Page 54 of Pucking Strong

He groans, pressing his forehead to the door. “Will you stop being so damn polite? I know you want me out, okay?”

Christ, is that what this is about? I drop my left hand down from the door and place it on his right shoulder. “Look at me, Teddy.”

He lets himself be turned, back pressed against the door. “What do you want from me, huh?” His green eyes are narrowed, jaw tight. His stance is almost defiant. I know what he’s doing. He gave it away with his little speech. This isn’t about needing clean clothes. He had no problem hunting through my “fly as fuck” closet back in Stockholm. He’s running from me because I made him think I don’t want him here.

I hold his gaze, my hand still on his shoulder. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Man, whatever.” He tries to turn away. “I’ll just see you in the morning—”

I press in as he turns, pinning him to the door.

He drops his bags, both hands going to the door as he pushes back with his hips. “Henrik—fuck—”

“I want you here.”

He groans. “Come on, man, don’t.”

“Fuck the others. Having them all here was admittedly very difficult for me. Because you’re right—I’m a private person. I don’t like sharing my spaces with anyone.”

“So then let me leave,” he says, his tone almost pleading.

I drop both hands down to his shoulders. “Not until you understand the difference.”

“What difference?”

“You are not anyone to me,” I pant. “Not anymore.”

The fight goes out of him as he presses himself to the door. “Then what am I?”

Christ, what a loaded question. Do I even know the nature of what Teddy is? Of what he’s becoming? Six years ago, Teddy was the silly intern who walked into traffic. Two weeks ago, he was the kind soul who tethered me to reality when I received the worst news of my life. Last week, he was the friend who helped me grieve for my sister and my mother. This morning, he revealed himself to be a valuable partner, someone who thinks through the things I overlook, like decorating Karro’s room to make it feel like home.

“What am I, Henrik?” he asks again.

I give him the only answer I have. “You’re someone. You’remysomeone. And I want to take care of you. Please, Teddy—you’ve been taking care of me so well for weeks now. Let me return the favor. Don’t drive off in the dark to go sit alone in an empty hotel room.Stay.Stay here with me and let me take care of you for a change.”

He sighs, shoulders sagging with resignation.

I sigh too, but in relief. Pushing off the door, I give him the space to fully turn. He eyes me warily, clearly unsure what to do next. I offer out my hand. “Come.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just come with me.”

He places his hand in mine, and I lead him down the length of the apartment, back towards the kitchen. Cutting left, we take the second hall that splits between the laundry and hall bathroom on one side and my bedroom suite on the other.

Teddy’s feet shuffle as he walks behind me. “Henrik, seriously, what are you doing?”

“Showing you my favorite room in the house.”

“I swear to god, if you have a red room back here …”

“What’s a red room?”

He snorts. That’s all I get for an answer as I lead him first into my bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, the walls are white, not red. The furnishings are simple, just a pair of long and tall dressers and a king-sized bed on a platform frame. One wall is full glass that I can fog over with the touch of a button. It offers the best view of the sunset over the river.

Teddy looks around, his gaze landing on the bed. “Henrik …”

“Come,” I say again, leading him through into the bathroom.

---