Page 28 of Holiday Love
I can hear his unspoken message, what he’s really saying.
You can talk to me.
He’s been saying it all day. Not just with words, but with every small, quiet gesture. Like when he saw me shiver he brought me a blanket, or when he found out I like extra cheese on my pizza and insisted we order it that way even though he’s not a big cheese fan.
You can talk to me.
I can’t, though. That’s what he doesn’t realize. I’m not good at talking to other people. Not in social settings like this and especially not when the topic is about something important to me, my work. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him. I just don’t know how.
I can understand his confusion. The Helen he met a year ago talked and laughed and danced like she wasn’t the product of an overburdened, overanalyzing mind. The combination of Gwen’s wedding, a little too much wine, and the magic in the air had unlocked a little-used portion of my brain that night. It was a fluke. He slept with someone who never existed, and now he expects me to act like her.
I’m bound to disappoint him.
“I’m fine,” I say, rubbing the blanket between my fingers, taking comfort from its softness.
Teddy rolls his shoulders next to me, readjusting his position. The movement draws my eyes back to his chest, which is evenmore defined than it was a year ago. He must have increased his work-out sessions. Add in the tattoos and the nipple ring, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill me with his hotness. I’ve had to remind myself multiple times that the way my breath catches and my thighs clench with his every exhalation is merely physiologic, the consequence of pheromones triggering neurotransmitter cascades in my brain.
Yes. That’s all it is.
I can’t help it that the human body is hardwired to procreate and that’s why I had to touch his arm not once, but twice, today. All under the false pretense of getting his attention.
Weak. I’m so weak.
Teddy glances at his phone, which lies on the couch next to his hand, opposite from me. It’s vibrating, something that’s happened a lot. He’s kept it on silent, but I can still hear it buzz.
“Do you need to get that?” I ask, ignoring the spike of jealousy that makes me grind my teeth.
“Nah.” He toggles a button on the side, and the noise stops.
I want very badly to ask who is calling but remind myself it’s none of my business. A week ago, we weren’t even talking to each other. Teddy has a life, one that’s far beyond anything I could construct for myself. A life full of friends and…women.Lotsof women, at least that’s what Gwen once told me, an off-handed comment that made me wish she knew about Teddy and me so that she would filter out information like that. I didn’t need, didn’t want, to know about his love life. It was too painful.
Thinking about those women and about how I can’t go back to work for months eventually gets to me. My chest aches. I have an overwhelming sensation of claustrophobia. A feeling like there’s not enough air in the room, not enough space. I can’t breathe.
I shoot to my feet, then sway, dizzy after having sat for so long. Tiny white spots float in my vision. I blinkthem away.
“I have to go,” I blurt out.
Teddy blinks, confused. “Go?” He looks around like he should be able to see what triggered this sudden change.
“Yes.” My mind searches for an excuse, something to put some distance between us. I’m not used to this much human interaction, to spending an entire day with someone.
It comes to me. I have a reason to leave, arealreason.
It’s Thursday.
“I have a ballet lesson at six. The studio is a few blocks away. I better get ready.”
I hesitate, guilt tugging on my insides.
Teddy’s hurt. He almost died, and now I’m leaving him?
“Are you going to be okay? Here on your own?” I shift on my feet.
That grin of his, the lazy, cheek-lifting one, tells me he means it when he says he’ll be fine.
Still. Just to be sure, I grab his next dose of pain meds and put it on the end table along with a glass of water. “You’re due to take these in thirty minutes. Don’t be a tough-guy hero and wait longer than that. The point is toavoidpain, not wait until it gets so bad you have to take a double dose to get it back under control.”
Teddy gives me an overly dramatic salute with his hand to his forehead. “Got it, doc. Promise, I’ll follow orders.”
