The Gray Effect - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

S O P H I A H O N E Y
THE BED is empty.
For the first time since I ended up in Theo's, well, situation, I wake up without Theo's body pressed against mine. No heavy arm draped over my waist. No slow, even breaths warming the back of my neck. And-most importantly-no solid proof of his existence poking into me.
I stare at the ceiling, my brain catching up. The sheets next to me are still warm, so he hasn't been gone for long. But there's no sound of running water from the bathroom, which meant he's probably out of the room.
I exhale, pushing up on my elbows. The bed feels weird without him. Lighter. Colder. I don't like that realization, so I shove it down and swing my legs over the edge, rubbing at my eyes. It's fine. It's good, actually. I made it through a night in Theo's bed anything too weird happening. But I also didn't like how strangely alone the bed felt without him in it.
Ugh. No. Not going there.
I'm already at the door, fingers curling around the handle, when I hear a voice.
"So? Who's on your bed." Shit. Logan's here.
I snatch my hand back like the door just burned me. What the hell is Logan doing here? And why do I suddenly feel like a criminal about to be caught?
I regretted everything. Everything.
Why did I listen to Theo? Why did I let him pull me into his bed just because he asked? Because he looked like absolute shit? Because he was practically on the verge of dying when I went to get him? Because some stupid, irrational part of me actually cared if he was okay?
God.
It has to be pity. That's the only thing that makes sense. He was exhausted, barely conscious, and I was there. It's not like it meant anything.
And, well... at least I'm getting paid to be here. That's the one rational thought I cling to.
If this makes me an idiot, then fine-I'll be an idiot with a little cash in my palm.
God, I sound cheap.
Mum would be so disappointed. But I'm doing this so I don't have to keep asking for money. We're barely surviving as it is, and I don't want my being here to be another burden.
Sure, they send me money every week, but it's not enough. Turns out, what seemed decent back home barely covers anything here. Everything's fucking expensive.
I hear Theo sigh, bringing my thoughts back.
"It's no one. You're imagining things."
Logan scoffs. "Bullshit. You're a terrible liar." his voice then drops slightly, like he's trying to dig. "So? Do I know this no one?"
A pause. Then Theo says, "It's nobody, Logan. Can we talk about something else?"
Logan laughs under his breath. "Okay. No one, huh?"
Theo doesn't even hesitate. "Yes. No one."
I don't know why that stings. It's not like I want Logan to know I'm here. But the way Theo says it-flat, dismissive, like I don't even matter-rubs me the wrong way.
I shouldn't care. I don't care.
So why does it sit so uncomfortably in my chest?
Logan takes a deep breath. "No problem."
There's a beat of silence, then he asks, "How are you doing?"
I don't hear Theo respond right away. A few seconds pass. Then a few more. I almost think he's not going to answer at all until, finally, he speaks.
"I'm fine."
Logan exhales sharply, like he doesn't believe him. "Good. But don't pull that stunt again." His tone shifts, firm but something else too-concern? "Sophia was worried."
I stiffen. I was?
Theo reacts immediately. "She was?"
I roll my eyes. No, not worried. Just... startled. Scared, maybe. Watching someone practically die on their feet does that to a person. It wasn't like I cared.
Logan doesn't give Theo time to think about it. "Yeah. She sent me a voicemail when she couldn't reach you. It was already late when I saw it, so that's why I'm here."
Theo doesn't say anything to that.
The silence stretches, and for some reason, my stomach twists.
Then Logan speaks again, softer this time. "I get it, man. I do. But is it really worth killing your body and mind over?"
That throws me.
What is he talking about?
"Yes." Theo's voice is steady, certain. "You know it is."
Logan exhales, frustrated. "I do," he admits. "But I can't stand here and watch you collapse, Theo. The game is Saturday-a week from now. If you want to actually be in it without Coach pulling you out, you need to stop. If he finds out you're running yourself into the ground, he'll bench you. Do you want that?"
My mind is already racing, trying to put the pieces together.
What exactly is Theo doing to himself?
I know yesterday caught me off guard with his behavior, but I figured maybe athletes are just overly ambitious-it's normal for them to push themselves. But from the way things sound, it seems like it's more than that.
It stretches so long that I start to wonder if Theo is going to answer at all.
Then, finally, he says, "No."
But it doesn't sound convincing.
Logan must hear it too, because he lets out a sharp breath. "Then stop being an idiot. You think Coach is blind? You barely made it off the ice yesterday. If he catches on-"
"I won't get caught." Theo's voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it, like he's already made up his mind.
