Teddy and that damn smooth-talking mouth of his, the heat of him threatening to pull me into his flames. The scent of the ocean clung to him like some kind of spell. I wasn’t naïve; I knew a man’s scent was probably just the soap he used—if he was even the type to shower regularly. Even so, every time he got close, I couldn’t help but picture him on a beach, the sea sparkling behind him, a breeze lifting his hair from his forehead.
I tried to focus on the latest Christina Lauren book I’d borrowed from Libby, but the words danced across the screen in a blur. My head throbbed. I tapped the screen, checking the time, only to realize how late it had gotten.
The quiet from the living room told me it was safe to get up. I pushed away from the kitchen table and flicked off the light. Stepping around the couch, I grabbed the book that had fallen on the floor and placed it on the table, my gaze naturally falling on Teddy.
He’d passed out, half-sitting, half-slouched, one hand splayed on his chest, and Guardian curled at his feet, also fast asleep. Teddy’s head lolled against the cushion, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. His bottom lip had that soft, swollen look, like he’d been biting it all night. Not that I’d know—I’d been avoiding him. The only reason I was still here was becauseSydney didn’t want him alone right now. She’d be back in the morning, and I could finally return to my solitary time off from the team.
I wasn’t sure this was what Griff had meant when he told me I needed to grieve my relationship and get my head on straight. Right now, my head was a tangled mess.
One of Teddy’s eyes cracked open slowly, wincing against the harsh light overhead. His gaze swept over me, calculating, assessing.
“You’re still here.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Against my better judgment, yes.” I gestured to the stairs, unwilling to hide my frustration. “I’ll help you up to bed.” I’d planned to crash in one of the other guys’ rooms, but I added, “Then, I can leave. Sydney will be back in the morning.”
He closed his eye again, a groan escaping his lips. “I’m fine here. Sleeping now.”
There was something about the thick, drowsy rumble of his voice—kind of adorable. No, more than kind of. Almost petulant, like a child.
“No,” I said firmly.
This time, both of Teddy's eyes flickered open. "No?"
"You heard me." I crossed my arms, standing firm. "You're a professional athlete, Valentine. Treat your body like it. That means sleeping in a bed."
He grinned a lazy, teasing smile. "God, I love it when you're bossy."
I rolled my eyes, the irritation clear. "And I love it when you actually listen to me. Stand up. Right. Fucking. Now."
He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before, as if to prove a point, he slowly pushed himself up. There was a faint wince when his knee took weight, but he hid it well.I offered my shoulder to steady him, but he shook his head and limped toward the stairs, masking it with practiced ease.
Before I left, I needed to talk to him. Scooping up Guardian, I felt his warmth nuzzle into me, and I smiled. There was a crate right inside Teddy's room, and Guardian hopped in with ease. Teddy covered him with a blanket then reached his finger through the bars to scratch his head.
"Night, sweet pea," he murmured.
I stood in the doorway, unsure of my place here. Teddy didn’t even glance back as he moved toward the bed. "Coach, in or out?"
Guess I was in.
He yanked his shirt off without hesitation, revealing muscle and strength that stretched up his arms, over his broad shoulders. His chest was smooth, with only a hint of hair—my mind couldn't help but imagine how it felt. Velvet, no doubt.
To my dismay—and inexplicable delight—he didn’t bother with another shirt. He just sat on the edge of the bed, sliding his pants down his legs. He did it without help, and my wide eyes narrowed.
"You lied," I said quietly.
He shrugged, his lips curling into a cocky smile. "I knew you wanted to touch me. Just gave you an excuse."
I inhaled sharply, my temper flaring. "Oh, really? I was the one who wanted… whatever the hell happened? Me?" My voice rose with each word, the anger building.
He just shrugged again, a nonchalant gesture, and that was the last straw. I moved forward, pressing a hand onto his shoulder. "If you shrug one more time, I'm going to drive an ice pick into your shoulder to keep it in place."
He blinked at me, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Then, he coughed, laughing softly. "That was…" He shook his head with a grin. "Please, marry me."
I wasn’t laughing. "I mean it, Valentine." Tension cracked in my voice. "Do not act like we didn’t cross a line. Like none of it matters. Because it does."
"You can't just go around kissing people who don't want to be kissed by you. It was inappropriate and the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen you do."
“I didn’t,” he said, his expression unreadable—just blank confusion. His eyes searched mine, the question lingering there, while his lips, soft and pink, stayed sealed.
