We’ve kept up a steady, easy conversation all afternoon, but as we stand in the vestibule at the back of the church, putting on our hats and gloves, we’re both suddenly quiet.
Sawyer gives me a shy smile. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”
“What’s that?” I ask as I wrap my scarf around my neck.
“I don’t actually like coffee. I’m mostly in this for the cocoa.”
I laugh. “Fair enough.”
When we’re ready, he pushes open the door and we both wince at the blast of freezing air. It’s dark now, the streetlights making the snow sparkle, and the concrete steps are icy. I’m so busy trying not to slip that it takes me a moment to notice that someone is standing a few feet away in the shadows. It isn’t until Sawyer stops short beside me that I look up to see Teddy.
“Hey,” I say, my voice full of surprise. “What are you doing here?”
It looks like he’s been out in the cold for a while; his hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, and his face is pale beneath his hat, and I can see that he’s shivering. His eyes move from me to Sawyer and back again.
“I wanted to see if you were free for dinner,” he says, and my first instinct is to look around for Leo. But then I realize he means just the two of us, and my heart does a little flip-flop.
Before I can say anything, Sawyer steps down off the stairs, his hand outstretched. “Hey,” he says. “I’m Sawyer.”
Teddy accepts his handshake in an overly serious manner. “Teddy,” he says. “You work here too?”
“Well, it turns out the position is unpaid,” Sawyer jokes. “But yeah, I volunteer sometimes.”
Teddy raises his eyebrows. “Like, serving soup?”
“Sure,” Sawyer says, looking less certain now. “I mean, all sorts of things, really. We do bag lunches for the kids, and have support groups, and collect donations of toiletries and—”
“He knows,” I say, giving Teddy a pointed look. “I’ve told him a million times.”
Teddy ignores this. “So,” he says to me, raising his eyebrows. “Dinner?”
I hesitate, looking from one to the other.
“If you guys need to…,” Sawyer says. “I mean, we can do this another time.”
“Do what?” Teddy asks with a look so dark it makes me want to laugh; this act he’s putting on right now—this vaguely menacing, swaggering guy in a back alley—is such a far cry from the real Teddy it’s almost comical.
But I also realize what it means: that he must be jealous. And the shock of that, the mere idea of it, is enough to send a thrill through me.
“Just coffee,” Sawyer says quickly. “But we don’t need to—”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, then turn back to Teddy. “Can we just get dinner tomorrow instead?”
His face shifts, and he gives me a pleading look. “C’mon, Al. I had a whole thing planned…,” he says, then trails off. “Please?”
“It’s fine,” Sawyer says, stepping away. “Really. I’ll take a rain check. Next time we’re both here, we’ll grab that coffee, okay?”
“Cocoa,” I remind him, and he smiles.
“Cocoa.”
He waves one last time and I watch as he walks away, a thin figure disappearing into the darkness. Once he’s gone, I turn to face Teddy.
“You didn’t have to be a jerk about it,” I say, raising an eyebrow, and he holds up both hands in defense, surprised.
“I wasn’t. It’s just…I had this whole big plan for tonight, and I didn’t expect—”
“What plan?” I ask, and he offers his arm with a grin.
