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I already knew that there is something different about Theo but it starts to really prove so the next day when he calls me while I'm in the middle of a fantastic dream involving Michael Ealy.

"Hey, are you busy?"
He growls into the phone.

"I was sleeping."
I grumble, rolling over on my stomach.

"Good. Come over here and sleep."

"Theo, I only have a couple of hours before I have to go to work. You want me to get up and drive to your apartment just to go back to sleep?"
I complain.

"Just bring your stuff and get ready over here. I want to see you, Ayah."
Is all he says.

I just stare at my phone, blinking.

Then I groan.

Ugh.

Now I have to get up and do stuff.

I grumble to myself as I slip on a pair of pajama pants and an old undershirt.

He better be glad I forgot to go grocery shopping, they better have a fridge full of food when I go over there.


I get a text right as I'm parking.

Theo: Be quiet when you get here, Mason has a girl over.

I raise an eyebrow.

I wonder who it is, I know he's been talking to one of the models from that academy.

Also a daycare teacher down on Jubilee Street.

And that woman who works at the dollar store, now that I think about it.

He jumps up when I walk in.

"Ayah, hi."
He groans, wrapping his arms around me.

I try not to show my surprise.

Oh my God, he still smells absolutely amazing.

"What is that, pears?"

"Uh huh, it's Kent Garden. A nice touch, huh?"
He asks awkwardly.

"Yeah."
I whisper, slowly hugging him back.

...Aww.

I never thought I'd be hugging him.

I close my eyes, slowly resting my head on his hard chest.

It's even better than I imagined.

"I miss you."
He whispers by my ear.

Tingles shoot down my arms.

"You are being very sweet right now, Theo. There's still time to stop."
I tease quietly.

"Stop it."
He grumbles, shuffling back reluctantly.

I can't stop smiling after that.

He's cute.

"Okay, so how is this supposed to work? I have work at 9 so-"

"Right. Here, come here. You can lay on that side with this pillow."

I frown as he hands it to me.

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