Logan groans. "Jesus, man. You act like this is life or death."
Another silence.
Then Theo says, "Maybe it is."
Logan mutters something under his breath, too low for me to hear. Then, louder, "I know you, Theo. I know why you're pushing this hard. But you can't fix anything by destroying yourself."
Destroying himself?
I press my back against the wall, my mind spinning.
What the hell is going on?
""Look, I'm just worried about you." Logan exhales sharply before continuing. "So please, take the day off and rest. I was heading to the rink but decided to check up on you first."
"Oh," Theo starts, then quickly adds, "Let's go together. Let me-"
"Did you even fucking hear me?" Logan snaps, his voice so sharp and loud that I almost jump. "Don't push me, Theo. You know I could tell Coach about yesterday, and you know exactly what that would mean."
Theo scoffs, clearly unimpressed. "Is that a threat?"
"I don't know," Logan mutters. "But for once, just listen. Rest. Don't touch a hockey stick until your mind is at peace with your body."
A beat of silence follows before I hear Logan step away. "I'm leaving now. Take care of yourself."
Theo doesn't say a word.
"So damn stubborn," Logan mutters as the front door creaks open. Then, as if he just remembered, he adds, "Tell Sophie I said hi."
The door clicks shut, and the apartment falls into silence.
I exhale, then push the door open fully, stepping out. Theo is still standing there, his back to me, both hands gripping the edge of the sink like he's trying to crush it under his fingers. His veins clearly visible and his head slightly bowed down, jaw clenched, arms tense. His entire body radiating something I never associate with him.
He's pissed.
Not just irritated. Not just annoyed. Pissed.
I hesitate for half a second, watching him, my brows knitting together. It's weird. I've seen Theo in a million different moods-cocky, teasing, indifferent, smug. But I've never seen him look like this.
And I don't know why that unsettles me.
I clear my throat. "How's your body now?" No reply so I ask again. "Does it still hurt?"
Why am I still standing here.?
He doesn't want me around.
Theo doesn't look up. He shifts away from the counter and heads toward the living room. "I'm fine." His voice is clipped, dismissive. He brushes past me, like I'm nothing more than air.
I watch him go, something burning in my stomach. Liar. He's obviously not fine, and if he didn't want me around, he could've just said so. I should leave. I should go to my room and pretend none of this is my problem.
But my legs won't move.
My mind screams at me to walk away, to stop caring. I don't care about him.
...Right?
Psst... no. It's just-weird seeing him like this. That's all.
Then he turns. Starts walking toward me. His steps slow but purposeful, his gaze locked on mine.
"How much?"
I blink. "For what?"
"The night."
The way he says it-it feels wrong.
I straighten, my fingers curling into fists. "Must you say it that way?" My voice is sharp, but I can't help it. His eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see it.
Sadness.
It's weird that I'm noticing it. Even weirder that I'm reacting to it.
"How much, Sophia?" He repeats, ignoring my words. No teasing. No nickname. Just my name. Plain. Unyielding.
And something inside me snaps.
I don't know why he's mad, and I sure as hell know it's not because of me. Maybe Logan's words got under his skin, maybe it's something else entirely, but that doesn't give him the right to talk to me like I'm nothing. Like I'm someone he can just toss money at.
No one talks to me that way.
"You know what..." I say, my jaw clenching. "Fuck you and your money."
His eyes shoot up in surprise, but I don't care.
"You heard me perfectly." I take step closer, my anger flaring like wildfire. "Screw your money, and don't ever talk to me like I'm some girl you paid to sleep with. You were the one who asked me to stay and help you out. I don't give a shit what's pissing you off, but you don't ever get to take it out on me. Got it, Gray?"
I stand there, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. My anger is thick, buzzing under my skin, but as I force myself to inhale, I see it-his expression shifting. The sharp edges of his rage dulling, something softer creeping in. Regret. Guilt.
His fists unclench. His shoulders drop. His lips part slightly, like he wants to take it back.
"Soph..." he says softly. Too softly.
And God, I hate that it sounds like that.
Like an apology. Like a plea.
"I'm sorr-"
"Don't care." The words are out before he can finish.
I take a step back, my pulse still hammering. I refuse to let that look in his eyes do anything to me. I refuse to let the guilt he suddenly seems to be drowning in matter. Because I'm still fucking pissed.
I turn on my heel, march straight to my room, and throw a glare over my shoulder. The regret in his eyes deepens.
