“Walking down the stairs, really, Valentine?” I snatched the Perrier and shoved it at him. “Drink.”
“You aren’t the boss of me,” he muttered, reluctantly taking the bottle and twisting off the cap.
He was such a child. “Yes, I am. Don’t speak again until you’ve finished that bottle.”
I knew how I sounded—harsh—but every time I saw Teddy, I got this overwhelming urge to rip his head off. And then, the bitch in me just… came out.
He sipped the sparkling water, wincing at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. “Why is it so bright?”
“That’s called sunshine, genius.” I walked into the kitchen for something to drink. He’d asked for sugary, but his body was a finely tuned machine that needed to recover in order to perform at the level expected of him. So, instead of junk—though, I couldn’t find any in this kitchen—I brought him a banana.
He eyed it suspiciously. “What is that?”
“Fruit. It’s good for you. And bonus… fruit has that sugar you wanted.”
“Damn, you sound like Rowan.” But he snatched the banana and started peeling it. “So, Sydney called you of all people?”
I rolled my eyes, not at all offended. He was right. Me being here was weird, a product of our circumstances. “You needed a babysitter, and I was available.”
He grunted in response. “That family emergency not taking up your time?”
“What?”
“The reason you’re not on the road trip…”
“Oh.” I looked away, feeling the heat creep into my face. “Right. I, um… That’s none of your business.”
“Figures.” He tossed the banana peel onto the table. “That was wholly unsatisfying.”
There was something different in the way he looked at me today. Something darker. It was like last night hadn’t been a one-off but had changed how he interacted with me. He’d always fought with me before, but there was a layer of charm behind it—the smirk, the wink. Now… nothing. Just blankness where there used to be that playful joy.
I didn’t like it.
“How are you feeling?” I perched on the edge of the couch, twisting the cap off my drink before tossing it onto the table.
“Like I got run over by a truck. And then, it backed up to finish the job.”
“Concussions are tricky. How’s the knee?”
“As fucked as ever.” Teddy had hurt the same knee three times over the past two years, requiring surgery once. Each time he came back, I could see the subtle wince in his movements—the pain a little sharper, a little more persistent.
One day, I worried he’d take a hit that wouldn’t just end his hockey career but ruin his ability to walk without pain.
“Can I take a look at it?” It wasn’t unusual for me to wrap injuries or check pain levels. This was the AHL. We didn’t have a full medical team, so when our lone doctor and two trainers weren’t around, we made do. It helped that I’d majored in sports medicine in college.
He stared at me for a beat. Two. “I’m seeing the doc on Monday.”
“That’s two days from now. Griff will want to know how it’s healing. I know what I’m doing, Teddy.”
Saying his first name seemed to snap him out of whatever haze he was in. An adorable blush rose on his cheeks, and I glanced away, trying to shake the feeling it stirred in me. “You probably need the wrap changed anyway. But for me to do that, you need to take off your pants.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, slowly, agonizingly so, he nodded. “I’m going to need some help.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TEDDY
I grew up knowing two things. One, I was damn good at hockey, no question. And two, people like me. It was one of those things I felt deep in my bones—how to make them laugh, how to say just the right thing that made them feel like I was someone they wanted around. It came naturally.
