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Either he fully believed my publicity stunt explanation last night or he doesn’t care enough to mind a good-looking guy is interested in me. I find myself hoping it’s the former.
I know there’s plenty of lust and attraction lingering between us. Familiarity that’s filled with vestiges of the past. I don’t know how anything else translates to the present. Whether he cares. It’s part of a series of second-guessing that started when I woke up alone and strengthened during the encore I just performed.
Kyle nods at Teddy before heading down the hallway. The occasional crew member scurries by, but we’re mostly alone.
I lean against the doorway and cross my arms, mirroring his casual pose. Teddy’s gaze drops, coasting over my tight tank top. Down my legs to rest on my bare feet.
He climbs his way back to my face before speaking. “Want to get out of here?”
“Where were you this morning?”
“I went for a run. Then rehearsal.”
“You couldn’t text? Leave a note?”
“For my boss? Or for the girl I’ve been in love with since I was seventeen?”
I wait for the realization. The backtracking. TheI didn’t mean it like that.
Only it doesn’t come. He just keeps his arms crossed and those words hanging between us.
“Since you were seventeen, huh?”
Teddy doesn’t flinch. “Some things don’t change.”
“I thought you were talking about spiking punch at prom.”
“They serve juice boxes now.”
“They should have started doing that a long time ago.”
“Probably,” Teddy agrees. He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. But I want to follow wherever the boyish grin he’s wearing leads. “So…what do you say?”
“You have something planned?”
The grin grows as he shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“I didn’t know—think—this would happen when you came on tour.” I guess it goes without saying, seeing as up until last night, I thought he was in a semi-serious relationship, but it seems like a necessary statement to say.
“You thought it would feel different.” The words are matter-of-fact.
It’s not a question to respond to, yet I do anyway. “Yeah, I did. Up until I saw you outside Dave’s Grocery, at least.”
“And you think this is novelty still?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Maybe,” I lie.
Teddy nods, having expected that answer. “Let’s test that theory then.”
“You mean…”
He nods again, and my stomach decides to embark on an acrobatic routine in response.
“The Europe tour leg is only five more weeks,” I remind him. “Devon will be back for the rest of the US dates. You’ll be back in Brookfield.”
“This is temporary. I get it, Sutton.”
I drop my arms to fidget with the hem of my tank top. Mentally tabulating all the reasons this is a terrible idea. Fighting against the all-consuming desire for what is being offered, dangling right in front of me.
