Starting With You

48. I call foul.

Teddy

I WALK UP TO MY APARTMENT to find a man sitting on the ground, his back resting against my door.

"Jensen?" I ask. "What are you doing here?"

When he rises to his feet, he loses his balance and falls back against the door. I reach out to steady him. He's drunk. He rarely drinks enough to get drunk, especially around me. He knows how much I've resented taking care of my drunk father all these years.

"Did you walk here? All by yourself? In the dark?" His words are a bit slurred. "Teddy. That isn't safe. You can't be doing that. Where were you anyway? I've been waiting for a while."

I push him aside to unlock the door and then usher him inside. "How'd you get here? You didn't drive, did you?"

"I ran. My truck is at home."

"You ran?"

"Yep," he says, popping the p. "I ran all the way to my dad's, but then I saw that fucking yellow door and I heard their laughter, and I just couldn't do it. Then I met Hal, and we drank some beers and had some pizza. Hey, how come we never go to Townies? If you can get past the smell, it's a pretty decent place."

He kicks off his shoes and falls onto the couch, holding his arms out to me. "Come here, baby. Come snuggle me. I miss you."

Ignoring him, I retreat to the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. He said he had pizza, but maybe he needs food too. As I search through a cupboard, he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle, pulling me close to him.

"Jensen." His name is a whoosh of air as I try to center my thoughts. His body pressed to mine feels too good, too familiar, and I've been missing his touch too much to resist it tonight. But I don't want it like this. Not when he shows up drunk on my doorstep. Not before he sorts through his demons, which is glaringly obvious that he hasn't.

I wrestle myself out of his arms, putting distance between us. "Don't, Jensen. Don't do that. Not tonight. Not like this."

He runs a hand through his unruly hair. "Shit." He backs away from me, settling his unsteady body against the counter. "Shit, Teddy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. Should I leave? Yes, yes, I'll leave. That's a good idea."

When he starts to leave, I intercept him in the doorway. "No! No, J. You can't leave like this. You're too drunk. Just stay. I'll get you some water and Tylenol and you can sleep it off in my bed."

He hangs his head. "I'm sorry, baby. I keep fucking up, don't I?"

"You didn't fuck up, Jensen. You're human. You have emotions. You're allowed to try to escape them sometimes. Maybe do it at home next time, though. Or bring Kelly or one of your brothers with you. You know, a babysitter."

He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Noted."

I grab his hand and lead him through my apartment and deposit him in my bedroom, leaving to fetch Tylenol from the bathroom. When I come back to the room, he's shirtless and splayed across my bed.

"Here." His hand shoots up, holding his shirt. "For you."

The gesture makes me smile and I take it from him, handing him the medicine in exchange. "Aren't you sweet?"

"I found this one under your pillow." He shows me the one I stole from his hamper the other day, and my cheeks heat.

He props his head up on his hand and watches as I trade my shirt for his. I unhook my bra under the shirt, pull one strap off my arm through the sleeve and snake the bra out of the opposite sleeve hole, tossing it onto the floor.