Page 42 of True Blue

The closer the vacation gets, the more excited I am.

And then finally, the fixer-upper we toured on a whim in Cape May for my interview last month. Teddy and I walked through the house, and he described all the ways he could make it our dream home while preserving its original, historic bones.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Indie,” Ellie leans forward, holding heavy eye contact. “And do not make yourself smaller to fit in here.”

8

INDIE

NOVEMBER

Teddy and I linger around after dinner, so he can watch the football game with his father.

The aunts, uncles, and cousins have already left. Dawn is in the kitchen, wearing rubber gloves, deep cleaning the entire room from top to bottom. Stephanie is napping in the sitting room, and I’m helping Ellie up the stairs to her bedroom.

She was coughing a little more, but brushed off any offers of medicine, just told me she wanted rest. She didn’t even say much as I eased her down to the bed, pulled her slippers off, and took the pins out of her hair. She just kept smiling at me, and then she was out before I even pulled the covers over her.

“Sweet dreams, Ellie,” I whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Movement from the doorway catches my attention, and I briefly worry that it’s Dawn.

No, just Teddy, gazing at me with pure love in his eyes. I hold my finger up to my mouth but return his smile, flicking off the lamp before tiptoeing out of the room.

Teddy takes my hand and guides me down the hallway toward his childhood bedroom. I glance over my shoulder, feeling like we’ll be scolded if we’re found out.

Snickering, he pulls me into his room and clicks the door shut as I look around the room. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it—I got a quick peek last year when Teddy gave me the house tour—but it’s the first time I’ve been inside.

Teddy said his mom kept it exactly the same since he moved out for college—blue walls and a blue bedspread. Posters of the Chicago Bears and Cubs players on the walls.

I turn around and go still when I see Teddy right behind me, a soft smile on his face.

He leans in, and I lift my chin to meet him halfway. His lips are so soft, and he tastes like gluten-free apple pie—he won’t even kiss me if he’s eaten something with gluten in it. Always so careful with me.

“Hi, honey,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Hey, Teddy bear,” I reply, my voice husky.

His grin widens, but his eyes burn as he cradles my face and kisses me. Hard and deep, his tongue tangling with mine. I nibble his lips in that way that makes him growl, smiling when I hear it rumbling from his chest.

My Teddy bear.

Corny, I know. But he loves it.

The first time I called him that, we were out at a bar with his friends for my birthday. I was half drunk on lemon drops and feeling that veil of social anxiety melt away.

He had just finished singing karaoke–a wonderful rendition of Sex on Fire, keeping eye contact with me the entire time. Even featuring hip thrusting dance moves that had me laughing hysterically and suddenly very horny.

His friends Heath and Luke, there with their own dates, catcalled us all the way to the bathroom—private, thankfully—where Teddy locked the door, flipped my dress up, and ate me out right there.

Wild.

Messy.

Crazy.

Wonderful.

“I’ve never had a girl in my room before,” Teddy's eyes drag up and down my body, before landing on my face, where they linger.