Page 31 of Pucking Strong (Jacksonville Rays #4)

“Just do it,” Teddy says, holding still while the photographer angles my face until I’m all but breathing down his neck. He snaps a few pictures of us like this. With each click, I fight the urge to look up and inspect which camera body and lens he’s using.

Once they free us, Teddy darts away. Swiping his backpack off a chair, he heads for the door.

Janine steps in just as I go to follow. “Oh, Henrik, I wondered if I could get just a few more pull quotes for the article—”

“No.” I step around her. “Please, excuse me.” Something’s wrong. I can feel it. I follow after Teddy. “Hey,” I call out just before he ducks into the stairwell. “Teddy, wait.”

He pauses, back turned, one hand holding open the stairwell door.

“Where are you going? We drove here together, remember?” He turns as I approach, and I stop in my tracks. There are tears in his eyes. “Teddy, what …” I reach for him, but he jerks away, backing into the stairwell.

“What the fuck was that?”

I’m reeling, trying to pinpoint what upset him. “Did someone say something to you? Or do something? Who was it? Tell me—”

“ You did!”

I blink. “What?”

“You told those assholes about the sidewalk!”

“And that’s … bad?”

He huffs, crossing his arms. “We agreed that our first meeting story would be in the gym when you walked up with Sully. Remember, baby ?”

“Teddy, I—but you heard Poppy. She said to tell the truth as much as we were able. That’s all I did.”

“The sidewalk story was private. It was ours. It— fuck —” He spins away, daring to flee.

I grab him before he can leap down the stairs. “Teddy, wait. Please, just tell me what I did wrong. Make me understand. I can’t apologize if I don’t know why I’m apologizing.”

“Sure you can. You just say, ‘Teddy, I’m sorry for being such an insensitive ass.’ And then you let me fucking go.”

But I don’t let him go. I band an arm around his chest, holding him to me as he tries to elbow me. Losing my patience, I curse in Swedish. “Du gor mig galen—just use your words, huh? Teddy, I’m sorry for being such an insensitive ass. There. Now tell me why I’m an ass, and I’ll apologize again.”

The fight leaves him on a groan. I feel the rise of his chest against my arm. “I just wanted the sidewalk to stay ours, okay? It was the only thing that—” He sinks into silence on a muttered curse.

I soften my hold on him. “Go on. It was the only thing that what?”

He pulls away enough to turn in my arms. I relax a little, letting my hand drift down to grip his forearm.

He’s still in my hold, but we both know it’s a choice now.

He could easily escape. Instead, he dares to hold my gaze.

“Sometimes it feels like our moment on the sidewalk is the only thing between us that’s real. ”

I search his face. “What do you mean?”

“I—” He blinks, then looks down, breaking our connection. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“Don’t.” I tip his chin back up. “Don’t pull away from me. Don’t hide, and don’t deflect. We’re in this together, remember? Now, tell me what you mean.”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering his words. “In that moment, we were just two creatures of instinct. There were no jobs or responsibilities, no egos, no names. Just raw human connection. In the end, I think that’s all anyone wants, you know? To connect?”

It’s a beautiful sentiment, poetic in its simplicity. “I know.”

“Well, say what you want, but we connected on that sidewalk, Henrik. I know you felt it too. Not in a gay way maybe,” he adds quickly. “More like … as humans, you know?”

“I do.”

“Yeah, well, the moment ego entered the picture, the moment we had jobs, and names, and responsibilities, we let that bond snap. For you, it was a momentary pain. You moved on. Look at you, you’re fucking fine.

But me?” He twists his other arm free and presses his hand to his chest, fingers splayed over my sweater.

“Henrik, I’m not fine. I don’t recover as fast as you.

Wounds to the body are one thing. I know how to heal those.

But wounds to the soul?” He just shakes his head, sinking into silence again.

“Teddy …”

“Look, I’ll be fine eventually,” he says over me, always ready for deflection and self-preservation. “It just took me by surprise in there, okay? We had a plan, and I would have preferred it if you stuck to the plan. If you want to apologize to me, apologize for that.”

“Teddy, I am sorry.”

He lowers his hand. “It’s fine. Apology accepted. But from now on, the sidewalk story is just for us, okay?”

“Fine. I’ll never mention it again … except to you.”

He nods, still inching away from me. This time, I let him go. His eyes flash as he rebuilds his walls, shutting me out. “If it’s okay with you, I think I’m gonna head out tonight.”

My gut clenches tight. “Out?”

“Yeah, my friend Colin invited me out for beers. We were supposed to do it before, but I was in Sweden. You good to go home and relieve Hanna alone?”

He’s still mad at me. Now he’s leaving, and I can’t stop him. I haven’t the right. I promised him freedom, and he’ll have it. Even if it burns like a fire in my chest to say the words. “Of course. Go have fun. Tomorrow is a game day, so it’ll be an early night for me.”

“Cool.” He takes another step away, and I fight the urge to follow. “Well, then maybe I’ll just stay out. I can crash at Colin’s—”

“No.” The word slips out before I can stop it.

He raises a dark brow in a mix of defiance and open question.

“You don’t have to stay out all night,” I quickly amend. “Come home at any hour.”

“I don’t wanna wake you up or upset any of your game-day rituals. Besides, Hanna comes again in the morning, right? So, you don’t even need me there.”

I want to tell him it’s not a matter of needing him. But that feels like manipulation. He wants to go, so I’ll let him go. I feel hollow as I offer him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “My home is yours. Come and go as you please.”

He takes another step back. “If I don’t see you before the game, you know I’ll see you there, right? Gotta give Poppy a few more media moments.”

“I’ll be the one in teal,” I joke.

Neither of us laugh.

“Yeah. Well … night, Henrik.”

“Good night, Teddy.”

He turns away from me and hurries down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Make this make sense. One moment, he’s sitting at my side, squeezing my hand, laughing at my jokes, and telling Janine Marsh he likes my eyes. The next, he’s yelling at me in a stairwell and telling me he plans to spend the night with a man named Colin.

As I stand here, heart racing, the truth settles over me: I don’t want Teddy out with another man tonight. I want him home, laughing with Karro on the couch, making banana splits, and teaching me to braid her hair.

I want him home with me.