Page 15 of Holiday Love
“You don’t even know how much it is.”
“It’ll be enough.” I put my hand out to him. “Look, Teddy, I promised your sister I’d help you, and that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t think either of us wants to call Gwen and tell her you’re out on the street. You know she’ll swoop in to save you with her movie-star husband in tow.”
He blanches at that, and I know I’m on the right track. “Stay with me, just until you’re back on your feet. A couple of months and they’ll take that cast off for good.Two months. That’s all you’ll have to spend at my place. After that, you can come back here or move anywhere you want.”
He still doesn’t take my hand. I keep it outstretched and inch closer. “Two months, Teddy. That’s all. I’m gone most of the time working, so it’ll almost be like you have the condo to yourself.”
I’m not sure what makes him accept, probably reassurance that he won’t have to spend much time with me, but whatever it is, Teddy reaches for me. He lifts his hand and grabs mine. With him pushing and me pulling, we get him onto his feet.
Before he gets back into my car, Teddy stops with one hand on the door, staring back at the house like he’sreallyseeing it for the first time. The dead lawn, more weeds than grass. The rust-stained door frame. The downstairs window with spiderwebs-like cracks spread across its surface.
Still, he hesitates, shifting on his crutches. Teddy turns to me, his expression uncertain, doubt flickering behind his eyes. “You’re sure?” he asks quietly. “You won’t regret this?”
Regret is an interesting word choice, like maybe he’s asking about more than just moving in—or maybe I’m overthinking as usual.
I meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile that’s only half fake. “I’m sure.”
I reach out to take hiscrutches so he can get in the car.
There’s a long moment when he stares at my offered hand, like he’s debating if it’s better to fall than to risk taking this step. His eyes flick between me and the house, his jaw working like he wants to say something. Instead, he exhales through his nose, tightens his grip on the door handle, and passes the crutches over.
Without a word, he folds his body into my backseat.
I drive us home, all the while telling myself this will be fine. It has to be fine.
Right?
Chapter eight
Teddy
“This might be a new low for me,” I tell the seagull, who’s perched on the edge of the balcony railing at Helen’s place. I’ve named him Sam.
Sam the Seagull.
“Which is saying something,” I continue, tearing off another piece of my bagel and tossing it to him. He catches it midair with a snap of his pointy beak. “Because I’ve had some pretty strong contenders.”
Sam tilts his head like he’s invested. That’s more than I can say for most people lately.
“Like when I dropped out of the University of Michigan because I got too homesick. Or the onetime I slept with my sister’s friend…the one I’m currently living with.” I pause to let the drama build. “Yeah, I know. What an idiot, huh?”
Sam blinks, unimpressed but attentive. He’s a surprisingly good listener.
I go to give him another piece but stop short. “Nah, you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off.” I pop the last bite into my mouth. Sam makes a disgruntled squawk and flaps off in a huff, his wings beating hard as he heads for the ocean.
When I first got here a few hours ago, Helen gave me the grand tour. The building had a gated underground garage and three stories. A sleek elevator took us to the top floor, where she lives. We walked through the front entryway, where Helen politely asked me to take off my shoes. House rule. No shoes. I made a mental note, promising myself not to forget. Then we went down a short hallway to the living room with its single couch and coffee table. Helen talked to me over her shoulder, describing each room as she showed me around. She flicked back long strands of glossy black hair, but one clung briefly to her cheek. I resisted the urge to brush it back, to reach out and touch her. Instead, I clomped along, drawing my crutches in so they wouldn’t bang against her unblemished white walls. That would be just my luck, to dirty everything up.
To the side of the living room, she pointed out a narrow kitchen with white cabinets and a stainless-steel refrigerator. “Help yourself to anything in there. I get groceries delivered every Tuesday.”
Down a short hallway were two bedrooms with a small bathroom between them. Helen’s was on the right, a large bed with a lavender-colored duvet. Twin white nightstands and simple shaded lamps. A pile of books and a glass of water sat on one side. My eyebrows rose when I saw the books were all romance novels, the spicy kind judging by the half-naked man on the cover.
Huh. Didn’t expect that.
Helen Chu, secret romance junkie?
Interesting…
Wouldn’t have guessed that would be her reading style. Then again, I didn’t expect her to hook up with me at Gwen’s wedding either. Maybe she has a thing for bad decisions.
