The Gray Effect - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

S O P H I A H O N E Y
"THIS BOOK DOESN'T MAKE SENSE," I say, shoving a handful of chips into my mouth as I scroll through my Kindle.
After the long day I had-gathering a bunch of information about my new job, or slavery as Blair likes to call it-I came back to the apartment, eager to have a Netflix-and-chill night all to myself. The girls had invited me over to their dorm, even suggested a sleepover, and while I knew it would be fun, I'm too used to my alone time to say yes. So now, here I am.
I've been here for a couple of minutes.
Okay, maybe hours.
"She's so dumb," I mutter to myself, growing increasingly frustrated with the book I'm reading. This is the fourth one today, and out of all the female characters I've encountered, this one has to be the craziest. Wanting to get laid next to her parents' room? That's next-level reckless. Even thinking about doing the same in her place would freak me the hell out.
Being the good girl is exhausting sometimes. Maybe that's why I read books like this-living vicariously through these fictional characters. But even then, the reality of actually doing something like that? Still terrifying.
Maybe this is a sign that I need a good fuck.
My first time was bad enough, which probably explains why I'm like this. But how do I even get laid when I have no clue what to do or how to go about it?
I sigh, shutting my Kindle and setting it beside me as I lean back against the couch. My gaze flickers between the clock on the wall and the front door.
Three in the morning.
And Theo's still not back.
I expected him to show up at some point, maybe a few hours after I got home, all smug and annoying, demanding to know why I was at the rink. But for the past several hours, he's been out.
It's not unusual for him to be out late, but this late? By now, he'd usually be home, either watching a movie or working out, sticking to his usual routine.
My eyes land on my phone, resting on the coffee table.
I sit up, reaching for it-then quickly pull my hand back.
What am I doing?
Am I seriously thinking about calling him? Why should I? He's probably at some club, wasting his time, drinking, and maybe looking for chicks.
The classic playboy outing.
Just as I shake off the thought, my phone starts ringing, the suddenness making me jolt. My heart hammers as I glance at the screen.
Theo.
Why is he calling me? Does he want to gloat about how much fun he's having?
I slide to ignore and slump back against the couch, grabbing my Kindle again. But before I can even open the book, my phone rings again.
I groan, swiping to accept. "What?" I snap. "Why are you call-"
"Hey, Soph, it's Logan."
"Oh." I pause, taken aback. "Umm... hey, Logan." A beat of silence. "What are you doing with Theo's phone? Is everything okay?"
Why am I worrying about Theo? I should calm down and let Logan talk.
"Oh, yeah, he's just-Theo, stop that!" Logan shouts away from the phone, his voice strained. "Could you open the door, Soph? We just got out of the elevator."
"Oh, alright."
I stand up and head to the front door, unlocking it just as Logan and Theo stumble inside. Logan is practically holding Theo up as they make their way in, Theo swaying heavily. Then, after a few steps, Theo shrugs out of Logan's hold and sits down on the floor, his back hitting the wall.
"For fuck's sake, Theo!" Logan mutters under his breath, crouching beside him. He grips Theo's arm, trying to pull him up, but Theo doesn't budge.
"Get the fuck up," Logan hisses, yanking again.
Theo groans, sliding his arm away and shifting to the other side.
"Logan?" I whisper, stepping closer. "What's going on?"
I glance at Theo, who's grinning like a fool, eyes shut.
"What's wrong with him?"
Logan exhales sharply, pushing strands of hair away from his face. "Nothing. Just him acting like this when he drinks too much."
"He's drunk?" I look at Theo again, noticing how red his face is. "His face looks like a monkey's butt." I bite my lip, holding back a laugh.
Logan chuckles. "He always has a monkey butt face, by the way."
I'm this close to laughing out loud.
"I can hear you guys," Theo mumbles, his voice low but clear. "And I don't have a butt face."
Slowly, he opens his eyes but I can tell it takes effort.
I kneel in front of him, catching the faint scent of alcohol. His whole demeanor makes me think about how I behaved last week when I got drunk.
