Interpretive Hearts

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Interpretive Hearts Page 4

by Amanda Meuwissen


  Fuck. Teddy was making things worse, giving him hope, but then maybe he was overreacting thinking he couldn’t allow something to spark just because of his hip and general feelings of floating in purgatory. Giving in didn’t have to be a disaster just because everything else in his life was.

  “Next time,” he said, as they moved toward the checkout counters and Rose went ahead to pay, giving them another moment of privacy. “What movie are you watching?”

  “Our movie nights are always action or horror. Sometimes classic, sometimes cheesy. Tonight, I’m showing Rose Doom.”

  “She’s never seen it?” Teddy asked, smitten by the wicked glint in Finn’s eyes—Doom, with Karl Urban, and one of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s first movies. “Well, then, I realize it’s sacrilege to enjoy the film if you’re a fan of the video game—”

  “As any normal person should be.” Finn nodded, further solidifying his sparkling charm.

  “But,” Teddy dropped his voice to a whisper, “I actually rather like it.”

  “Me too! You sure I can’t change your mind about joining us?”

  Rose was moving quickly through the checkout line, but the one next to them was open, prompting Teddy to diverge. He could have chosen to stay where he was, take Finn up on the offer, but he needed at least a little more time to decide if this was a risk worth taking.

  “Next time,” he said again, and Finn nodded with a wide grin.

  “Deal.”

  TEDDY did not see Finn on Tuesday, and at his Wednesday appointment, he managed to resist getting caught up in Finn’s simple touches, though the banter was still present. Teddy just wasn’t ready to take the plunge yet, not during their first week, and Finn, thankfully, didn’t push.

  Thursday went by without seeing Finn either, though that might have been because Teddy never left the house. He wasn’t moping, but he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was on his second book already with no ideas about how to spend his retirement.

  He didn’t have hobbies. He read, enjoyed good food and drink, traveled on occasion, but he had no desire to travel now. Everything else had revolved around shows, whether dance or theater, and his heart wasn’t up for any of that.

  Rick had suggested community theater, but Teddy wasn’t that desperate.

  A few fresh texts from Hartley didn’t help either, especially the most recent: Just thought you’d like to know that rehearsals are going beautifully. No one’s even thinking of missing you.

  Dick. He knew exactly what sort of backhanded compliment that was. It wasn’t even a backhanded compliment, just a slap in the face.

  More pressing was that by Friday’s appointment, having been on a consistent routine with his exercises, Teddy was sore. He never used to get sore so easily, or as tired, and the frustration with that caused his temper to turn snappish and cold—like he’d been accused of being by every student he’d ever taught.

  “You okay, Teddy? Your form’s a little off today,” Finn said.

  “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

  “Tired or in pain?” Finn pressed.

  They were doing sets of standing knee raises, and Teddy was having a hard time staying balanced on one leg with how much it hurt. He’d been taking his pain meds, but he’d always been the sort to burn through medication quickly, and he didn’t want to overmedicate. He’d rather be in agony than not have his wits about him.

  “Teddy?” Finn pressed again.

  Finn came up behind him while he faced the mirror. When Finn’s hands came to rest on his hips, Teddy flinched—not because it hurt, though it did, but because he couldn’t bear for someone to be that close, watching him, when he felt ready to explode, out of control, weak.

  “Teddy—”

  “It’s nothing. Let’s keep going.”

  “I think we better stop for today. Sore can be good, but pain from pushing too hard can set you back just as much as inaction. It’s about balance and finding what works for you and your recovery. It doesn’t mean you’re failing. Everyone’s different—”

  “Can you drop the preachy bullshit, please,” Teddy snapped. “I’m not a fucking child.”

  Finn’s eyes shot to Teddy’s in the mirror, startled and hurt, but the expression was gone a moment later, replaced by an appeasing smile. “We’re done for today,” he said and pulled back to give Teddy space.

  Teddy hadn’t even made it through their first full week and already he was showing Finn his true, ugly self. At least that made it easier to give up on the idea of pursuing him.

