Page 27 of Botched
I swallow, turning my eyes to look up at him. “You’re making me feel like a doll. Not a wrestler.”
“Youarea doll,” he says, a wicked smirk on his lips. Before I can lash out about how diminishing that feels, how misogynistic itis, he tacks on, “You’re also a wrestler. A badass one that has a match next week.”
I tilt my head. Instead of asking how he knows that, I find it’s better to assume that Theo knows way too much about everything. “Wow, you’re getting better at talking to women. You been studying?”
“Stayed up all night watching YouTube videos, baby doll. Just for you. ‘Course, then I started thinking about you, and my mind wandered. I ended up on another type of video site. Gotta admit, no redhead does it for me like you do.”
Well, nice things don’t stay nice forever, do they? The fact that I wrangled a little bit of kindness out of Theo today feels like a win. “Charming.”
“Thought so.” He winks at me, and I hate the way that my stomach flutters.
Theo’s music hits. The bass begins to shake the floor beneath our feet, causing the stairs to wobble. I shake on my heels a bit, gripping the handrailing a little tighter. His arm reaches out and circles around my waist.
“I wasn’t scared,” I mumble.
“Sure you weren’t. But I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers back to me, speaking into my hair. “Now, pretend you like me for a bit. Scratch that, pretend you worship me.”
There’s no chance for me to fire off a response. Theo leads us through the curtains, onto the stage. The boos are automatic. I’ve never been booed this hard before. There are thousands of people, and there’s something weirdly empowering about this. I evoked a feeling so strong in them. They hate me this much.
Theo’s arm stays around my waist as we walk down the ramp together. I stay tucked against his side, and I hate how much a littlepiece of me likes this. Maybe I’ve been putting my love life on the back burner for far too long. I’m touch starved if Theo is getting to me like this today. He climbs into the ring and doesn’t bother to hold the ropes open for me, impatiently gesturing for someone to hand him a microphone while I slide in alone.
That’s how we planned it. I’m more obsessed with him than he is with me. I walk over to him and drop to my knees, like I did at the PPV. And like before, his hand reaches out and cups my jaw, making me look up at him.
My stomach twists. More heat pools in my belly. I need to get laid. I need to go home and spend an hour with my vibrator becauseholy fuck, why is my mind suddenly hyper focused on Theo’s rough fingers touching me in other places?
Our eye contact lingers before Theo brings the microphone to his lips. His free hand remains on my jaw, gently caressing it as he addresses the crowd. “Everyone’s askingwhy, askinghow. ‘Oh Gosh, how did the big, bad Theo Abrams manipulate the sweet, wittle Aurora Dawn? He must’ve hypnotized her! I’m sure he’s blackmailing her!’” Theo mocks, pausing to laugh at himself as his fingers continue to trail over my skin. He stops and shakes his head. “It’s none of that, folks. It’s simple. Aurora’s on her knees in front of me because shewantsto be. She’s doing exactly what every woman in the audience wishes they could.”
Boos rain down on him as he makes that misogynistic, egotistical jab. I even feel the emotions pull at me. That’s not Theo acting. That’s how he thinks. He strokes my jaw one last time before his hand drops.
I miss his touch.
Yeah, absolutely. An hour with my vibrator when I get home.
“Tell ‘em, darlin’.”
He gestures for me to stand and I do. He hands me the microphone, and I push back all of my nerves. Public speaking still isn’t my favorite thing. If I could get by on wrestling and never talk, I’dbe the happiest girl in the world. That’s not how things work in this industry.
You can be the best wrestler in the world, but if your microphone skills suck, no one’s going to care. Wrestling is about making people feelsomething. Hope, rage, hatred, love, lust. It’s your job to entertain.
“I’ve heard it all week,” I say as I look out at the crowd, trying to paint a defiant look on my face and hoping that it works. “Everyone wants to know why. That’s what you’re all asking, right?Why?” Shaking my head, I laugh. “Because it was the right thing to do! I worked my ass off foryearsto get where I am. None of you noticed me. None of you gave a damn about who I was until a few weeks ago! Theo? He noticed memonthsbefore any of you ever did. Theo sees me. Why wouldn’t I be loyal to him?”
More boos. Boos are better than silence. I don’t realize I’m breathing heavy until I lower the microphone. Adrenaline rushes through me; my heart feels like it’s fighting to break out of my chest.
Theo’s hand slips underneath my chin, tilting my head to look up at him. He gazes down at me, his brown eyes looking golden underneath the lights that shine down on us. For a moment, I think that he’s going to kiss me. For a moment, I hate how much of me wants that. Instinctively, I take a small step toward him. I don’t know what’s happening. Our eyes are locked as we breathe each other in.
Then, Theo’s theme hits. The familiar bass rings out and pulls us from the trance.
His hand drops from my chin and he turns to exit the ring. Quickly, I scramble to follow him like a precious little puppy.
Chapter Twenty
THEODORE
All I can think about is pushing Aurora against the locker room wall and making her scream my name loudly enough for everyone to hear. I’ve been silent since we left the ring and it’s making her tense. She’s flitting around the room, full of nervous energy. Seeing her on edge is a cute.
She’s not a natural promo, but she’s been working on it. What she said tonight is probably the most comfortable she’s sounded on the mic. I wonder how much of it was real. Is that how she truly feels? Like Iseeher? Because I do. Fuck, she’s all I see these days.
I almost kissed her in the center of the ring. My cock aches when I think back on it. I almost had everything I’ve been wanting for weeks now. Her lips on mine, her gorgeous body under my control.