Interpretive Hearts Read online

  Late twenties, then, which wasn’t terribly young. Still too young for Teddy.

  Finn grabbed a vibrating cell phone out of his pocket. His face flushed when he read the text.

  “Something funny?” Teddy asked.

  “Oh, uhh… one of my friends making a bad joke, wondering where I went.”

  “How bad a joke?”

  Finn’s smile turned embarrassed after he shot a text back. “He asked if I’d decided to role-play Florence Nightingale and sleep here tonight.”

  Teddy laughed before he could stop himself. “And how’d you respond?”

  “I said, yep, so if you could take care of breakfast for everyone tomorrow, that would be great.”

  A fuller laugh left Teddy, and Finn joined him, so Teddy didn’t try to squelch it. “It was a rather dramatic exit we made. When you regale your friends with the tale, please make the injury something cooler than years of dance.”

  “Black ops, got it.” Finn nodded. “But the details are classified.”

  Dammit, why did he have to be so charming?

  “I should…. But hey, do you have your cell phone on you?” Finn asked as he stood.

  “Yes.” Teddy pulled it from his pocket, confused, and Finn plucked it from his fingers. He entered a number.

  “There, now you can call me if you ever….“

  “Fall down and can’t get up?”

  That dimpled grin was the kind Teddy could get lost in. “If that’s the only reason you can think of.”

  Fuck, why was he flirting? Teddy went entirely blank for what to say, which prompted Finn to look away with a bashful glance at the floor, then back at Teddy far too attractively.

  “See you later, Teddy.”

  “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

  Once Finn was out the door, Teddy fell back into the cushions with a groan. At least he had his book, because as much as he still had to pee, he wasn’t getting up from the sofa anytime soon.

  He also had no idea what page he’d left off on.

  THE next morning, Teddy decided he would not call Finn unless there was an emergency. He didn’t need complications. He was terrible company anyway. He’d only end up alienating Finn, and he didn’t want his neighbor to hate him.

  Besides, it wasn’t like they could do anything fun, not full-range types of fun, if that’s what Finn was interested in, until Teddy had undergone at least a few months of physical therapy. He could still attend to himself for the most part, though having that pretty face between his thighs wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  Nope. Teddy wasn’t going to think about it. Fun aside, if Finn was looking for more, Teddy would be an even bigger disappointment, like he’d been with every other relationship in his life.

  A cat wouldn’t judge him, at least. A cat would just be there to snuggle and keep him company while requiring minimal effort. He’d only need to feed it, give it water, and get one of those automatic litter pans so he didn’t have to bend over to clean it. Easy.

  His sister’s email about getting a pet was far too chipper, though. Erina wasn’t chipper. It meant she was trying too hard and assumed he was miserable. He was, but he couldn’t admit that. So, although he did click the link to the adoption agency, his response to her email was that he was only doing it so she would have someone to talk to when she visited.

  The middle finger emoji she replied with was much more her style.

  Teddy spent a good portion of the next few days on the website scouring for cats that were being boarded near him and had traits he could relate to. He didn’t want one that was best with multiple pets. He didn’t want a kitten. He didn’t want one too fluffy that would infest his home with hair and require constant brushing. Just a calm single-pet family adult cat.

  Then he found him, and he was beautiful. Unique as a snowshoe breed, thick fur but not overly long like a Persian, big blue eyes, three years old, as calm and docile as an old man. Perfect.

  Except for his name—Smudge. Teddy would change that the second he got him.

  Quickly selecting the cat and filling out the form before anyone else could snatch him, Teddy noticed that the boarder address was very similar to his own. It had to be someone on his same block; he’d just never figured out how the numbers lined up out here.

  He paid the fees, set a time for delivery, and waited for a response.

  This is great, Teddy! I’ll bring Smudge by this afternoon.

  A little informal in Teddy’s mind—his personal information always said Edmund, after all—but what did he care. It wasn’t like he’d have to spend time with the boarder.

  When the knock came hours later, he almost slammed his head against the front door after looking through the peephole.

