I zipped it all the way to his chin, and he finally, reluctantly, pushed his arms through the sleeves. It was too big on him—the hem fell to the top of his thighs, and the cuffs covered his hands—but the sight soothed some caveman impulse inside me. An impulse I only ever felt around this one particular person.
I wrapped him back up inbothmy arms this time and savored the feeling while I could, the image of him dancing cheek-to-cheek with another man still throbbing in my brain.
Get used to it, I told myself.That’s gonna be your life.
After I’d dragged Teagan off the dance floor, I’d been mere seconds away from spilling my guts and telling him every one of my secrets—how much I loved him, how much Iwished he’d be mine, how I wanted to build a life with him in Vermont as so much more than his very platonic best friend—but then he’d stopped me in my tracks, literally and figuratively, with his pick-one question.
Would I rather have friendship or sex?
I wasn’t sure where that question had come from, but there was zero question which one I would pick, even if it meant my right hand was going to continue to get a workout until the end of time. Even if it meant I was gonna have to learn to watch him dancing with other guys without wanting to break things.
Teagan—having him whole and happy andin my life—was the most important thing.
It always would be.
“Four minutes until our driver arrives,” I told him after a glance at my phone. “When we get home, I’ll order us some dinner while you warm up in the shower, and we can…” I hesitated. I wanted to ask what had happened to his plans with Other-John, but I wasn’t sure whether that would upset him more. “We can watchKnightfallif you want.”
Teagan shrugged. “Don’t worry about me if you have other stuff to do,” he said dully. “I’ll be okay on my own.”
My arms tightened around him in concern.
Teagan didn’t dodull.
He was sometimes sad, and occasionally outraged, especially over injustices. He spoke with conviction about everything. His energy was inspiring and soothing at the same time. But right then, it was like the light inside him had gone out.
Had he been into that bossy, overbearing Knox guy? Had things not worked out with Other-John and their date for tonight? Was he pissed that I’d left the apartment earlier without hearing his news? Once again, I wanted to ask, but for the first time since we’d met, I couldn’t sense his mood, and Teagan wasn’t sharing.
I hated it.
He stayed quiet the whole ride home, and my worry increased with every minute. Was he more badly injured than he’d let on? Was he depressed? Had Other-John hurt him? Had Knox?
“I wish you really had me,” Teagan had whispered outside the bar, so softly the wind had chased the words away. The idea that Teagan felt like I wasn’t there for him, that there wasanythingI wouldn’t do for him, made my chest go tight.
“Sounds like Monica and Fern are playingHamilton,” I said as I unlocked our apartment door while someone across the hall sang a very off-key rendition of “Satisfied.” Seemed at least someone was enjoying Mischief and Margarita Night. “Did you want to go over there and be the third Schuyler sister?”
Teagan rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Not tonight.”
This was more serious than I’d thought.
I wanted to cuddle him against me and kiss the life back into his eyes. I wanted to protect him and fight back anything that might dare to steal his spark. But I wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with him at that moment, so I didn’t know how to make it better.
But I kept trying.
“Okay, here we go.” I opened our door and steered him inside. “Get in the bath. I’ll be back in twenty minutes with medicinal dessert, okay? Please don’t leave or… or… make any other plans in the meantime. Yeah?”
The real Teagan would have gone on a short-lived but very outraged rant about how “hehad not been the one who’d made a habit of walking out on people this night,John,” but this imposter-Teagan nodded meekly, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him with aclick.
Fuck.
It took me only fifteen minutes to jog to the expensivelittle bakery cafe two blocks over, beg them for their last cheesecake even though they’d just closed up for the night (“Please, Pauline? It’s for Teagan.”), make a quick stop at the liquor store on the corner for a bottle of Teagan’s favorite sweet wine, and jog back.
When I got home, Teagan was still in his bathroom. The apartment was dark, chilly, and silent, with no scent of bread or fall candles in the air. A blanket my mom had crocheted lay in a haphazard puddle on the floor by the sofa. Everything was dull and empty, just like my life before Teagan had been.
I put the food and wine in the refrigerator and knocked cautiously on the bathroom door. “T?”
He didn’t reply, so I knocked louder.
“Teagan? I got cheesecake from PJ’s.”
