Chapter 16
Connor
The thing about Solterra traffic was that it felt relentless some days. Especially when the weekend arrived. I sat at a red light two blocks from Teddy’s place, fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the steering wheel. The light turned green, and I eased my foot down.
What I hadn’t factored in tonight was the way my body buzzed the entire drive here. Nerves, maybe. Excitement, definitely. All of it lit up because of her.
Turning the last block, her building came into view. I’d been here before because Micah and Bobby lived in the same place, but never into her apartment.
I climbed out of the car, the ocean air swirling around me as I breathed in deeply and smoothed a hand down the front of my shirt.
I’d gone with dark trousers and a crisp white button-down with a dark green tie.
I honestly had no idea if Teddy would try to match me at all, or if she’d pick something that clashed, just to prove a point.
I found her buzzer, pressed it, and waited, palms dampening.
“Hello?” Her voice crackled through the speaker, and my heart rate immediately changed.
“It’s me,” I said, then winced. “Connor. I’m outside.”
There was a tiny pause. “I’ll be down in a second.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets and stepped back, giving myself something else to focus on besides the thundering in my ears.
This was fine. It was dinner, we were colleagues, and there would be a decent amount of people to occupy both of our time.
I paced four steps, my focus locked on the rhythm of my feet hitting the floor before I spun back.
A shift of hinges had my head snapping up to find the door opening, and every thought evaporated when I caught sight of Teddy.
She stepped out into the evening light and glowed.
The dark green jumpsuit hugged her shoulders and waist, the clean lines making her look tall and strong and very much like the captain she was.
Her hair fell around her face in waves instead of the usual braids, and her makeup was subtle and minimal, defining the dark lashes against her turquoise eyes.
Whatever she did to her lips drew my attention almost instantly.
The shine seemed to reflect the streetlamps around us, and I didn’t want to pull my gaze away.
I wanted to carefully trace every curve, every piece of this goddess in front of me, but it had been a few seconds, and I hadn’t said a thing.
“Hi.” I cleared my throat, stepping closer. “You look… beautiful.”
Her fingers tightened around the clutch in her hand. “Thanks. You too.”
She stepped toward me, and I caught the scent of her.
That same scent I’d been searching for all week.
Sweet but sharp too, kind of like limes or sour apples.
Like some kind of possessed addict, I had the urge to bury my head into the crook of her neck and inhale…
but I didn’t because that for sure would’ve sent her running before the night had even begun.
“Shall we?” I asked instead, offering my hand to her.
She hesitated for a second, but slid her hand in mine.
The moment our skin collided, something hot and tingly shot up my arm, like I’d grabbed a live wire.
I knew she’d felt it too when a gasp left her lips, her eyes locked on our hands.
But she didn’t pull away. I wasn’t prepared for what that did to me.
Her palm was warm, and I had this ridiculous thought that I could stay here all night, learning the shape of her hand in mine.
I didn’t think Teddy and I ever touched in the years we’d known each other.
There were moments during college when I’d thought about it, she was a beautiful girl then and she was even more stunning now.
Back then, those thoughts were fleeting and immature.
Yet, in the last few weeks, we’d been forced to cross that boundary, and I didn’t know what to do with all these new feelings.
I needed to get myself together, and fast. My pulse was hammering hard enough to shake the buttons loose in my shirt. I forced myself to let go of her when we reached the curb as I opened the passenger door and she slid inside.
Closing the door, I held on to the cool handle for a second longer than needed just to calm myself down.
Because if holding her hand did that to me? I was probably in more trouble than I’d be able to admit.
I exhaled, circled to the driver’s side, and climbed in.
As I pulled out onto the street, her presence took shape beside me, all controlled energy and quiet focus.
I’d seen this version of her before her games as she stepped onto the pitch, but I wasn’t sure if this was just another defense mechanism right now. Had I made her more uncomfortable?
“You feeling okay?” I asked.
Her head was down as she picked at her cuticles. “By okay, you mean anxious? By okay, you mean wearing heels I’m sure I’m going to fall over in?”
I laughed at her honesty. “The heels look great,” I said without thinking. “All of you looks great.”
Her pause had me rethinking my compliment.
“Connor O’Riley complimenting me,” she said with a vulnerability I don’t think I’d heard from her before.
I’d thought a hundred things about her over the years we’d known each other, some good, some annoying, some more recently X-rated.
But I’d never said any of them out loud.
Not that I was planning on leading the conversation tonight with, “So I keep having sex dreams about you. Let’s unpack that. ” She’d hang me by my balls, for sure.
But beneath that humor was a truth I couldn’t ignore.
I hadn’t complimented her. I didn’t see the point in telling her there were many times I’d watched her argue her point to other classmates and been impressed.
Because back then, I was young and stupidly proud, and because I didn’t know how to say good job without it sounding insincere.
But tonight, knowing she was uncomfortable and still got into my car, still made the effort to be here tonight, that was progress for us. Sure, she’d be doing this for her team, but with me, that made my heart beat a little faster.
“Well,” I said quietly. “I guess I owe you a few then.”
She didn’t look at me, but I noticed her shoulders lower a fraction, maybe a small crack in her armor she wore so well. “It might seem dishonest if you keep complimenting me, given our history.”
I stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. The glow from the signal washed across her face, catching on her lips, her cheekbones, the line of her throat. My eyes dragged down her body; my brain needed proof she was really sitting there.
When I spoke, my voice came out lower than I intended.
“It’d be dishonest to pretend I didn’t notice you, Teddy.”
Her breath hitched, and the red glow from the traffic light painted her cheeks. Only, as the light switched to green, the color didn’t fade.
That was all her.