  “Finn?” he said, at first surprised—and then he saw the pet carrier.

  Seriously?

  “I am so glad you’re taking Smudge.” Finn glowed, looking even more striking in jeans and a maroon Henley than he had the day they met. “He’s a great sleeping buddy, just the sweetest. Even Nora adores him, but everyone always wants kittens.”

  Why was this happening? Finn must think Teddy did this on purpose to see him again.

  “Teddy?”

  Right. Normal human interaction required. Teddy opened the door wider to let Finn in. “So, this is what you do? Board cats and dogs? How many more do you have over there?”

  “Only Nora right now,” Finn said with a chuckle, “and she’s mine. I started out fostering her but couldn’t let her go. I try to have only one or two other animals at any given time. But that’s on the side. By day, I’m—”

  His cell phone went off, a call with the ringtone “Miss Independent,” which made his cheeks flush as he set down the carrier.

  “Uh, I did not choose that ringtone. It’s my sister, sorry.”

  “I can relate.” Teddy waved him away.

  “This is Smudge’s current food and treats.” He set down a plastic bag. “Just open the carrier and let him come out in his own time. I’ll stop by later to see how you two are getting along.” Before Teddy could refute that, Finn answered the call and turned to exit. “Hey, Rose, what’s up?”

  “Great,” Teddy huffed, closing the door behind him and turning to face the carrier. He sluggishly got down on his knees to open the latch rather than bend, which was what he was supposed to do, but it still made him feel silly and incapable.

  Smudge didn’t move.

  “I don’t bite, I promise,” Teddy said as he carefully sat, but the beautiful feline remained tense and stationary. “I also can’t run very fast, so I can hardly chase you. No? New environment, I get it. I realize I don’t come across as very personable. There’s a reason all my past relationships ended badly and I don’t have many friends, but I’ve been told my worst side was my demanding nature on the job, and I can’t exactly berate you for a sloppy pas de bourrée.”

  Smudge didn’t even tilt his head to look at Teddy.

  “Still nothing, huh? I thought cats, being assholes themselves, didn’t mind fellow assholes. You too good for me, Smudge? We really need to do something about that name. Come on.” Slowly, Teddy grabbed the cat to pull him from the carrier, discovering stiff limbs but not too much resistance, and lifted him into a baby hold.

  He really was beautiful. And soft.

  “There now. I’m not so bad, am I?”

  Smudge blinked at him; then just as Teddy attempted to stroke his chin, he hissed, squirmed to get free, and darted off into the house, leaving Teddy thankfully unscratched but very much alone.

  Wonderful.

  The next few hours were spent calling for Smudge, leaving out food as incentive that occasionally would magically disappear, but still no cat. Even the litter box Teddy set up in the laundry room had been used. How was a twelve-pound cat such a ninja? Maybe because Teddy moved slower than he used to.

  Being crouched down on all fours calling for Smudge beneath the sofa—if he was even under there—was probably why he didn’t hear the doo
r.

  “Are you supposed to be in positions like that?” Finn’s voice caused him to smack his head against the bottom of the sofa. “Oh shit, sorry.”

  Teddy refrained from growling as he sat back on his heels and tried not to glare at Finn, who was muffling chuckles behind his hand and still looked gorgeous.

  “Really sorry. I uhh… let myself in.”

  “I noticed.”

  “You didn’t wait for Smudge to come out on his own, did you?”

  Even what was supposed to be the sweetest cat in existence had rejected Teddy. “I don’t suppose you have any bright ideas for finding him,” he said—just as Smudge jumped onto the coffee table, happily rubbing into Finn’s hand when he reached for him. Teddy turned his glare onto the cat. “You do remember that he’s the one who abandoned you here.”

  “Teddy.” Finn laughed. “He can sense you’re irritated. You just need to stay calm.”

  “I thought pets were supposed to be the ones keeping us calm.”

  “Treat him like a small child.” Finn sat on the coffee table, while Smudge stuck close to his side, purring at his offered scratches.