  “If it really hurts you, take out a set, go slower, wait longer in between exercises, but if that doesn’t help, we need to keep an eye on increased pain that might mean more than tired muscles.”

  “I know,” Teddy said. It wasn’t as if he wanted an infection, but pushing himself was part of his DNA; he didn’t know how not to or how to not be an increasingly worse asshole to the people in his life. That’s why so few of them stayed.

  The one thing he’d never wanted to be was like his father, but he’d still ended up that way.

  “I’ll ease up. We can be done.” He should apologize, but he couldn’t bring himself to look Finn in the eyes.

  “And to think you started out ignoring your exercises,” Finn joked, though it felt stiffer now, forced. “Balance, okay? No need to touch base in the exam room today. Let me know the moment the pain gets worse, if it does, but you can go, and I’ll see you next week.”

  Dismissal. Patient dismissal and professional, but dismissal all the same.

  Teddy was even angrier when he got home because he could tell he’d broken something important between him and Finn, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Maybe if he’d apologized instead of being a jerk.

  His hip still ached after the drive home. Even walking was a chore. That made his pulse ratchet and his fists clench, and he wasn’t thinking as he stormed into the house, moving like he used to, at a rush, with careless strides as though he’d never had surgery.

  But his hip didn’t like that one bit, and before he could think better of his actions, it seized and he stumbled, cursing all the way down until he landed hard, barely catching himself with his hands.

  He’d fallen. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Rolling onto his back with a huff, he tried to calm down. Had he torn something? Did he just make things worse? If he needed to head to the hospital….

  But no, once he relaxed, nothing hurt more than before, other than his wrists from catching his fall. He’d managed to land without causing more damage, but that didn’t ease his future bruises—or the ones to his ego.

  Once he was ready, and moving much more cautiously, he used what Finn had taught him to roll up slowly, get to his knees, and stand.

  A squeak alerted him that Smudge had been roused from wherever he’d been sleeping, concerned for Teddy as he rubbed against his legs and squeaked again.

  “Sorry, buddy, can’t reach down to pet you right now.” Teddy walked sluggishly to the sofa, where his pain meds and a bottle of water from that morning sat on the coffee table. After easing down into the cushions, he snatched up the medication, since it was time for more anyway, and downed his dose with a grimace.

  Smudge hopped onto the coffee table, and Teddy was able to reach over and stroke his fluffy head.

  “Good boy. Hard to be saddled with a mess like me, huh? Might not be the best snuggle buddy right now, but I’ll be okay.”

  Sitting at the edge of the table to enjoy a few more pets, Smudge regarded Teddy curiously but eventually agreed to leave him be and trotted away. He really was the perfect cat—or psychic. Teddy needed alone time.

  He turned his head to the sliding glass doors and his brand-new beach chair outside, which was everything he’d wanted as far as comfort and support, but he had no desire to sit out there now with the chance of Finn coming home soon and seeing him.

  Teddy just wished everything could be easier, which he knew was juvenile and stupid, but those thoughts
plagued him anyway.

  If only he’d never needed the surgery. If only he was younger, could recover faster and get back in the game. If only he’d met Finn under different circumstances. If only he wasn’t an asshole. If only he could enjoy Finn’s hands at his hips, or his elbows, or along his lower back, always present during their sessions, tender and careful.

  In another life, Teddy might have encouraged Finn without fearing the inevitable unraveling that always followed his romantic entanglements. He would have taken Finn’s hands with those long, lovely fingers and held them in place at his waist, maybe even pulled them around his stomach and down beneath the elastic of his sweats.

  Teddy grunted in annoyance at his shifted train of thought, because now he was getting hard—hard while thinking about Finn with no desire to derail the fantasy.

  Much as he needed release, he still paused to peek in the direction Smudge had gone, seeing the cat at his water dish, then watching him head off toward the bedroom. It was silly to worry about his cat catching him, but still, Teddy was grateful for the solitude and relaxed back onto the sofa, feeling the faint numbness of his meds kicking in.

