The Teddy Bear’s Prize (A Date with a Demon #1)

Chapter 4

FOUR

Mia

“You know, I never really liked Jeff,” Erika’s voice echoes through my small bathroom.

I stop brushing my teeth and look at the phone propped up against the backsplash, watching her scrub her face with a washcloth. It’s part of our nightly routine, okay, maybe it isn’t nightly anymore since she moved in with Paolo, but we try to video chat at least three times a week just to catch up.

I spit out my toothpaste. “What do you mean you never liked Jeff?” I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Erika is gorgeous, her brown eyes lit with the vanity lights and her long bleached blonde hair bundled up in a messy bun at the top of her head. She continues wiping the remaining makeup from her eyes, effectively removing the outer bit of her eyebrows along with it.

I wish I was brave enough to shave mine, but they are sparse enough as it is. I never fully recovered from plucking them back in high school.

She shrugs, “I didn’t want to say anything because I was getting worried all of my advice was influencing you. It’s not fair of me to stand on the sidelines and meddle in your love life.” She glances down at the phone, looking me in the eye, “I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he slid into your DMs, Mia. At work.”

That was the first red flag, but it was cute when he asked me about global variables. I thought he was making small talk, programmer to programmer, though it wasn’t something we work with on the front end. I didn’t realize until a few days later, when he kept getting an error message, that it was a legitimate question.

“I know,” I sigh, “The crazy thing is that I found the teddy bear he won me at the carnival on the floor.”

The tiny detail keeps sticking in my mind. The bear was sitting on the couch when I left the room and when I came back; he was crumpled in front of the TV. I know he didn’t get up and walk on his own, so why would Jeff have a problem with a stuffed animal?

“You’re going to throw it out, right?”

“What?”

“The bear,” Erika reaches out of frame and grabs a jar of moisturizer, “The one Jeff won at the carnival.” She channels Ashnikko and sings a few bars about putting it in a blender while smoothing the gel all over her face.

My first instinct is no, I’m not throwing him out. Even if Jeff won him for me, he’s still from the Galloway Carnival, that has to account for something. There’s no telling when they’ll be back in the area, and winning a carnival game is nearly impossible.

“He goes with my decor,” I shrug, looking at myself in the mirror.

“Hey, babes, I need to go. Paolo needs to be up early for work. Text me tomorrow? ”

“Yeah, sure. Love you.” I grab my phone and smile down at Erika.

“Love you, too. Bye.” Her voice trails off as the call ends.

I pad out into my bedroom, feeling the full weight of solitude for the first time tonight. My routine with Erika usually helps me forget, but the shift is clear.

It’s gotten worse since I began working from home a few months ago. They couldn’t justify renting the large campus downtown in the current economy, so we’re all remote until they finish work on the smaller location.

I’m not proud of the fact it’s also made me kind of a shut in. My schedule just never aligns with anything resembling a social life anymore.

I go through my normal routine of checking that the porch light is on, thanks to that one episode of Criminal Minds, and I test the locks on the front and back doors.

“Not gonna catch me slippin’,” I whisper to myself.

The gray teddy bear sits on the couch, staring straight ahead like he’s watching the TV. He. I catch myself again. It’s just a stuffed toy, there is no gender there. Still, I remember his soothing weight as I watched the movie.

“I can’t leave you in here all by yourself.” I walk over, gather him into my arms, and carry him to the bedroom with me, “If I’m going to talk to you like a crazy person, I might as well give you a name.”

It’s strange, now that he’s in my arms, I don’t feel so alone.

I should probably be concerned with how quick I’m getting attached to this teddy bear. I never really had a strong connection to stuffed animals when I was a little girl and it feels almost wrong that I would develop one this late in life. I’ll bring this up in my next therapy session.

But, for now, he needs a name. I hold him tight to my chest and unlock my phone to search for names. It needs to start with the letter T. Not entirely sure where that came from.

I shift the bear in my arms and enter ‘male names that begin with T’ into the search. My fingers still as I scroll past the name Tobias. It’s cute and has a certain old-fashioned charm, soft without being overly pretentious.

“Okay, Tobias, you’re going to be sleeping with me tonight,” I prop him against a pillow on the other side of my bed. “This whole talking to an inanimate object needs to stay just between us, though. Not that it’s weird for me, my Computer Science course had me talking through my code with a rubber duck.”

I cross the room and open my closet, grabbing a band shirt and the same black shorts that I used to wear while playing softball in high school. I’ve filled out a bit since then, so they fit me more like booty shorts, so now I sleep in them or wear them under skirts.

As I lift my shirt over my head, I feel the same odd sensation from the car ride home. The feeling that I am being watched. I pause and check the window, making sure that my blackout curtains are closed.

We have a love-hate relationship. They keep the sun from streaming into my room at the absolute butt-crack of dawn, but I have this irrational fear that someone could be standing on the other side without me realizing.

This is different, though. It’s not a massive invasion of my privacy, just the feeling of being watched. The chill that runs down my spine settles as a warm tingle between my legs, my nipples hardening under my bra. I look to where Tobias is sitting on my bed.

No, that’s silly. The teddy bear isn’t watching you, I think .

Still, I lower my shirt and dress in the bathroom, tossing my dirty clothes into the hamper by the door.

Tobias hasn’t moved, but why would he? Why does some part of my brain keep expecting him to? Yet another thing to bring up with my therapist, I guess.

I climb into bed, lying on my side to face him. His fur is soft, and not what I’d expect from a toy that’s been sitting on a shelf for who knows how long. He still smells like cinnamon.

With a tug, I pull him across the bed and fold myself around him. This is normal, nothing strange about cuddling with a teddy bear. Some people cuddle their pillows.

I sling his weighted paw over my shoulder and nuzzle against his furry neck, sinking into the comforting sensation of being held. Soon, I’m struggling to stay awake, dangling on the edge of consciousness, I can almost hear a deep voice whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

“How are you so sweet?”

In my mind, I’m no longer cuddling the teddy bear, but a truly gorgeous man covered in black tattoos. I lose myself to the fantasy, imagining his strong arms around me as I drift off to sleep.