Page 37 of Flagrant Foul (Totally Pucked #3)
Sev Delorean
Teddy is crying, and it might be the worst thing I’ve ever seen.
His cheeks have gone bright pink and his eyes are bloodshot.
His irises are bluer than I’ve ever seen them and laced with a stark vulnerability that reminds me of the way Earth looks when viewed from space.
Small and fragile. Beautiful and defenseless.
Tears pool in the corners of his eyes near his nose and overflow when he blinks, spilling down his cheeks in steady, continuous streams. He’s not wiping them away or trying to make himself stop, and that makes it worse.
“I won’t ask you for things you can’t give me anymore, Sev. We can go back to being friends like we used to be in the old days before everything started. I-I’ll keep my clothes on and everything.”
That should be a relief, and it is. It’s a huge relief.
It’s just that I’m wrung out and raw from where the conversation we’ve just had took me.
Old, dark places that I spend a lot of my time trying to avoid because it always makes me feel like shit to think about them.
It needed to happen tonight, and I’m glad I told him, but I still feel like parts of me have been forced through a sieve.
That’s why the relief feels a little weird.
It’ll feel like normal relief tomorrow, after I’ve had some sleep.
“I’ll move out as soon as I find another place,” I offer. “I can go to a hotel now if you want. It won’t take me long to pack.”
“I don’t want that.” A fresh sheet of tears falls. “I want you to live here.”
He takes my hand in his and stretches it out, exposing my lifeline.
I should pull away. I know that, but I can’t.
I can’t move a muscle. Instead, I watch helplessly as he leans down, raising my hand to meet his lips, planting the softest, sweetest of kisses on my palm.
It’s a kiss that burns more than it soothes, even though it shouldn’t.
His face is wet from crying, and when he pulls away, I’m left holding a tiny pool of his tears in my hand.
“I want you to know that I’m your friend too. I might not be what Nate is to you—I get that, and I’m not trying to be him—but I want you to know that when your mom’s ready, Nate won’t be the only one on the plane with you. I’ll be there too. ”
There’s a sharp pain where my jaw and throat meet. A muscle spasm or something. It’s bad. It’s so sharp, it makes my eyes sting.
As I take slow, careful breaths to work through it, Teddy slides all the hair ties on his wrist over his hand and puts them in mine.
I’m overwrought from our conversation and from him crying and from the muscle spasm.
I must be because my first instinct, the one that lurks right beneath the surface, is a crazy urge to argue.
To fight. To rail. To give the fucking hair ties back to him. To make him put them back on his wrist.
I manage not to.
Instead, I sit on the couch and watch as he moves around the apartment. He takes the blanket out of the washing machine and hangs it out on the balcony. Then he turns off the lights in the kitchen and living room.
He leaves the table lamp next to me on and says goodnight to me.
I feel obvious, out of place, and wrong.
“Night,” I reply, voice tight.
He makes it to the hallway before stopping, pausing, but not turning to look at me.
“Just one thing, Sev. Nate got it wrong. You’re not an elephant…” He flicks the hall light off, plunging himself into darkness. “You’re a wolf.”