Page 25 of Pick One
“Well.” Teagan cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. “I really could have gotten home on my own, but thanks for the assist. I think I’ll go to bed early. But if you leave now, Goodman might still be up.”
“Huh?” I lifted my gaze from my focused non-contemplation of Teagan’s nipples. “Who?”
Teagan rolled his eyes impatiently. “Gage, then. The guy you were dancing with.”
“Oh.” I shook my head and managed to say, “No, I… I’m staying in. With you.”
“Suit yourself.” He uncrossed his arms and went to slide past me, toward his room. “G’night.”
“No, wait!” I blurted. “Are you… is your hand okay? Did you hurt it when you fell?” I reached for his wrist, but he snatched his arm behind him.
“It’s fine. It hardly stings anymore.”
“Good. That’s… good. Did you, um… did you want to talk about anything? Anyone?” I gritted my teeth, determined to be supportive if it killed me. “Like the guy you went out with last night? I caught his texts to you when I was shutting off your alarm earlier. He seems very… passionate.”
“Yeah, right.” Teagan huffed out a half laugh. “No, I don’t want to talk about him.”
“T, please. Are you mad at me for leaving earlier? I was being selfish, and I’m sorry—”
“I’m not angry,” he said bleakly.
“Thentalkto me!” I demanded. “Yell at me. Sing Sondheim at me. Recite haikus. Make today a holiday so you can refuse to celebrate it. Pour all your emotions into baking a pavlova, like you did that one time, and then drop it out the window. Give me one of your Teaganisms, like you usually do when you’re feeling sad. ‘I may never feel joy again, John!’ Or ‘Why are mortals born only to suffer?’ That one’s a classic. Anything, Teagan. Doanything—”
“Jesus Christ, John!” He clapped a hand to his head to hold his hair towel in place, blushing furiously. “You make me sound deranged. I’m trying to deal with this situation rationally and not be as fuckingextraas I usually am. I’m trying to be normal for once.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” I yelled back. “You’re not normal, you’reTeagan.”
“Thank you! Delightful. It’s good to know what you really think of me.” He sniffled. “Jerk.”
What?
“T, that’s not what I—”
“You want to know what’s wrong with me?” He threw back his slim shoulders and his lovely eyes filled with tears. “I’m broken,” he said, as serious and sorrowful as I’d ever heard him. He swiped at his nose. “And I don’t know how to fix me.”
He looked so small and sad that my stomach plummeted and I reached for him with both hands, heedless of all the reasons why that was a terrible idea. I drew his damp form against my chest and held him there, where he belonged.
“Teagan, babe. What happened tonight?” I ran my hands up and down his back and tried not to enjoy the feel of him in my arms, his lithe body pressed against my larger frame… but I couldn’t help the way my stomach swooped and settled into a feeling of rightness.
Teagan shook his head against my chest, which loosened the towel around his head. Fragrant, damp strands of his hair fell down to his shoulders, and I sucked in a greedy lungful of clean, warm Teagan before I thought twice.
Enough.Jesus. Some best friend you’re being. Control yourself.
I was not going to have sex with my…
“I had a decent date last night, John,” Teagan murmured against my shirt. “He was a little boring, but really okay. The last guy I dated, in September? Same thing. Guy at the coffee shop who keeps giving me his phone number? Same.”
“Oh-kay? Did… did they say or do something, T?” I whispered. “Did they disappoint you somehow?”
“No.” I felt the huff of Teagan’s laugh, but then he sniffled once again. “That’s the problem. I’m not disappointed.”
I blinked. “I… I don’t follow.”
“It used to be that I could catch feelings for a guy at the drop of a hat. I could look at someone and say, ‘Yes, I see the potential here.’ Fern used to despair of me because I sometimes saw potential that wasn’teventhere, like with Martin. But now?” He waved a hand up and down himself. “Look at me. The Potential Fairy doesn’t visit this desolate landscape anymore. I am a ruined shell, unable to sense romantic possibilities with any man who happens to show interest in me. John is a decent guy. All of them were. But I don’t want any of them. I’mbroken.”
I grabbed his shoulders hard—too hard—and had to force myself to loosen my grip. “That’s not true. Look, I don’t entirely get what’s going on here, but—”
“I’m telling you, I’m—”
