Lovespoken (Theo James)

Chapter 5

A bump jostles me to life. I squint my eyes and let out a loud yawn. To my left there's a soft chuckle. Startled, I jump. That's when I remember Theo. Currently he sits in the drivers seat only inches away from me.

For some strange reason I feel an urge to reach out and touch him, make sure he's really there. To grab his hand and hold it with my own. I find myself staring. Unfortunately he notices.

"Is there something on my face?" he jokes.

My face flushes. "No, sorry." Quickly I avert my eyes.

"Admiring the view?" he asks.

At first I think he's talking about himself. But then I realize he's actually talking about the scenery. It's around eight o'clock, the sun beginning to set. The sky has morphed into a swirl of magnificent colors all centered upon the setting ball of light in the middle. In Chicago, it's impossible to find anything close to this when you look up at the sky. Instead it ranges strictly from blue morning sky to black nighttime sky. Those and those only.

Theo looks at me and smiles. "Nothing like that in Chicago huh?" he says.

"Not at all."

I can't remember the last time I saw a sunset.

"Good news is, as long as you stay in California, you'll see a lot of them," he quickly adds, "You are staying in California right?" His words sound almost urgent.

"Of course. Why do you ask?" My eyes find his. Instantly the yearning to touch him is back. I have to keep my hands folded in my lap in order to restrain myself.

Theo stares at me for a second longer than necessary before training his eyes back on the road without answering my question. I sigh and lean my head against the cool glass, eyes averted from Theo. Whenever I look at him I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. So I stay that way for a while.

However longer it is, Theo clears his throat from beside me. Turning my head, I look at him. "So tell me about yourself," he says.

I'm not one to indulge others on my life story. In fact, I'm not one who even lets people know anything about me. I keep to myself. That's how it's always been. So of course I don't know how to answer this question. Part of me wants to tell him everything, about Colin, about my parents, about my dream. Because for some reason I want him to do the same for me. Except the other half of me is too shy to mutter a sound. Overall, that's the side that wins.

"Cat got your tongue?" His voice sends shivers down my spine.

I cough. No sorry. I'm just, I'm not one who talks about myself," I admit sheepishly.

"Don't be embarrassed by that."

"Shouldn't I be embarrassed that I have nothing interesting to tell?"

"Not necessarily. That just means you have more exciting memories coming."

I smile at the thought. Yet, something in the back of my mind is telling me his words have an alternate meeting.

"Hopefully," I whisper.

"I have an idea," he begins, "How about we play the question game. We'll take turns asking questions and no matter what, you must answer truthfully.

I perk up, crossing my legs in my seat so I sit cross cross apple sauce. My shoes are kicked off on the floor already. I have the tendency to make myself comfortable. "Okay, but what happens if one of us lies and the other finds out?"

"Well, that's up for the other person to decide," he looks at me and winks. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.

"You first."

"Let's start with the basics. What is your favorite color?"

"Pink." I say. Easy. "Where are you from?"

"England. I was born in Oxford but I grew up in High Wycombe."

"So that accent isn't fake."

He smiles, astounded. "You really thought my accent was fake?"

I shrug, suppressing a smile.

"Wow, alright. I see how it is." He smiles though it's one out of disbelief. "How bout you, huh? Where are you from?" He questions defensively. His voice sounds like a child's.

"Chicago. Born and raised, lived there my whole life."

"Really? Why's that?" he asks, trying to get something juicy out of me I'm sure. Little does he know there isn't anything worth knowing that I am willing to share.

"Woah woah woah, you already had your question. Now it's my turn." He nods and gestures for me to ask away. "How many siblings do you have? You don't peg me as an only child." I try keeping the questions simple so he doesn't ask me anything too personal. Especially because we have to answer every question absolutely truthful.

"Two brothers and two sisters. Now back to my question, why did you stay in Chicago your whole life?"

"I had no where else to go," I say simply though sorrowfully.

"Why not?" He asks. I give him a look, indicating it's my turn. "Alright gooo ahead."

"Why did you move to America?"

This question seems to catch Theo off guard. He fights a smile before answering, "I needed a change of scenery," he says slowly.

"So you chose LA?" I ask.

"Ah, ah, ah my turn, remember," he says.

"Ok go."

"Why are you going to LA?"

"I'm moving there."

"Well yes but why?"

"The same reason every other person moves there. How about you?"

He doesn't answer me right away. But when he does he won't look at me, "I moved there because I thought it'd be cool to live in a place with so much opportunity," he quickly adds, "But not for the same reason as you."

"So you didn't and still don't have any intentions of becoming famous?" I ask raising an eyebrow. A man as attractive as Theo belongs on the screen.

"Not a bit. I like the calm life."

I open my mouth to ask another question when Theo pulls down a winding road and into a long gated driveway. My jaw drops to the floor. I have never seen a house so magnificent, so enormous.

"We're here."

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