Good.
I slam the door in his face.
I stand there, back pressed against the door, my breaths sharp and uneven. My hands are shaking. I don't know if it's from anger or something else, something I don't want to name.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image of his face-his regret-burns behind my eyelids. Damn him. Damn the way he looked at me, like he actually felt bad. Like he wanted to take it back.
But he said it. And I'm still pissed.
I push off the door, pacing my room, my mind racing. I shouldn't care. This isn't my problem. Theo can deal with his own shit. If he wants to act like a jackass, then fine. That's on him.
But the way he said my name... the way his voice softened like he wasn't just sorry, but really sorry-
I groan and throw myself onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow.
I hate him.
No.
I hate that I even care.
I need to get out of here. The apartment already feels suffocating, the air too thick, too heavy with everything that just happened.
Sitting here, stewing in my anger, isn't going to do anything but drive me insane. I need to clear my head.
I listen carefully, waiting. The moment I hear Theo's door open, then shut again, I exhale. Good. He's in his room. That gives me time.
A quick shower. Breakfast. Then I'm out. I'll hit the gym downstairs, get in a workout, and let him do whatever the hell he wants. I don't care. I just can't be here right now.
◇◇◇
"Thank you," I say, flashing a small smile at the older woman beside me as she presses the button for the gym floor.
She gives me a kind nod before stepping back, and I shift on my feet, inhaling deeply as the elevator descends.
Getting out was the right choice. I couldn't stay in that apartment with him. Not after that. Not with all that tension still hanging in the air.
And if Theo wants to be a brooding asshole, then fine. He can. But I'm not going to sit around and deal with it.
Not today.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step out, my grip tightening around the strap of my bag as I head toward the open gym.
It's already busy. People are scattered across the room, some lifting weights, others stretching or adjusting machines. The steady hum of treadmills and low conversations fills the air, and I feel a flicker of anxiety settle in my chest.
I exhale sharply. It's fine. This is still better than being in the apartment with Theo.
Adjusting the hem of my light purple gym bra, I glance around, tugging at the waistband of my matching leggings. I have no idea where to start. Most of these machines look like they require some kind of secret gym knowledge I definitely don't have.
I scan the room, looking for something easy.
Then I spot it-the treadmill.
That's what it's called. The running thing. It looks... less problematic than everything else in here. No complicated weights, no weird levers to pull. Just running. Or walking. I can do that.
I walk over, dropping my bag and water bottle beside it, and step onto the machine.
Okay. Now I just have to figure out how to turn it on.
I press a few buttons, frowning as nothing happens.
Great. This is off to a fantastic start.
As I press more random buttons, trying to figure out how to turn the damn thing on, a deep voice cuts through the noise around me.
"Excuse me."
I blink and turn my head just as a guy steps closer, reaching past me to press a button on the treadmill's panel. The machine hums to life, the belt starting at a slow, manageable pace.
"Oh," I mumble, quickly stepping in sync with it. "Thanks."
He doesn't say anything right away, and I take that as my cue to focus on walking. I press another button, testing the speed, and the treadmill picks up slightly. It's fine. Doable. My body relaxes a little as I settle into the rhythm.
But then I feel it.
The weight of his gaze.
I try to ignore it, keeping my eyes on the panel, but I can feel him watching me.
I glance sideways, and sure enough, he's on the treadmill next to mine.
I glance at him again, really looking at him this time. He's not bad-looking-average height, athletic build, with brown eyes that, under the gym's bright lights, almost look like a shade of light orange.
He's... alright.
"First time here?" he asks, breaking my train of thought.
"Yes," I reply shortly, hoping he'll take the hint and stop talking so I can focus. I didn't come here to make small talk-I came to burn off some of this anger before heading back to the apartment.
But of course, my body has other plans.
A dull ache starts to form in my lower waist, growing more noticeable with each step. I grit my teeth and keep moving, refusing to slow down.
Exercise is definitely not for me.
I press my lips together, determined not to let the discomfort show. The last thing I need is this guy noticing that I'm already struggling while he looks completely at ease.
"You live in the building?" he asks, still keeping pace beside me.
I exhale sharply, my patience thinning. Does he ever stop talking?
"Yeah," I answer, not offering more.
He hums in acknowledgment, but thankfully, he doesn't push for details. Instead, he focuses on his own treadmill, and I focus on mine-well, try to. The ache in my waist is getting worse, and now my legs are starting to feel it too.
