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“What?” I ask, sensing his gaze on the side of my head.
“You’re quite enchanting, you know.”
I nearly drop the plate I’m holding. “What? Enchanting?”
“You are,” he says around a chuckle, taking a step closer. My blood pressure shoots up. “You had Scott wrapped around your finger practically from the moment you met. Same as me.”
“I don’t…” Teddy isn’t wrapped around my finger, is he? That’s preposterous. He barely acknowledged me for over a year.
“And I’ve seen the way you charm others. Men,” he says, his words a touch on the hard side, even though I can tell he didn’t mean for them to be.
“You’ve been watching me?” I ask quietly, staring at the soap bubbles on my hands.
“Would that bother you?” he asks, another step closer.
It feels like a hot stone has been dropped into my gut, the sensation not at all unpleasant. “No,” I whisper.
He hums, so close I can feel the vibration. “Good thing none of them can have you. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Ungh.
“Words,” he whispers, lips brushing my ear.
“None of them,” I reply, my voice hoarse.
Teddy squeezes my neck. And then he walks away.
I spin my head to follow his departure. “Where are you going?” I ask, trying not to sound indignant.
“Bed,” he answers. “It’s late.”
“It’s not that—oh.”
Teddy chuckles from down the hall, and I wash dishes faster than I’ve ever washed dishes before.
When I get to the threshold of the bedroom, only slightly out of breath, Teddy is in the en suite. I run across the hall, freshening up in the other bathroom at superhuman speeds, and then I shuck out of my clothes, nearly tripping on my way to the bed. By the time I’m half-under the sheets, my heart is pounding.
Teddy comes out from the bathroom and spots me immediately, his eyebrow twitching up the tiniest bit. I try to play it cool.
“Hey,” I say, up-nodding.
He stifles a laugh, grabbing my shirt off the floor and walking slowly to the closet. He drops it in his hamper, followed by his own shirt. His pants come off next and get carefully hung up. His briefs stay on.
I’m pretty sure I’m about to find out if spontaneous human combustion is real.
Teddy takes his time as he comes over to the bed, an effortless swagger to his step. When he slides under the sheet and pulls out a book from the shelving on the headboard, I gape.
“Teddy?”
“Mm?”
Is he seriously reading right now?
“Um,” I say slowly. “What’cha doing?”
And why isn’t the answer me?
“This is a good book,” he says, opening his arm in invitation. “I’m just going to finish this chapter before bed.”
