Page 56 of Pucking Strong

“This room has Bluetooth speakers. Feel free to connect.” Stepping past him, I head back to the kitchen. I spy his blue duffel by the front door, grab it, and do as I promised, starting a load of his laundry. Then I go hunt down some toiletries from the guest bathroom, making sure he has everything he needs.

By the time I return with his frothy beer in a cold glass, the water is off, Teddy is in the tub, and music is softly playing over the speakers. I recognize the artist. It’s Norah Jones. I think I have one of her records back at my loft.

Teddy has his locs pulled up, piled high on his head in a messy bun. As I watch from the doorway, he sits forward in the tub with a tired groan, rolling both his shoulders until they crack. Then he sinks back, water sloshing. I knock on the half-open door, making him jolt.

“Uhh … come in,” he calls over his shoulder. “I thought you must have fallen asleep out on the couch or something.”

“I was just giving you some privacy.”

One of his dark brows arches. “Privacy in your room? In your tub?”

“It’s your room now,” I remind him.

“Henrik, come on. You have to let up on your stupid rule. This bathroom is great but let me stay in the guest room. Honestly, I’ll be fine in there.”

I just stare him down. He’s the one who called me stubborn, right? Inflexible? “Are you going to lift any ofyourrules?”

At this challenge, he stiffens, not daring to look at me. “No,” he says in a soft voice.

“Then the room is yours. And here.” I offer him the glass of beer.

Reaching an arm out over the deep side of the tub, he takes it. The tub blocks all but his head and shoulders from my view. “Thanks.”

“How’s the tub?”

He groans again, sinking back into the steaming hot water. “So fucking good. I can’t remember the last time I got neck deep in a tubthat wasn’t a gross hotel hot tub. I like knowing no kid in shark floaties has peed in here recently.”

I chuckle. “No kids have touched this tub. Just me. And now you.”

He stills, his lips touching the rim of his beer glass. Slowly, he takes a sip of the frothy golden pale ale. “You have to stop feeling so bad about all this.”

“What?”

“You have to stop,” he says again. “Stop feeling so sad and guilty, and like you’ve trapped me here against my will. It makes me feel like we’re doing something wrong. And this isn’t wrong … right?” He looks up at me. His cheeks and brow sheened from the steam of the bath.

“No,” I reply. “This isn’t wrong.”

He offers me a smile, nodding at the glass in his hand. “The beer is really good.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Novikov.”

“Tell him in front of Morrow, and you may just get a show.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Hey, Henrik?”

I perk up. “Yeah?”

“You gonna stand there all night and watch me sit here naked in your tub?”

Warmth rises in my cheeks as I quickly turn away. “No, of course not. I—good night, Teddy.”

“I mean, you can,” he teases. “It’s still your house, right?”

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