This was a bad idea. I should've just stayed in bed and let Theo sulk in peace.
But no, I had to be dramatic, had to storm off and prove a point. Now, here I am, internally dying on a treadmill while some random guy won't stop asking me questions.
I take a deep breath, trying to push through it. Just a little longer. I'll do ten more minutes-okay, maybe five-and then I'll grab my stuff and head back.
I'm already regretting this entire morning when he speaks up again.
"You doing good?" His tone is casual, but when I glance at him, I catch the way his eyes drag slowly down my body, lingering in a way that makes my skin crawl.
I force my expression to stay neutral. "I'm fine."
His smirk stretches wider. "If the workout's too much for you, I can help with something more physical. Bet it'll be a lot better."
My eyes widen.
What. The. Fuck.
He then winks like he just said something charming, like I'm supposed to giggle and blush and fall all over myself.
Heat flares through me, but not the good kind. The raging kind. I'm two seconds away from slapping that smug look off his face when, suddenly, my treadmill stops.
I whip around, startled, and my stomach drops when I see who's standing there.
Theo.
And he looks furious.
But not at me.
His glare is dead locked onto him. The guy who just said that filthy shit to me. His eyes bloody red.
Oh, shit.
His entire body is tense, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He looks murderous. And if he does something reckless, it'll be trouble.
This is bad.
Really, really bad.
"What the fuck did you just say to her?" Theo's voice is dangerously low as he steps forward, eyes locked onto the guy like he's already imagining breaking his face. "Go on. Repeat the shit you just said. Huh?"
Theo was already on edge, his body vibrating with barely restrained fury. But when the guy stays silent, refusing to even look at him, something inside him snaps.
Without hesitation, he grabs the guy by the front of his tank top and yanks him forward.
A few people gasp. The sound of weights clanking and treadmills running suddenly seems distant compared to the tension crackling in the air.
"Theo!" I hiss, glancing around and seeing more people watching now. My heart pounds. "Let him go."
He doesn't even flinch, his fingers tightening around the guy's shirt.
"Get your fucking hands off me," the guy growls, trying to shove Theo off, but he might as well be pushing against a wall.
"Repeat the fucking word!" Theo shouts. "I fucking dare you."
I step forward and grab Theo's wrist, trying to pull him back, but it's like trying to move a damn boulder. "Theo, seriously, let go."
Nothing.
I grit my teeth and glare up at him. "Stop. Now. Someone could recognize you and put you in trouble."
That gets his attention.
His jaw ticks, his chest rising and falling heavily as his eyes meet mine. The rage is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but after a long moment, he exhales sharply and lets go.
The guy stumbles back, adjusting his shirt with a glare. "Fucking psycho," he mutters under his breath.
I ignore him, watching as Theo grabs my bag off the treadmill and hands it to me. I hesitate before taking it, surprised by the gesture.
We turn to leave, tension still thick in the air.
And then-
"Yeah, get out with your fat-ass girlfriend."
Oh.
Hell.
Broke.
Loose.
Theo doesn't even hesitate this time.
He spins back around so fast I don't even have time to react. One second, the guy is standing there looking smug, and the next, Theo's fist slams into his jaw with a sickening crack.
The entire gym goes silent.
I don't think. I just grab Theo's hand and pull.
He doesn't budge at first, his body still tense, fists still clenched. But then more people start turning, eyes locking onto the scene, and that's what makes him move.
I drag him toward the elevator, my pulse hammering in my ears. He lets me lead him, but his breathing is heavy, his whole body still radiating anger.
The second the doors slide shut behind us, trapping us in the small space, I turn on him.
"What the fuck, Theo?" My voice is sharp, filled with the heat still burning in my chest. "What was that?!"
Theo doesn't answer right away. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back in frustration. His jaw is still tight, his chest rising and falling with every deep, controlled breath.
And his eyes-God, his eyes-are beyond dark.
I should still be pissed-I am pissed-but as I glare up at him, my eyes flick to his face, his sharp jawline, the tension in his body, the way his hands are still clenched like he's barely holding himself back.
And fuck.
Why does he have to look so good like this?
I swallow hard, realizing too late that I'm staring. But I can't help it.
His eyes are dark, locked on mine, still simmering with anger, but there's something else too. Something hotter.
"He deserved it," Theo finally mutters, voice low and rough.
