Page 116 of Pucking Strong

I look up, heart in my throat. He sits across from me, looking like my every dream in that fitted blue suit with the little yellow pocket square, no tie, shirt unbuttoned to expose his neck. He trimmed his beard for tonight. His sandy hair lies perfectly across his forehead. He wants to offer me a reasoned counterpoint on why we shouldn’t flirt with each other?

“Sure,” I say on a breath.

His gaze softens. “How will I know if I can give you everything you want, if you won’t let me try?”

Teddy lets out a shaky breath, eyes on the half-eaten plate of branzino. “What would that even look like?”

“Me trying?”

He nods.

I consider for a moment. “The article I read talked about secondary sexual attractants too, things like personality and life experience, talents. Teddy, your personality has always attracted me. From the beginning, I’ve felt drawn to you as a person, your light, your energy. The more I’ve come to know you, the more I want to be where you are. I know there’s nothing inherently sexual in that admission, but it’s still an admission.”

He reaches for his water glass, seemingly desperate to do something with his hands. “Fair enough. But I don’t think I can be content just sharing space with you. I know we’re doing that now,” he adds. “But I don’t know if you noticed that I’m not handling it all that well.”

“I’ve noticed. I still make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you make me turned on. There’s a difference.” Setting his water glass aside, he tosses his napkin on the table too, holding my gaze. “Hen, this has never once been about me feeling uncomfortable around you. You keep using that word. That’s not it at all. Or if itisa feeling of discomfort, it’s rooted in me being completely, irrationally, and irrevocably in love with you.”

I blink. “What?”

He frowns. “Oh, did you not want me to go there? We’re having the honest conversation now, right? So let’s fucking have it.”

Bracing myself, I nod. “Fine, proceed.”

“From the moment we met out on that sidewalk six years ago, you crashed into my life, and into my heart, and literally swept me off my fucking feet. I looked up at you and felt like I’d just found the one. It’s crazy, I admit that. But that’s who I am.”

He presses a hand to his chest and goes on, “Henrik, I can only be who I am. I can only feel what I feel. And what I feel for you is so far and away above what you feel for me. The imbalance here is fucking staggering. And now you’re offering me crumbs while I’m over here literally starving. Don’t get me wrong, I’m gonna take them. I will take every crumb you offer because I can’t walk away from you. I certainly can’t walk away from Karro. She’s sunk her hooks in me all the way to my beating heart. I love that little girl. So now I’m twice as twisted up, wriggling like a fish on both your lines.”

My mind races as I listen to his confession. His mother is right—he doesn’t want things from me. He doesn’t want my clothes or the comfort of my apartment. He doesn’t want money or acclaim. He’s not chasing me for status. He just wants me. It’s a heady feeling. I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt wanted before. Needed, certainly. Everyone in my life always seems to need something from me. I give and give, offering whatever I can. I would give until there’s nothing left for myself.

But Teddy doesn’t need anything from me. He has a career and a life, a strong family of support, good friends. He could walk away and be fine. I never have to worry that he’ll find what he needs. He’s here because he wants to be here. He faced down the press with me, stood up to his family for me. He’s embraced Karolina, treating her like his own child, loving her as she deserves to be loved.

All for want of me.

His expression is wary as he takes me in. “Henrik? Fuck, say something. I said too much, didn’t I?” He groans, sitting back. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Can we sort of, just, rewind?” He gestures with his fingers like he’s spinning back the tape. “Let’s just order the cheesecakes. Nov said we should try them.” He cranes his neck, looking around. “Do you see our waiter?”

“But weareat this table.”

He lowers his hand from gesturing for the waiter. “What?”

“We’re at this table,” I repeat. “There’s no going backwards.”

He opens his mouth to speak just as the waiter appears.

“Hey there! How are we doin’ over here? Oooh, looks like we’re still working on those mains. Can I get either of you a refresh on your drinks?”

“We need a minute,” says Teddy, his gaze locked on me.

“But you called me over—”

“My guy?” Teddy cries. “We need a fucking minute. Please and thank you.”

The waiter disappears, and I can’t help but smile.

He groans, dragging a hand over his face. “Fuck, that was so rude.”

“I’ll tip him generously,” I reply, still smiling.

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