Dammit, why did he have to be so charming?
“I should…. But hey, do you have your cell phone on you?” Finn asked as he stood.
“Yes.” Teddy pulled it from his pocket, confused, and Finn plucked it from his fingers. He entered a number.
“There, now you can call me if you ever….“
“Fall down and can’t get up?”
That dimpled grin was the kind Teddy could get lost in. “If that’s the only reason you can think of.”
Fuck, why was he flirting? Teddy went entirely blank for what to say, which prompted Finn to look away with a bashful glance at the floor, then back at Teddy far too attractively.
“See you later, Teddy.”
“Y-yeah. Thanks.”
Once Finn was out the door, Teddy fell back into the cushions with a groan. At least he had his book, because as much as he still had to pee, he wasn’t getting up from the sofa anytime soon.
He also had no idea what page he’d left off on.
The next morning, Teddy decided he would not call Finn unless there was an emergency. He didn’t need complications. He was terrible company anyway. He’d only end up alienating Finn, and he didn’t want his neighbor to hate him.
Besides, it wasn’t like they could do anything fun, not full-range types of fun, if that’s what Finn was interested in, until Teddy had undergone at least a few months of physical therapy. He could still attend to himself for the most part, though having that pretty face between his thighs wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Nope. Teddy wasn’t going to think about it. Fun aside, if Finn was looking for more, Teddy would be an even bigger disappointment, like he’d been with every other relationship in his life.
A cat wouldn’t judge him, at least. A cat would just be there to snuggle and keep him company while requiring minimal effort. He’d only need to feed it, give it water, and get one of thoseautomatic litter pans so he didn’t have to bend over to clean it. Easy.
His sister’s email about getting a pet was far too chipper, though. Erina wasn’tchipper. It meant she was trying too hard and assumed he was miserable. He was, but he couldn’t admit that. So, although he did click the link to the adoption agency, his response to her email was that he was only doing it so she would have someone to talk to when she visited.
The middle finger emoji she replied with was much more her style.
Teddy spent a good portion of the next few days on the website scouring for cats that were being boarded near him and had traits he could relate to. He didn’t want one that was best with multiple pets. He didn’t want a kitten. He didn’t want one too fluffy that would infest his home with hair and require constant brushing. Just a calm single-pet family adult cat.
Then he found him, and he was beautiful. Unique as a snowshoe breed, thick fur but not overly long like a Persian, big blue eyes, three years old, as calm and docile as an old man. Perfect.
Except for his name—Smudge. Teddy would change that the second he got him.
Quickly selecting the cat and filling out the form before anyone else could snatch him, Teddy noticed that the boarder address was very similar to his own. It had to be someone on his same block; he’d just never figured out how the numbers lined up out here.
He paid the fees, set a time for delivery, and waited for a response.
This is great, Teddy! I’ll bring Smudge by this afternoon.
A little informal in Teddy’s mind—his personal information always said Edmund, after all—but what did he care. It wasn’t like he’d have to spend time with the boarder.
When the knock came hours later, he almost slammed his head against the front door after looking through the peephole.
“Finn?” he said, at first surprised—and then he saw the pet carrier.
Seriously?
“I am so glad you’re taking Smudge.” Finn glowed, looking even more striking in jeans and a maroon Henley than he had the day they met. “He’s a great sleeping buddy, just the sweetest. Even Nora adores him, but everyone always wants kittens.”
Why was this happening? Finn must think Teddy did this on purpose to see him again.
“Teddy?”
