Chapter 15
Teddy Freaking Barker
SOPHIE
I’m pacing around the neat rows of boxes that Teddy stacked in my living room, not sure what to do.
Teddy’s not back yet, and it’s almost eleven.
I don’t know whether to be grateful he’s not underfoot or aggravated he’s gotten inside my head despite my best efforts to shove him away.
I remind myself for at least the tenth time that I’m not responsible for Teddy Freaking Barker; his whereabouts don’t warrant a second thought.
But what if Teddy is lying in a ditch somewhere? His car is ancient, he’s not familiar with the roads, and he’s clearly accident prone.
I give myself a good mental shake; this is ridiculous! Teddy can take care of himself. He’s a big, strong werewolf and very muscular. In fact, Teddy has lots of rippling muscles… and strong thighs and forearms… and it’s impossible not to notice how his biceps bunch beneath his tee.
Gah! What am I doing?
I don’t even like Teddy, well, not much anyway. And I’m still miffed he owns ten percent of my bakery. That man can’t even boil water without a microwave, for star's sake!
I stomp off toward my bedroom, ready to call it a night, when my phone pings with a text from Teddy. “Hey, Sophie. Just wanted to let you know I’m bunking at the fire station tonight.”
I stare down at the message, completely flummoxed. Why is Teddy staying at the fire station? And who’s letting him inside?
I have to satisfy my curiosity. “Only firefighters can stay at the station. You’re not doing anything illegal… again… are you?”
Teddy responds with a smiley face. “Nothing illegal, I assure you. This is Jake’s idea.”
My overprotective cousin is allowing Teddy to stay at the fire station? This makes no sense, but I’m too tired to try and reason it out tonight; I’ll have to pump Jake for information later. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Please give Zosia a head scratch for me.”
Give Zosia a head scratch? Teddy wanted nothing to do with my baby fox yesterday.
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Zosia for a few hours; she disappeared after dinner.
I glance up, notice Teddy’s bedroom door is slightly ajar, and take a peek inside.
Zosia, who’s curled up in the middle of Teddy’s mattress, opens one silver eye, yawns, and goes back to sleep.
Huh. Looks like Teddy and Zosia have reached détente… or have they?
I snap a photo of the little white furball on Teddy’s bed and send it to him. “Looks like Zosia has made herself at home.”
Smirking, I wait for Teddy’s reply, expecting outrage or at least disgust. Instead, Teddy hearts the picture.
I bite my lower lip, more confused than ever. Then Teddy texts, “Sweet dreams, Sophie.”
Trying hard to ignore the flutter those words create inside my chest, my fingers hover over the screen. What should I say? Should I wish him goodnight? Tell him I’ll see him in the shop on Monday? Tell him good luck at the pack meet tomorrow night?
I finally give up and send Teddy a nice, noncommittal thumbs up.
Under the circumstances, it’s the best I can do.