Page 38 of Flagrant Foul
By the time I get to the tank, he’s on his knees. Before I have time to ask why, he says, “Hide.”
“What do you mean by hide?”
“I mean, hide, so Ragnar can’t see me, so you can see the difference when hedoessee me.”
I can’t think of a way to refute that, and the last thing I need is a second longer of standing behind a sky-blue boxer-brief-clad Teddy O’Reilly on all fours. I get down on my knees next to him and the two of us duck until he deems it appropriate to raise our heads again.
He taps my arm. “Look now,” he says as he pops his head back into Ragnar’s view.
Huh?
It’s hard to explain, but believe it or not, I think this fucking fish might actually be happy to see Teddy. Teddy moves his head to the far side of the tank, and Ragnar follows. He moves it back again, and again, Ragnar follows. His dorsal fin flaps gently, causing a riot of reds, pinks, and purples to fan out behind him like a silk scarf blowing in a breeze. His pectoral fins flutter happily, and he bobs in the water, blowing bubbles in Teddy’s direction.
“See?”
Teddy turns to me, and his face is filled with such wonder that I have to press my lips together hard to stop a punched sound from escaping. “Maybe,” I concede.
“Not maybe. Definitely.” He gets up and offers me a hand. I take it, and he pulls me up. “Would you like to feed him?”
“Sure. Why not.”
He opens a small container and holds it out to me. I take a single pellet.
“Now, hold it like this.” Teddy takes a pellet between his forefinger and thumb and dips it an inch or so into the water.
Ragnar swims up and takes it immediately. When he’s swallowed it, I offer him my pellet. He stays right where he is and shoots me a look that says something like, “Back off, bitch. He’s mine.”
I understand the sentiment, though I’m not happy that I’m essentially putting words into a fish’s mouth.
“Told you he’s an asshole,” Teddy says proudly.
“Like owner, like fish,” I tease.
Teddy laughs, and that, combined with the lamp from the tank throwing dappled light across his face, is a sight so beautiful, the joints in my knees almost give way.
He leans in like he’s about to tell me a secret. Like a fucking idiot, I lean in too. “D’you know what this fin is called?” He motions to the fin that runs down the middle of Ragnar’s underbody from belly to tail. He presses his lips together to try to suppress a giggle. “An anal fin.”
His eyes crease and light bounces off his teeth. His laughter starts as a rough snort that makes his shouldershitch up and quickly unravels into a seraphic sound I feel all over my face.
This is it.
This is my problem.
This is what I have more of a problem with than anything else. This is what’s getting under my skin even more than his chest and his nipples. More than his legs and the curve of his ass. It’s Teddy being silly and playful and sweet that puts my brain through a blender.
When he’s like this, I remember. I remember everything.
I remember that before he got prickly and angry, I was convinced he was the sweetest boy in the world, and more than that, he was my friend.
When he’s like this, laughing at nothing, but laughing so hard his eyes are almost closed, it takes everything I have not to grab him, hold on to him tightly, and whisperI miss youinto his ear.
20
Sev Delorean
Imanagetospendmost of the day out of the apartment. We had an on-ice practice this morning, and I went out for lunch with Lewis and Bryce. Afterward, I spent some time wandering around Whole Foods, haphazardly throwing things into my cart.
Teddy is out when I get home, so I take my time unpacking and planning how I’m going to explain why I bought a shit ton of apples, potatoes, and bacon, and not much else.