Was I worse?
Or better?
I sure hope I was the latter.
I stare at Theo, watching as he lazily tilts his head back against the wall, blinking slowly like the effort of keeping his eyes open is just too much.
Logan stands up, stretching his arms. "Well, I should probably head out."
I whip my head toward him. "What?" My voice comes out more panicked than I intend, and Logan just raises an eyebrow.
"I have to head out," he repeats, "The other guys are drunk as well and I need to drop them off at their dorms. They are lucky enough that Coach gave us a break or else."
"You're seriously just gonna leave him like this?" I gesture wildly at Theo, who is now poking at the floor as if it holds the secrets of the universe. "What if he- I don't know-does something stupid? Shouldn't we get him to bed or something?"
I should not be worrying over this.
I should be getting my phone and taking a picture of him acting this way and making fun of it throughout the week.
Yet I'm not.
Logan shakes his head. "It's a waste of time, Soph. Trust me. This isn't his first rodeo of acting this way. He'll sleep it off right there and get up when he's ready."
I gape at him. "So, what? I'm just supposed to leave him on the floor?"
"Yup," Logan says, popping the p.
I glance down at Theo again. His eyes are closed, but his lips are twitching like he's trying not to smile.
"Okay then." I mutter even though I'm not enough the thought of him lying on the floor.
Did I mention the floor is cold?
"Don't think too much Soph." Logan claps me on the shoulder. "He'll get up. Eventually."
I glare at him, but he just grins. "Good luck, Soph," he teases, already backing toward the door.
"Wait, Logan-"
"Night!" he calls before slipping out and shutting the door behind him.
I turn back to Theo with a sigh, kneeling in front of him again. He's still resting against the wall, looking completely at ease.
I nudge his knee lightly. "Theo."
Nothing.
I poke his arm. "Theo, come on, you should at least-"
"Sophia," he murmurs, his voice soft and heavy with exhaustion.
I freeze. He rarely ever calls me by my full name. It's always Soph or Sophie.
"What?" I ask, my voice quieter now.
He finally cracks one eye open, staring at me like I'm the most interesting thing in the world. "You're freaking out."
"I am not freaking out," I argue.
He smirks lazily. "Liar."
I groan. "Theo, seriously, at least get up and go to your bed. The floor is not comfortable."
"Feels fine to me." He stretches out his legs, proving his point.
I throw my hands up in frustration. "I swear you're more annoying when drunk."
Theo chuckles, the sound deep and warm, and for some reason, it makes my stomach turn.
And not in a bad way.
I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Fine. Sleep there. But don't complain when you wake up with a stiff neck."
He grins. "Would you fix it for me?"
I roll my eyes. "Theo, just get up."
"No."
"Theo..."
"Sophia...."
I huff, placing my hands on my hips as I glare down at Theo. He's still sprawled against the wall, looking way too comfortable for someone sleeping on the floor.
"Okay, that's it," I mutter. "You're getting up."
"No," he mumbles without even opening his eyes.
"Yes," I argue, grabbing his arm and attempting to drag him up. But of course, he doesn't budge.
"Theo, get up," I demand, putting more effort into pulling.
"Nope," he says, his voice almost playful.
"Oh my God, why are you even worse now?"
I grit my teeth and dig my heels into the floor, using all my strength to tug at him. And for a second, I think it's working-until I suddenly feel a strong grip on my wrist.
Before I can process what's happening, I lose my balance, stumbling forward.
And then-I freeze.
I'm inches away from Theo's face. His fingers are wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place.
My breath catches as I take in the lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes-half-lidded from exhaustion and alcohol-glint with mischief.
"Thought you were dragging me, Soph?" His voice is lower, teasing.
My heart stutters in my chest, and I suddenly become very aware of how close we are-his warm breath fanning across my skin, the heat radiating from his body.
I swallow. "Let go of me, Theo."
He raises an eyebrow, the smirk widening. "And if I don't?"