  “I hate children,” Teddy said, but Finn was undeterred.

  “How about like a new student, then, just learning to dance?”

  “You know that awful coach on Dance Moms?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I once overheard a student say I made her look like a pushover.”

  Finn broke into his heartiest laugh yet, crinkling the dimples beneath his stubble. “Not a people, kid, or animal person. Got it.”

  “Not an anything person,” Teddy grumbled. “This was a bad idea.” He grimaced as he tried to get up, not thinking and doing it the way he used to without care for his hip. It was infuriating to have to think twice about every move he made.

  “Here.” Finn stood to help him, and Teddy grudgingly allowed it.

  Smudge stayed on the coffee table.

  “I have an idea,” Finn said. “Why don’t we share a cup of coffee or something and sit a while so Smudge can see that I trust you. Once he realizes I like you, he’ll warm up to you too.”

  “And why would you like a grumpy old man?”

  “I’ll let you know if I run into any,” Finn teased, forcing Teddy to finally free himself from self-flagellation and smile back.

  They left Smudge be and went to the kitchen to fire up Teddy’s Keurig. He chose a cappuccino to appease his sweet tooth, while Finn was fine with dark roast, cream, and one sugar.

  Smudge still sat on the coffee table when they returned, watching them with a flick of the end of his tail as they lounged on the sofa. To pass the time, Teddy asked Finn when he’d moved in, since he’d always remembered that beach house being empty.

  “Five or six months ago. I probably just missed you and moved in after your last stay here. It used to be my parents’, just for vacations when I was a kid, but I decided to move out here for good, get away from the city. I have some friends in town, and my sister and her husband live here. They were all over the other day. I hope we didn’t bother you.”

  “It was fine,” Teddy dismissed. “You’re hardly raucous partiers.”

  Smudge moved to the sofa suddenly but remained a cushion away from Teddy, still watching them.

  “Keep focused on me,” Finn said in a low whisper that made Teddy realize how close they sat and how teal Finn’s eyes were. “See, the trick with most cats is to ignore them until they come to you, everything on their terms.”

  “I see why we’re having trouble getting along. Too much alike.”

  “So, I should try ignoring you?” Finn gave him that endearing smile again, and Teddy’s stomach flipped. “Sorry.” He pulled away as though Teddy looked shell-shocked. “You can tell me to buzz off if I’m being too forward.”

  “You’re not, I’m just not really….”

  “Gay?”

  “Definitely gay.”

  Finn chuckled. “But not interested, I get it.”

  “More that it’s bad timing.” Teddy thought of his hip, his retirement, his misery.

  “You’re in a difficult place right now, big life transition.” Finn nodded. “You don’t need some nosy neighbor getting too familiar.”

  Licking his lips as he clutched his coffee cup, Teddy focused on the comfort Finn managed to exude as effortlessly as he’d lifted Teddy from that beach chair the other day. “This is an okay amount of familiar,” he said.

  Finn’s eyes followed the trail of Teddy’s tongue. “I’m glad.”

  Electricity buzzed between them like there was a storm brewing outside. Despite everything Teddy had said, he felt drawn to Finn’s orbit like nothing could stop him.

  Weight on his thigh snapped his attention to Smudge, who’d sneaked closer and had his front paws on Teddy’s lap now, peering curiously at him as though wondering why he wasn’t being petted yet. Taking a chance, Teddy reached to stroke his head, and Smudge bucked up into his hand.

  “There you go, see?” Finn said. “You just have to be patient and eventually they come to you.”

  Crisis averted. Teddy had a cat, whose name could now never be anything but Smudge. Teddy couldn’t change it after their adventures today, not with Finn living next door.

  He felt a heat in his chest and low in his belly just from having Finn beside him, tempting him to forget all about his hip and disrupted life, but all too soon, Finn was getting up and heading for the door.

  “Sorry, my sister’s bringing dinner over, so I need to get back. But if you have any more trouble with Smudge, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “I will,” Teddy said. “I mean won’t. Hesitate.”

