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“This sounds like a trap.”
He huffs a small sound that might be a laugh. “I’ll be there with you.”
My body deflates in an instant. “I don’t want them at the apartment, though.”
“Then you pick a place,” he says. “And if we need to leave early, we will.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
There’s that hum again. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Fuck.
I clear my throat. “You’re good at this husband thing, you know. Pretty sure I hit the jackpot when I locked you down.”
“Pretty sure you’re good at it, too,” he counters.
“How do you figure? ’Cause I’m messy, can’t cook nearly as well as you, I tend to hump you when you’re trying to sleep—although, granted, I’m usually mostly asleep, too…sometimes—and I legit don’t even know how to balance a checkbook? Actually, does anyone even own one of those anymore? The point is I’m pretty sure you pulled the short straw, my friend.”
“Kipp,” he says, warm laughter bleeding through his tone. “You called.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I know I called…”
“No,” he says, definite laughter in his voice now. It tempers, though, when he says, “You called me when you were upset. That means a lot.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
“Don’t worry,” he says softly. “You’re nailing this husband thing, too.”
God, this is complicated, isn’t it?
“A bit,” he says, making me realize I said that aloud. “Don’t overthink, Kipp. I’m here if you need it. It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”
But it does. It means so much more.
“Are you wearing a towel?” I ask, desperate for a change of topic and belatedly remembering Alex’s comment.
Teddy hums. “I am.”
“A small towel.”
“It’s a normal-sized towel,” he says.
“But you’re not a normal-sized man. You’re, like, a bear. Which, honestly? Go us queers. That’s such a good description.”
He huffs a laugh. “Kipp.”
“I feel bad for twunks, though. Like, wouldn’t minks be better? Muscle twinks? Instead of twink hunks?”
“Kipling…”
“I’m just saying there are better options. And don’t even get me started on otters—”
“Sweetheart, are you supposed to be working right now?” Teddy asks, pulling out what I now recognize as his Daddy voice.
“Oh,” I say, my entire body rolling in a shiver. “Right. Uh, lunch, actually. But, yeah, my time is running out.”
“Go get something to eat,” he says gently.
