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“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, the simple word wrapping around me like a caress. “I wouldn’t fit in your pants.”
“Well, that’s rude. Your dick isn’t that much bigger than mine.”
“I meant my waist size,” he says calmly, hitching up a brow.
“Oh.”
Teddy snorts.
“For what it’s worth, I very much like your waist size,” I tell him, squirming in my seat. “I like that you’re bigger than me. That you can throw me around or hold me down or—oh, hello.”
Our waitress gives us a nervous sort of smile. “Hi! I’m Lola, your server for tonight.”
“Great,” I say as she fills our water glasses. Teddy laughs under his breath when I shoot a wide-eyed wince his way. Lola goes over a few specials, takes our drink orders, and heads off. I hang my head in my hands. “Can’t take me anywhere.”
“Kipp,” Teddy says lightly. “I enjoy your brand of mayhem.”
“Is that so?” I ask, raising my head.
He hums. “It’s endearing.”
“Well, that’s new,” I say, flipping my menu open as my pulse skitters. “Most guys don’t enjoy the effects of Hurricane Kipp.”
“Do you think I’m most guys?” Teddy asks, using that low, even tone.
My gaze snaps to his, breath catching. “No,” I answer quietly. Truthfully.
He holds my eye for a long moment. “Good.”
The not-at-all-uncomfortable tension is shattered when someone nearby drops a fork against their plate, the loud clattering making me jolt. I huff a laugh and look through my menu, wondering what it means that Teddy doesn’t want me to lump him in with all the rest of the guys I’ve fucked or dated.
I’m scared to hope.
When our waitress comes back around, Teddy and I order dinner. It’s been a long time since I’ve had steak from a restaurant. I can already feel my mouth pooling with saliva.
“This was such a good idea,” I tell Teddy.
“Glad you approve,” he says, mouth twisting in that way it does.
“Ugh. Stop it.”
“What?” he asks, looking mildly alarmed.
“Stop being so damn attractive. I’m only human, Teddy. If you’re expecting me to look at your stupidly gorgeous face all dinner and eat my meat like I’m not thinking about your meat, well, I hate to break it to you, but your expectations are set too high.”
He huffs a laugh.
“I’m entirely serious. It’s a good thing I can’t smell you from here.”
“Is it?” he asks, tone soft.
“Do you know how hard it is not to bury my face in your neck every time you smell all…” I wave my hand around, looking for the right word. “You?”
“It’s just my body wash,” he says, eyes crinkled.
“No, it’s not,” I retort with a shake of my head. “It’s you and the body wash. It’s, like, sure, that stuff smells good. But when I use it? It’s not the same. When it’s on you, it’s like…” I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the memory. “It’s like warmth and sex and comfort all in one. I smell that spicy vanilla you scent, and I’m safe and can relax and just be. It’s contentment, you know?”
When I open my eyes, Teddy’s gaze has me pulling in a breath.
