? Me and him?”
She gasps. “Of course, I am. If you’re happy, then—”
