Page 15 of True Blue

My heart stutters. This isn't the first time we've touched. Not the second or third either.

In fact, for the last seven not-dates, we've parted at my car with a hug that’s grown longer and longer each time. The last time was twenty-seven seconds long.

I've been counting. Mostly to distract myself from the fact that he smells so good, and his large body practically swallows mine, and he's so warm.

Women I’ve dated loved my height, while some men did not. Wearing heels turned it into a whole thing about emasculation and insecurity.

But Teddy seems to really like how tall I am.

It's nice.

Through our not-dates, I’ve learned a lot about Teddy’s personality. He’s kind, extremely easy-going, incredibly funny, and respectful, and really good at making me forget how to perform ‘normal’ because I don’t feel the need to mask around him.

I can just be.

I've also learned through observation that Teddy is a little clumsy. Though I suspect he just channels all his dexterity into his art, leaving nothing for everyday life.

As he reaches toward me, he misjudges where his lemonade is on the table and tips over the cup. The plastic top and straw keep it from spilling too much, but it still sends a bunch across the table... and into my lap.

I gasp at the sudden cold, and his eyes are wide for a long moment, both of us in shock, before he moves.

"Oh, shit—" Teddy says, quickly grabbing napkins, and instead of cleaning the table, he comes over to kneel next to my chair and dabs my scrubs.

I want to tell him that scrubs are meant for messes, that he doesn't need to bother, but I don't. Because the care he's showing is making my throat feel tight and my stomach feel funny. He's not trying to cop a feel or be creepy; there's such genuine concern in his eyes as he gently dabs the napkin on my pants.

And of course, I want to ease the worry on his face, so I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind.

"If you were a bird, you'd be an Albatross."

Teddy stops cleaning up the spill and blinks at me blankly. I realize my attempt at a joke, once again, has fallen completely flat. So, of course, I decide to make it worse and stumble through an explanation.

"I mean—just because—they have the largest wingspan of any bird," I say quickly. "In fact, the wandering Albatross has a wingspan of 3.5 meters, which is the record for the longest wingspan of any living bird. It's about—er, I think that's about 11—11 and a half feet. Some even get up to 12 feet... I think..."

I trail off. That was usually the time when people would stop listening to me, sharing exasperated looks with each other that they thought I didn't catch. Or when I did that to my exes, they would just initiate sex to shut me up. They thought I didn't notice that either.

But Teddy isn't looking at me like that.

No, he's looking at me with a grin and awe-filled eyes.

"How did you learn that?"

"Uh, I think I read it somewhere," I mutter, shrugging. My face feels hot, and I reach for my drink, taking a sip to clear my throat. "Sometimes a question will pop up in my brain like... what are the American Bald Eagle's nesting habits, and then that makes me question when eaglets leave the nest⁠—"

"Eaglets?" Teddy questions with a chuckle.

"That's what baby eagles are called," I beam, feeling that general excitement rising inside of me when I talk about something I know. "But then that makes me wonder how big they are when they do leave, and then I wonder how big an eagle actually is. Then that will have me looking up wingspans and comparing them to other birds, and then I learned about Albatross, and—why are you smiling at me like that?"

"I just..." he shakes his head, eyes a little glazed. "I really like how your brain works."

"Oh. Thanks," I shrug, shifting in my seat. "Most find it kind of annoying."

"Not me," he says, his voice firm.

"Yeah," I tilt my head. "Why not you?"

He shrugs. "I like everything about you, Indie."

"You don't know everything yet," I shake my head, though there's a smile on my face. "I could name a few dozen things that you probably wouldn't like."