  He thought again of Finn’s hands slipping into his sweats and allowed one of his own to do so for real. It was a naughty daydream, picturing it all happening in the gym at the health center, alone with Finn but with the chance that someone might catch them at any moment.

  Teddy curled his fingers around himself and squeezed, pulsing hotter from the scene playing behind his eyes after he closed them—how Finn would obey his subtle nudging, even though it was terribly inappropriate in public.

  Facing the mirror with Finn behind him, Teddy would meet Finn’s eyes, finding hunger instead of the judgment and sorrow from before. Finn’s fingers would tease along his length, and Teddy would gasp, hips subtly moving—

  “Ah!” Teddy hissed when he tried to mimic the fantasy, buttock muscles tightening like they always did when he touched himself, which was part of the problem doing those exercises in Finn’s presence, but Teddy’s injury wouldn’t even allow him this.

  He removed his hand with a growl and tried to think of other ways to help himself along without aggravating his hip, but it wasn’t easy without a partner.

  How terrible of a person would Teddy be if he called Finn to apologize for earlier with the ulterior motive of inviting him over?

  Definitely an asshole.

  “Knock, knock!” a voice called from the entryway and—no. Not now. Please no. “Teddy!”

  Erina—his sister, dammit—without having given him any warning, announced herself as she came right in, and Teddy hurried to right himself, causing a renewed spike of pain to tear through his side.

  “Fuck,” he hissed again.

  “Teddy?” She appeared finally, looking beautiful as ever with her long black locks curled loosely over her shoulder—the same color his had been before it started to gray—with dark eyes like his, too, and wearing a classy ensemble in a mix of black and gold.

  Smudge reappeared to greet her—and even rubbed against her legs.

  “Aw, is this my furry little nephew?” She reached down to pick him up and moved into the living room with him.

  “Erina,” Teddy growled, though he should have known she’d pull something like this. Ambushing him was one of her favorite pastimes.

  It didn’t help that Smudge seemed perfectly content to let her snuggle him. She pressed her forehead to his, and he nuzzled right into her, the traitor.

  “Did I interrupt something?” she teased, as though she knew exactly what Teddy had been up to, though he’d made sure to let his sweatpants bunch to hide the evidence and it wasn’t as if he’d have his issue for much longer, given her arrival.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “What does it look like?” she said, and Teddy took note of the bag she’d dropped. “Staying for the weekend, silly, to take care of my big brother.” She grinned mischievously as Teddy’s stomach sank to the floor. “Did you miss me?”

  Chapter Three

  TEDDY poured Erina a drink, planning tea for himself. She’d already unpacked in the guest room, making herself comfortable with her heels kicked off, legs tucked under her on the sofa while Smudge sprawled on the cushion next to her to accept her scratches.

  Teddy would have wondered how she could wear such tall and deadly weapons each day, but a dancer’s feet were made of tougher material than most people’s.

  “You could have warned me,” he said from the kitchen.

  “You would have told me not to come.”

  “And you would have come anyway.”

  “So why bother? Neat, please,” she said when he turned to the fridge to grab ice for her whiskey. Teddy always kept a few staples stocked in his liquor cabinet even though he rarely indulged.

  Returning to the living room with the whiskey and his steeping tea, Teddy sat opposite his sister and handed her the drink. Smudge sniffed after it but deemed it unworthy to disturb his backrub.

  “Don’t you have a show to prepare for, Dulcinea?” Teddy said.

  Don Quixote was one of the most famous ballets of all time, and Erina was set to play a pivotal role in the city’s upcoming performances—choreographed by Stewart Hartley. Teddy was surprised Hartley hadn’t used that against him yet in any of his text messages. He could admit that mixed with the pride he felt for Erina’s talent and fame was a shade of jealousy.

