Theo's POV
Knock... knock...
The sound hit sharp in my ears, dragging me out of sleep. My eyes snapped open, heavy and annoyed, squinting toward the door like it had personally offended me. I glanced at my watch,ten o'clock. At night.
I wanted to ignore it. God, I wanted to ignore it. But whoever was out there wasn't going anywhere, and I knew it. So, even though every part of me screamed don't engage, I shoved off the bed and trudged to the door.
And there he was. Elliot Crayson. Standing there with a fresh pair of pajamas in one hand and a maid behind him holding a tray of food.
"Hope I'm not disturbing you, Mr. Theo," he said, smiling like he'd just walked out of a toothpaste commercial. That kind of smile that's too perfect, too warm, like it's hiding something. Like it's not even his.
"If you knew you were disturbing me, why didn't you just leave me the hell alone?" I snapped. Harsh. Rude. I didn't care.
