“This is great, Teddy. I know how much rent is in London, so I’ve been worried about you finding something suitable.” She picks up the picture of us, studying it before placing it back on the small mantle. “I can’t believe that was five years ago.”
I cross the room to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the picture.
“I can’t believe how long my hair was.” I laugh.
As we stand there, I think it would be so easy to reach out and pull her against me. Even if it is just for a moment to feel her body mold against mine, but I learned a long time ago to shove those feelings deep down.
I would never make the first move, knowing I wouldn’t survive if Sophia pushed me away. However, what if she feels the same for me and neither one of us ever makes the first move?
Didn’t Tennyson say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved? Am I really so big of a coward that I’m not willing to experience loss by taking a chance on love? Stupid poetry class.
2
Sophia
Ican feel the heat from his body as he stands behind me, looking at the picture. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. He smells of forest and innocence.
I open my eyes, focusing back on the picture. When Teddy looks at it, he sees a girl who seemed to prefer the company of a kid rather than her own peers. What I see in it is a beautiful boy with long, dark hair, pale blue eyes and full lips begging to be kissed.
That was the summer I began to see Teddy as less of a boy and more of a man. At seventeen, he was just starting to grow into the man I see in front of me now.
I know that his brother, Grayson, and my sister, Izzy, would be appalled if they knew my feelings, but I can’t seem to forget him no matter how hard I try. When he touches me, it’s almost painful in the intensity that fires through my veins.
Just because our siblings fell in love first, doesn’t mean he doesn’t stir those feelings in me for him. Teddy abruptly turns away from me, heading toward the kitchen.
“I can put on some tea if you’re interested. I’ve gotten pretty good at making it in the last four years.”
I’ll grab at anything to spend even a few more minutes with him.
“So you can now make tea and cuss in a foreign country’s dialect? What other skills have you picked up in the last four years?” I watch the muscles tense in his back as he bends over the cooktop, trying to get it to light.
His back is to me so I can watch him unobserved. He rolls up his sleeves then takes a step to the small sink to fill the kettle. His arms ripple as he turns off the water. I dream at night of those arms wrapped around me as I sleep. He turns, raking his eyes over me.
“Obviously not manners. I’m sorry, please have a seat.”
I take a seat on the couch as he walks back over, joining me. He sits just close enough. I can reach out and touch his hair.
“When did you cut off your hair? It used to hang down over your eyes half the time.”
He reaches up, taking my hand, rubbing his hand absentmindedly over my palm.
“You have always had such soft hands.” His fingers caress each part of my hand, lingering as he draws circles on the inside of my wrist.
The kettle starts to whistle in the kitchen. I pull my hand away as Teddy gets up to get our tea. He’s made us chamomile, my favorite.
“You have become quite the gentleman living in England. This is delicious,” I say taking a sip.
He does a mock bow, making me laugh. “At your service, madam.”
We sit in silence, drinking our tea. Teddy watches me warily over the rim of his cup. I’m so close to becoming lost in those stormy blue eyes.
“I should probably go,” I say, standing suddenly. Setting my empty teacup on the table, I snatch my coat up from the couch. Teddy jumps to his feet, with a frown.
“Where?” He searches around for a moment until he finally eyes the kitchen table, setting his cup down.
“I have to work tomorrow. I need to head back to the hotel. Prepare my notes for the interview.” I take several steps toward the door, pulling on my coat.
“Wait,” Teddy says.