I blink, completely thrown off by his words. Did he just-
"Theo, you're drunk," I say slowly, trying to keep my voice steady even though my entire body feels like it's burning up.
He hums in response, his head tilting slightly as he looks at me, eyes heavy-lidded. "I'm not. You are."
I try to move again, but his grip stays firm, his fingers wrapped securely around my wrist. "Theo, let me go."
"No."
"Theo."
"No."
I let out a frustrated sigh, my mind racing for a way to escape this ridiculous situation. But then he shifts, resting his forehead against my shoulder again, his warm breath fanning against my neck.
"You're warm," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.
And then-he nuzzles his nose against my collarbone, sending a sharp shiver down my spine.
My entire body freezes.
What. The. Hell.
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, my pulse hammering as he lingers there, completely unfazed by the absolute havoc he's causing inside me.
Okay, nope. I need to get out of this.
"Theo-" I start, but before I can say anything else, his grip tightens.
"Don't go." His voice is softer this time, almost... pleading.
I swallow, my breath hitching. "Theo..."
"Please," he whispers. "Don't leave me too."
Me too?
I still. My frustration fades as something heavier settles over me. There's something in his voice-something raw. Broken.
I glance down at him, searching his face. His usually sharp features are softened with exhaustion, his lips slightly parted, his brows furrowed like he's trying to hold something back.
I feel my heart squeeze.
Who left him?
"Theo..." I say hesitantly, placing my hand over his. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Just... remove your hand."
He shakes his head. "No. You'll leave me. Like they did."
My chest tightens. I need to ask. "Like who did?"
Silence.
I bite my lip, trying to think of how to handle this. He's clearly not in the right headspace, and I'd rather not fight him all night.
"Theo, we can't stay on the floor," I reason, my voice softer now. "I'm cold."
He shifts slightly, finally pulling back just enough for me to see his face clearly.
And it hits me.
He looks broken.
His usual cocky smirk, his playful arrogance-gone.
I swallow hard.
"You're cold?" he asks quietly.
I nod. "Yes. And you will be too if you don't get in bed."
He shrugs. "I don't mind the cold."
I narrow my eyes at him. "Well, I do."
His lips twitch slightly, but then his expression shifts. "...It's not like I'll sleep if I go to bed."
My heart stops.
I pause, my frustration melting away. "You won't sleep?"
He shakes his head.
I hesitate, watching as he leans in again-probably to rest on me-but this time, I press a hand to his forehead, stopping him.
He pouts.
"I'm cold," he states, and I almost groan. That's what I've been saying this entire time!
"That's why I said you should go to bed," I remind him.
"I'll still be cold if I go to bed." His voice is quieter now, almost slurred. His eyes look so tired. "I don't like sleeping alone."
Something inside me clenches at that.
I open my mouth, then close it. I don't know what to say.
I should tell him to suck it up. I should tell him that I definitely won't be sticking around just because he suddenly hates being alone.
Instead-
"Then get a teddy bear," I blurt out.
He blinks, like he wasn't expecting that response.
I wasn't expecting that response.
Then, before I can backtrack-
"Will you be the bear?"
My brain short-circuits.
"What?" I whisper, completely thrown off.
He stares at me, his expression open and serious in the most unserious way. "You said I should get a bear since I'm cold. But you feel warm. So... can you be my bear?"
I gape at him.
Did he just-?
No. Absolutely not.
"Theo," I start, voice strained, "I am not going to be your teddy bear."
"But you're warm," he murmurs, like that explains everything.
I sigh, trying once again to pry his hand off my wrist, but he doesn't budge. He's strong even when he's drunk, and it's beyond frustrating.
"I don't care if you're drunk. I'll hit you if you don't let go."
He doesn't. Instead, he buries his face in my shoulder again, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
"You also smell good," he mutters.
Oh, hell no.
My body feels like it's overheating, every nerve hyperaware of how close he is.
"Theo," I warn, "if you don't let go then I'll.... I'll bite you." Bite you? Really?
"I don't mind." He says and I know he's smirking.
Why did Logan leave me with this version of Theo?