  “Exactly why I’m here. This is my last chance to have fun before the Spring Season turns my schedule into a nightmare. When else was I going to visit? And don’t say never,” she rushed on, “you big grouch. You’re lucky Mother wasn’t up for the trip.”

  Teddy didn’t dare say that Erina was far worse than their mother. She knew to give him space.

  Out in the open on the coffee table, his phone buzzed with a text.

  From Finn.

  Hey! Let me know if we need to keep it down. You’re welcome to join us if you want.

  Finn had people over again. If Teddy strained his ears, he could hear the thud of bass filtering over from next door, but only faintly.

  “Who’s that?” Erina asked with a curious head tilt.

  Nope. Not happening—even if Teddy had been thinking about Finn ever since leaving his appointment that day and still needed to apologize for being an asshole. He couldn’t do that over text, though.

  “No one. Just my calendar reminder for physical therapy on Monday. I assume you’ll be gone by then?” He shot off a quick response without making it obvious that he was texting.

  Pretty beat so headed to bed early. You kids have fun.

  Why had Finn even invited him? Wasn’t he deterred by Teddy’s earlier outburst? Or was he just being nice? Regardless, Teddy couldn’t give in to his curiosity—or his libido—with Erina around.

  Sleep well, Finn texted back.

  “Teddy.” Erina reached across the sofa, startling him with a pat on the knee. “Be a good host or I’ll never leave. Now, tell me absolutely everything I’ve missed.”

  TEDDY managed to avoid saying anything about Finn, other than that he had a nice enough neighbor who didn’t annoy him and that he liked his physical therapist fine. She didn’t need to know they were the same person.

  Sadly, the next morning, Erina’s presence was proven to not be a nightmare. She was rummaging in Teddy’s kitchen.

  “Teddy,” she said, hands on her hips after letting the refrigerator door shut, perfectly polished and coifed for the day without a speck of makeup out of place, “you don’t have any food in this house. Other than garbage.” She waved the can of spray cheese at him.

  “I have food,” he protested.

  “Not breakfast food.”

  “There’s coffee.” Usually that was all Teddy required, maybe with toast or a banana, but that wasn’t up to Erina’s standards, apparently.

  “Get ready. We’ll find a bakery or diner so you can show me around town. Or are you too embarrassed to admit y
ou haven’t explored at all since you’ve been moping?”

  Teddy’s eye twitched. “It’s called recuperating. Relaxing. Sitting on the beach with a good book.”

  “Moping. Aren’t you lucky I’m here?” She tossed her long curls over her shoulder.

  “Brat,” he mumbled as he turned around to get dressed.

  “Bitch,” she called right back.

  This time, his mouth twitched. She always managed to wrangle a smile, even when she was driving him crazy.

  No, he hadn’t explored the town much. He knew the beach, the health center, and the grocery store. The cute little mom-and-pop shops with village charm hadn’t been a priority.

  Erina made quick work of that, googling “bakery,” selecting one with the highest star rating, which happened to be closest, and bringing them straight there. Not having to drive was a treat, and since Teddy hadn’t had his coffee yet, he elected to forego contacts and wore his glasses.

  Small Miracles Bakery was situated among several other shops along a quaint street. There was a bustle of bodies inside, but even so, a handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes took the time to shout a greeting from the front of the store.

  “Good morning! Be right with you.”

  Teddy and Erina got in line, leaning around the crowd of Saturday morning pastry shoppers to see what was offered. The array of baked goods and the smell of toasted items, including something savory—egg, bacon, and cheese for sure—stirred Teddy’s stomach to hunger. They hadn’t eaten much last night, merely snacked and talked until Erina gave him leave to go to bed.

  “Welcome to Small Miracles Bakery,” the man said when it was their turn.

  “Love the name,” Erina gushed.

  “My uncle used to say there are no coincidences, only small miracles you’re meant to take advantage of. What can I get for you two?”

  “That one is mine!” A familiar voice rang out before Teddy could answer, drawing his attention to a doorway into the kitchen just as Rose came out of it.

  Followed by Finn.

 

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