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“Let me get my stuff.” I leave him standing there and sweep the essentials off the counter and into a leather tote. I pull my hair up into a high ponytail and then grab my sunglasses.
Teddy cracks a smile as I slide them on. “We’re inside. At night.”
“A few hundred flashes are pretty fucking bright. The press will be camped outside.”
“Not the way we’re going.”
I raise both eyebrows. “I figured we were headed back to the hotel.” More like hoping, actually, after what we just agreed to.
“Not yet. You ready?”
“We could get mobbed,” I remind him.
“We didn’t last time,” he replies.
I roll my eyes, then realize he can’t see. The sunglasses get pulled off with a huff. “Aren’t you worried about being seen together?”
“Not particularly,” is his nonchalant response.
“It wouldn’t be some offhand mention, Teddy.”
“I’m aware of how famous you are, June.”
“If they got a photo of us, everyone you know would see it. Old teachers. Ex-girlfriends. Tanya. They’d track down your dad. Ellie would see it.”
“Darwin Correctional Institute doesn’t take bribes. I doubt they’ll have any luck. And even if they do, I haven’t seen him since I was fourteen. He won’t have shit to tell them.”
I chew on my bottom lip, trying to decide what to say in response. I have a basic idea of Teddy’s feelings toward his father, but we haven’t discussed Harry Owens in eight years. I wasn’t sure if he was even still in prison, which, apparently, he is.
“I thought you’d be more worried about someone posting a photo of you with a guy who isn’t Kyle,” Teddy continues.
“Yeah, well…” I play with my sunglasses, opening and closing the sides of the frames. He’ll see it in the papers. Or more likely, everyone on the tour will be gossiping about it. “We’re not together anymore.”
“I thought you were never together?”
“We weren’t, not for real. Now, we’re not even pretending to be.”
Teddy’s brow furrows. “Since when?”
If I had to guess, I’d say he’s recalling Kyle kissing me when he showed up yesterday.
“A couple of hours ago, I guess. My team put out a statement just before the show.”
“Is that why he showed up here? To fake break up with you?”
“Uh, no. I pulled the plug.”
“Why?”
I decide to be honest. It can’t be much of a surprise at this point. “In case we had a conversation like the one we’re just having. I’m not apublicly date one guy, sleep with anotherkind of girl.”
Teddy shoves away from the wall and holds out a hand, which I take. It feels like a momentous occasion, a decision far more meaningful than simply pressing our palms together.
And then we leave. Together.