"I don't like sleeping alone," he says again and I sigh.
"Then get a-"
"I know. A teddy bear," he interrupts, smirking slightly. "Which is why I asked if you could be mine."
"No," I say firmly.
Theo frowns, his grip on my hand loosening before he finally lets go. Without another word, he lies down on the cold floor.
I cross my arms. "You should get up and go to bed."
His eyes flick up to me, and despite his drunken state, there's something clear about his expression. "Will you join me?"
I exhale sharply, frustration bubbling up. "Goodnight, Theo." Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel, walk into my room, and shut the door behind me with a little more force than necessary.
Collapsing onto my bed, I stare at the ceiling, annoyed. My things are still in the living room, but I don't care. I shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but it doesn't come.
Why do I even care? If he wants to freeze out there, that's on him. I'm not sharing a bed with him-that was never on my agenda tonight.
But he helped you when you were drunk too, a little voice in my head reminds me.
I scowl. Yeah, but I didn't ask him to sleep in the same bed as me.
I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. Just sleep, damn it!
But minutes pass, and I'm still tossing and turning, my mind at war with itself. Finally, I sigh, pressing my lips together before forcing myself to get up. Every step toward the door feels like a betrayal of my own stubbornness, but I push it open anyway.
Theo is still where I left him, lying on the floor, but this time his eyes are closed. Relief washes over me-at least he's asleep.
"Stop staring at me," he mumbles.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
I clear my throat, crossing my arms. "Get up." I take a deep breath. "Let's go inside."
His eyes blink open at my words, and his whole face lights up. "For real?"
Why does he look like an excited child right now?
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, stepping closer and grabbing his hand, attempting to pull him up. He rises effortlessly, and I nearly glare at him for how easily he moves.
Cunning bastard.
"So..." I hesitate, glancing at him. "Which room are you-"
"Yours."
Of course.
When we reach my room, my gaze quickly sweeps over everything, making sure there's nothing embarrassing lying around. Once satisfied, I motion for him to get into bed.
Theo climbs in with ease, settling in like he belongs there. I stand by the door, fighting the sudden urge to turn around and run, but then he calls my name.
"Sophie." His voice is slow, softer now. He shifts to the side, tapping the empty space beside him. "Lie down."
"You're warm now, right?" I try one last time. "The bed should help you sleep-"
"It doesn't." His voice is sharp, cutting through my excuse. He may be drunk, but in this moment, he sounds completely sober. "I want you in the bed."
I hesitate. "But..."
"Please stay, Soph." He sits up slightly, looking right at me. "I need this."
I swallow hard as I slowly climb onto the bed, keeping as much distance as possible between us. My entire body is tense, every nerve on edge as I settle under the covers.
This is fine, I tell myself. It's just one night. He's drunk, clearly going through something, and I'd feel like the worst person alive if I let him freeze on the floor.
I keep my back turned to him, facing the wall, my arms curled close to my chest as I try to steady my heartbeat.
It's fine.
I shut my eyes.
...But then I hear movement.
A shift of fabric. The faint creak of the mattress.
And then-
Warmth.
My breath catches as I feel him inch closer, his body heat radiating against my back.
No. No, no, no.
"Theo-" I start, about to roll away, but then I feel it.
His forehead gently presses against the back of my shoulder.
I freeze.
I don't move. I can't move.
His breath is warm against my skin as he exhales slowly, his fingers gripping the blanket between us.
"I just..." His voice is so quiet, so unlike his usual confident self. "...I don't want to be alone tonight."
My stomach tightens.
I should say something. Anything.
But I don't trust my voice right now.
Instead, I stay still, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
I should tell him to move. I should push him away.
But for some reason, I don't.
Minutes pass in silence.
And then-
"...Soph?"
I blink, my fingers gripping the sheets. "Yeah?"
A pause.
Then, in the softest whisper-
"Thank you."
My chest aches in a way I don't understand.
I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to stay still, pretending I'm unaffected.
But deep down, I know the truth.
I am affected.
And that scares me more than anything.