I scoff, shaking my head, needing to focus on the fact that he just punched a guy. "That's not the point, Theo! You can't just go around hitting people because they-"
"Because they disrespected you?" He steps closer, and my breath catches before I can stop it. "Because he thought he could say that shit and walk away?"
My back presses against the elevator wall.
I don't know when he got so close, but now he's right there.
And suddenly, it's not just frustration I'm feeling.
I exhale sharply, trying to ignore the way my body reacts to his closeness. Focus, I tell myself. Stay mad.
"If he disrespected me," I say, lifting my chin, "then what about you?"
Theo's brows pull together. "What?"
"You heard me." My voice is firm, but my pulse is anything but steady. "You literally talked to me like I was some prostitute earlier, Theo."
His jaw tightens. "That's not-"
I cut him off, stepping forward now, pushing against the anger still simmering inside me. "You started this. If you hadn't been an asshole to me this morning, I wouldn't have needed to get out of that damn apartment in the first place. So really, this? All of this? Your fault."
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair again. "Soph-"
"Don't," I cut him off, stepping back even though I'm already against the elevator wall. I need space. Need to breathe. "You don't get to say my name like that after everything."
His eyes darken. "Like what?"
"Like you actually care."
That makes something snap in him. He moves closer-too close-his hand pressing against the wall beside my head, caging me in.
"You think I don't care?" His voice is low, rough, sending a shiver down my spine. "You think I'd get this fucking pissed if I didn't?"
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. His body is heat and tension, his scent wrapping around me, and I hate how my pulse betrays me. How my skin tingles, how my breath hitches.
"You have a shitty way of showing it," I say, keeping my voice steady even as my heart pounds.
His jaw flexes, his other hand tightening into a fist like he's holding himself back. "I know." His voice is raw. "I fucking know."
For a second, neither of us move.
The air between us is thick, heavy, charged with something that isn't just anger anymore.
I don't know if I want to shove him away or-
The elevator dings. The doors slide open.
And just like that, the moment shatters.
As soon as I step out of the elevator, I walk as fast as I can, ignoring the heat still simmering in my body, the way my skin feels too tight, too sensitive. Every step I take only makes me more aware of the ache between my legs, the unbearable clench that refuses to go away.
Oh my god.
I was horny.
So fucking horny.
The realization slams into me like a brick, and I internally curse every cell in my body for reacting this way. It's just pent-up frustration. Just adrenaline. It has nothing to do with Theo or how he looked pressing me against the elevator wall, his voice low and rough in my ear-
Nope. Not thinking about that.
But then I hear him behind me.
Following me.
And my nipples tighten against my bra, making my stomach twist in panic.
Hell no. Please, body, stop reacting!!
I'm almost at the door when I notice a package sitting in front of the apartment. My name is on it.
Is it already here?
I pick it up just as Theo steps beside me, his voice way too close.
"What's that?"
I jolt, gripping the box tight. "Jesus, Theo, stop sneaking up on me!"
His brows raise. "It's my apartment too." His gaze flicks to the package. "Is that for you?"
"Yes!" I snap, fumbling with my keys as I unlock the door. The second I step inside, I make a beeline for my room, ignoring him completely.
"Sophia-"
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
I don't stop, don't even look at him, because if I do, my body might betray me all over again.
I lock my door the moment I'm inside, pressing my back against it as I catch my breath.
What the hell is going on with me?
My hands shake as I tear into the package, pulling out the letter first.
"You'll thank me later," it says in Blair's unmistakable handwriting, a lipstick kiss stamped on the bottom.
I groan, already knowing what's inside.
And I'm right.
The vibrator we bought last week sits in the box, but it's not the one I originally wanted.
It's the one Blair insisted on. The one she swore would make me see stars.
I hesitate, my heart pounding in my ears.
I bite my lip, staring at the device in my hand, my heart racing.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Not with Theo just steps away. Not with the heat still burning through my body from the elevator.
But I need this.
I exhale, dragging a hand down my face before tossing the letter aside and shifting on my bed. My body is tense, every nerve wired with anticipation as I power the vibrator on, the soft hum filling the quiet room.
Before I can second-guess myself, I pull it out, skim through the instructions, and set it on the bed.
My fingers fumble with my clothes, slipping them off one by one until I'm bare, skin prickling with anticipation.
I settle onto the mattress, vibrator in hand, biting my lip as I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the pillows.
The second it touches my insides, my breath hitches, and a shaky exhale escapes me. My body reacts instantly, a rush of pleasure curling low in my stomach, making my thighs tremble.
Oh, God.
I see stars.