  Finn really had melodic laughter. As he stood in the doorway, the setting sun cast him in an especially warm glow. “Also, in case you were curious, I am very patient with cats. Good night, Teddy.” He bid farewell with a lingering stare.

  “Good night, Finn,” Teddy said, almost afraid his pounding heart would tear from his chest and follow Finn down the walk.

  It didn’t. He remained unbloodied and unembarrassed. More or less.

  At his feet, Smudge rubbed against his legs and looked up at him with a near-silent squeak.

  “That all you got?”

  Smudge tried again, but it still came out more squeak than meow.

  Crouching carefully, Teddy reached to pet him. “Time for more food, I take it? Or missing Finn already? Because I… I need to eat too. Come on.”

  Heading for the pantry where he’d stored Smudge’s food, Teddy tried to think of anything other than Finn’s less than subtle offer.

  THE rest of the week went by uneventfully. Teddy didn’t see Finn, but the occasional text would ping on his phone, checking to make sure he was okay, that Smudge was okay, without ever explicitly asking if Teddy wanted company again.

  If he was waiting for Teddy to make the next move, he’d be waiting a long while. Teddy just couldn’t. Not right now. Not until he sorted himself out.

  Smudge was good company, a very good sleeping buddy, like Finn had said, curling right against Teddy’s side at night or when he napped, somehow knowing to steer clear of his bad hip and generally being well-behaved.

  Teddy still had no idea what to do with all his free time. He had some family money. He’d saved well. He could coast and exist without needing to work again, given how minimally he lived, but that was just existing, just survival. Somewhere along the line, he needed to live again.

  At least today was his first day of physical therapy. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but it would give him something to distract himself with. This being a vacation town, the health center was connected to a day spa rather than directly to the hospital, though still close to the hospital with doctors on call. It had that sense of “island time,” the same as being on the beach, like everything moved a little slower here.

  It was almost nice. Maybe Teddy would splurge on a massage.

  He sat in the waiting room in simple sweats and sne
akers. He hadn’t met his assigned physical therapist yet, but the name on the sheet had been uniquely old-fashioned. Teddy felt the man’s pain.

  “Edmund?” the nurse called. “Phineas is ready for you.”

  Teddy stood—then stiffened when a voice answered from around the corner.

  “Betsy, how many times do I have to remind you. It’s Finn.”

  You have got to be kidding.

  “Hi, Teddy.” Finn materialized as if out of Teddy’s daydreams.

  Teddy had thought sunlight was required to bring out the auburn in Finn’s hair, long enough that it might have fallen into his eyes if it wasn’t styled to spike upward. Apparently fluorescent lights worked too, his eyes positively sparkling so that Teddy noticed a few golden freckles swimming in the sea of turquoise and his dimples prominent beneath the scruff on his face.

  “I realized I never got to finish telling you about my day job. Crazy coincidence, huh? When I hinted you’d eventually come to me, this wasn’t exactly what I meant. You ready to get to work on your recovery?”

  Fuck everything, Teddy thought.

  The universe was clearly out to get him.

  Chapter Two

  IF Teddy had worried before that Finn might discover his actual age, that fear was now realized since the younger man had access to his medical records.

  “Is this weird? Because you absolutely can reschedule with another therapist, Teddy. I won’t be offended.”

  Finn also made it impossible to take the high road and just leave. Besides, Phineas Archer had come highly recommended, the best physical therapist in town, and honestly, Teddy didn’t want to make a fuss.

  “It’s fine. As long as you promise to keep things professional.” He meant to smirk at the remark, but it turned out as disastrous as everything else lately and came out a grimace.

  “Of course! And I’m serious, if at any point you want to switch to someone else, just tell me. If I didn’t already have a plan in place for you that I think you’ll really benefit from, I’d bow out myself.”

  They were in a small room with a desk, computer, two chairs, and a massage table rather than a hospital bed. Teddy could not stop looking at the table. He’d already thought about getting a massage after the appointment, and now he was with Finn.