“Um…” Suddenly my mind goes blank. A cocktail? Like…a mixed drink?
I can only think of one, and it’s slightly worse than Teddy saying a word that starts with “cock”.
“It’s…Sex on the Beach.” I put my shoulders back.
He leans back, tilting his head at me. His eyes, holding just a hint of mischief, look me up and down. “Wot’s your favorite part o’ the drink? The caramel drizzle?”
My head moves before my mind catchesup. “Yup.”
“Dove.” That smirk is back.
I flutter my lashes. “Yes, Theodore?”
His brows furrow. “Teddy.”
“No, I’m Wren.” I put my hand on his chest, trying not to think about how firm it is under his suit. “You’reTeddy.”
He chuckles, grabbing my hand and holding it face up. “You’re Dove. I’m Teddy. And there’s no caramel drizzle in a Sex on the Beach.”
Fuck.
Of course. I can’t even pretend to have experience drinking. He probably thinks I’m some kind of idiot now.
Face flaming, I try to pull my hand back, but he catches it.
“I know you don’ know much ’bout me, Dove,” Teddy says, his voice gentle, “but you never ‘ave to lie to me. You are who you are, and nobody has any right to judge that.”
My eyes are fixed on where his hand holds mine. “What if…” I huff a breath, knowing I’m going to sound so stupid in just a second. “What if you’renotwho you are? I mean…what if who you are isn’t who you’re supposed to be? Like…what if people…what if people are keeping you from being…yourself?”
When I look into Teddy’s eyes, his electric blues are fixed on me. Nose ring, neck tattoos…Teddy is clearly someone who knows a thing or two about being himself.
His tone doesn’t match the softness of his features. “Fuck ‘em.”
A shocked laugh leaves me. “What?”
“Fuck ‘em.” He shrugs. “Don’t let ‘em clip your wings, Dove. You deserve to be flyin’ ‘igh, above all this bullshite.”
“You don’t know me.” I shake my head, moving to stand. It’s a little difficult with my dress in the way, but I manage. “You don’t know my parents. I’m not…” I sigh, my hands falling to my sides lamely, “I’m notallowed. You say don’tlet them clip my wings, but I don’t think you realize just how literal it is. I’m under watch twenty-four seven. I’m not allowed to go out except with a chaperone, or drink anything besides wine with dinner.” I’m probably going to go without food the rest of the weekend for disappearing like this. I don’t mention that part to Teddy though, because the last thing I want is his pity.
Something like anger screws up Teddy’s expression as he stands, brushing off his pants. It quickly disappears, a look of determination taking over. “Well then, I s’pose we’ll hafta change that.”
I scoff. “If it were that easy, I would have done it a long time ago.”
His charming grin is back. “You ‘aven’t had my ‘elp yet, Dove.”
Crossing my arms, I look up at him. “What canyoudo?”
“Nah, Dove. It’s not ‘bout wot I can do, but wotwecan do. Tell me. If you wasn’t a full time mafia-princess-captive, wot would you be doing with your life?”
My bottom lip tugs under my top teeth as I consider it.
“I can paint.” My voice is quiet. Unsure. I’m not supposed to talk about my painting.
“Can you pretend to be interested in knot-’eaded alphas long enough to break out of your tower?”
I frown. “How long will that be?”
He grins. “Guess that depends on how good your pain’ings are.”
