Operation Meet Cute by K.M. Neuhold
Chapter 12
HARLOW
My ass is aching from the most epic sex of my life and my eyes are burning from lack of sleep. I’m afraid to even look in a mirror right now, having no doubt whatsoever that I am full-on Night of the Living Dead.
I fluff my pillow uselessly, the sun peeking through the curtains mocking any thought of catching even a few minutes of sleep. I’ll just have to put tons of concealer under my eyes and drink a bucket of coffee to get through the day.
Why did Teddy have to say that stuff about the date? Everything was perfect. I was all fucked out and happy, buzzing with all those fantastic orgasm endorphins and then Teddy had to make it weird. Gah, no, it’s not Teddy’s fault. He’s perfect, as always, and he was only trying to make a joke. At least, I think it was a joke. I don’t fucking know anymore. What I do know is that I flat-out panicked, and I’m not exactly proud of it.
His words just hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks. They were too much, and I’ve spent the past nine hours lying here, staring at the ceiling, refusing to analyze my own reaction. It’s like when you squish a spider under a book. Some things are best left unexamined.
The creaking sound of Teddy’s bed sends a jolt through me. I sit up and fling my blankets off, straining my ears for a sign that he’s waking up and not just rolling over. Another groan from his mattress—he should really buy a new one, that sounds terrible—and then the sound of his footsteps on the floor.
I hop out of bed and grab a T-shirt out of the top drawer of my dresser. I don’t realize until I pull it over my head that it’s one I stole from Teddy ages ago. It’s an oversized, thread-bare soft, U of M T-shirt that I borrowed one night after spilling a drink on myself at his place and then never gave back. Out of habit, I pull the collar up to my nose and inhale. It lost any trace of his scent ages ago, but I keep doing it anyway.
I shuffle to the kitchen, tracking the sound of his heavy footsteps overhead as I start a pot of coffee and pull out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread for toast. The one and only meal I’ve ever mastered cooking: eggs and toast.
Once everything is out, I grab the broom out of the closet near the front door and use it to knock three times on the ceiling. His footsteps pause, and I do it again, another sequence of three just to make sure he heard it.
A moment of panic flutters in my chest. What if he doesn’t come down? Sure, I can just go up there and harass him until he forgives me for freaking out last night, but what if this is worse than I realize? What if Teddy wasn’t joking at all, and I hurt him? What if he wants something I’m terrified to give him?
Before I can spiral too far down a fresh panic rabbit hole, his footsteps start moving again, followed seconds later by the sound of his door opening and closing. A relieved sigh rushes past my lips, and I smile to myself, pressing the start button on the coffee maker and getting to work on the eggs.
“Morning, Teddy Bear,” I greet him with a lot more energy than I actually feel.
He grunts and heads straight for the coffee maker to pour himself a cup. My insides jump and fidget while I wait for him to say something. Or maybe I’m the one who’s supposed to break the ice since I acted like a total jackass last night.
Teddy leans against the counter next to me while I move the eggs around in the pan with my spatula. I glance over and find his eyes lingering on my shirt…his shirt…engulfing me and making me look even smaller than I normally appear.
“Please don’t ask for it back. It’s my favorite shirt to sleep in.”
He gives me a look I can’t decipher and then takes another sip of his coffee before responding, “Keep it.”
“Thanks.” I grab two plates for the eggs and then remember I never started the toast, so I keep myself busy with that for a few minutes. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the fact that I can still feel his hands and mouth all over me, the frantic, heated fuck playing over and over in my mind like it has since last night, but I feel jittery as fuck, like I’m about to climb out of my skin.
“I’m sorry,” we say simultaneously. I stop in the middle of buttering his toast and arch an eyebrow at him.
“You said something sweet and funny, and I freaked the fuck out. Why in the name of Keanu Reeves would you apologize?”
Teddy steps over and pulls the pan of eggs off the burner before they’re ruined. I stand corrected about nailing this meal. At least the toast is only semi-burnt. Nothing a thick layer of butter won’t hide.
“I said something weird. It was outside of the parameters of the friends-with-benefits arrangement. I’m sorry for that,” he explains calmly.
My throat feels tight, and we’re skirting dangerously close to the edge of all the things I refused to think about all night. But the man deserves an explanation for my behavior. Blaming himself isn’t going to work for me.
I set down the butter knife and turn to face him, gathering up all my courage as I look him in the eye.
“You are my best friend in the entire world. I love Marnie, she’s like my sister, but this…” I wave a hand between the two of us. “This is fucking it.” I swallow, studying his expression while I get my emotions under control. “And as fantastic as the sex is, if it’s going to ruin things, maybe it would be better if—”
“No,” he says firmly, setting his coffee mug down and straightening up. “You’re my best friend too, and nothing is ruined.”
“Good.” I bob my head and reach for his hand, giving his fingers a squeeze. “I can’t lose what we have, Teddy.” I look into his eyes again so he can see how serious I am about this. “Ever.”
He nods in response, tightening his grip on my hand and dragging me closer so he can wrap his arms around me. Teddy presses his nose against the top of my head, and I lean into his embrace.
“Nothing is going to ruin our friendship,” he promises. “I won’t let it.”
I squeeze him tight for a few heartbeats until all of the buzzing in my body settles down, replaced by a sense of calm. I pull back and tilt my head so I can bring my lips to his, pressing a soft, sweet kiss there before stepping out of his grasp.
“You might want to save promises like that for after I’ve tortured you by introducing you to my family and showing you all around the dinky little town I grew up in,” I joke, and he smirks. My chest tightens, and unfounded worry swamps me that he’s going to beg off, tell me it’s not a good idea if he comes on the trip in a couple of weeks. I’d hate to admit it, but I’ve been looking forward to taking him back to Georgia with me and introducing him to the other most important people in my life.
“I’m not worried about it,” he assures me, easing all of my fears that he’s going to change his mind.
“Just wait,” I tease again, finally returning to finishing the toast.
We don’t have a lot of time for breakfast before we both have to get to work, but enough time to sit at my cramped kitchen table for a few minutes at least. Our knees bump under the table, and we trade smiles while we chat over our food. Whatever awkwardness I created seems to be gone now.
That’s the best thing about me and Teddy. Our friendship is unshakable, written in stone, transcending space and time. Nothing can come between us, especially not earth-shattering orgasms.
