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“I don’t know. Get an annulment, probably.” I rub at the ache in my chest. “Tell me it’s going to be okay, bro-friend.”
Niko huffs a small laugh. “It will be. Teddy’s a good guy. He’ll help you get out of this.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. That should be a good thing, right? “Um… I might be out an apartment, too.”
“What?” Niko asks, more alarmed this time.
I explain what happened with Brodie, to Niko’s apparent frustration.
“Kipp,” he groans. “Why didn’t you speak up?”
I flounder. I might, possibly, maybe, have a little bit of a chronic people-pleaser problem. My response is a murmured, “I didn’t know what to say.”
Niko sighs, but it’s not an unkind sound. “Come stay here.”
“No,” I say immediately. “I’m not going to crash with you and Dixon. I already have a plan.”
“You do?” he asks.
“Yeah, I do. I’ll be fine.” Hopefully.
“Okay, but come here if your plans fall through,” Niko says. “You’re always welcome.”
“Thanks, Nik,” I say quietly.
“Always. Call me later?”
I agree, and, after hanging up, I blow out a long, long breath. Then I start my car.
Thirty minutes later, I’m walking back through the lobby of Teddy’s apartment building, my hands overfull. The doorman lets me through, presumably having remembered me from this morning. Or earlier this morning. Juggling the items in my possession, I head up to the third floor and find the door I walked through only a few hours ago. Duffle heavy on my back, heart weighted with something I don’t quite have a name for, I knock.
Teddy opens the door, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. “Kipp?”
“Heyyy.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks, expression shifting to concern as his gaze rakes over me. “And…why do you have so many muffins?”
I let the baskets in my hands fall to my sides. “I have a teeny tiny favor to ask.”
Chapter 3
Teddy
Kipp looks at me with wide, blue eyes, and I can’t do a thing other than usher him inside.
“Give me just a second,” I tell him, shutting the door and walking a few paces away. I bring my phone back to my ear. “Maman?”
“Yes, mon chéri.”
“I have to go. Give my love to Papa, all right?”
“Of course. Bisous.”
“Kisses,” I repeat.
When I hang up, I realize Kipp is still standing inside the door, holding on to everything he arrived with. Mainly, a bunch of muffins, although the large duffle bag slung over his shoulder doesn’t go unnoticed. I focus on that instead of the relief I feel at having him back so soon.
“Here, let me get those,” I say, grabbing the baskets.
