Heart of Stone

Chapter Twelve: Misery Loves Company

"Thank goodness." Teddy opened the door with a flourish, barely seconds after I'd knocked. It seemed weird to let myself in when he was already inside—we weren't quite at that stage yet.

"Bad day at the office?" I asked, draping my coat over the armchair.

"Yes, but only because my manager has been yacking down my ear all afternoon. I assume you've seen the story?"

"It was trending on Twitter."

He nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. "Drink?"

With his back to me as I followed him around the corner, I stole an appreciative glance down his body. Broad shoulders stretched his white t-shirt, fine material clinging to his skin and accentuating each slab of muscle in his torso. The tight fabric left just enough to the imagination, encouraging me to visualise him without it.

To distract myself from that dangerous temptation, my eyes roamed over his acid wash jeans, landing on plain black socks covering large feet. Just as my mind started down that inappropriate street again, I shut it off.

Teddy pottered about making tea and explained that he'd locked horns with his manager over the article. They both agreed that being so high profile made him an inevitable source of gossip, but they didn't see eye-to-eye on Lacey's involvement.

"According to Helen, I should have been more sensitive about the Lacey thing." Teddy rolled his eyes and passed over the mug, and we strolled back into the living room to sit down opposite each other.

"Sensitive in what way?"

"You met her the other night, didn't you? She's a live wire. Doesn't play by the rules. Likes to stir the pot. And now she's retweeted the story with her jokey comment, which has given it credibility. First rule of gossip-management: don't comment on it."

"But that's on Lacey, surely?" I blew across the top of my tea, keeping my eyes on Teddy. "She retweeted it. Not you."

"I know, but apparently I should've seen it coming. By dancing with Lacey in the first place, I was setting myself up. That club was heaving. Maybe I should have been more sensible... I don't know. It just shows that wherever you go, however private you think it is, you're never truly protected from people who want to sell a story."

Although he didn't give away anything that would suggest he suspected me, I trod carefully.

"Strange, though, isn't it? If you can afford the entrance fee, why would you need the money from a story?"

Chuckling, Teddy leaned back into the sofa. "It's not necessarily about money. Perhaps I upset a girl at one point and she's out for revenge."

Fuck. He knew he'd upset Becca. How could he not suspect me? Despite the paper-thin ice upon which I crept, I needed to dig further. If this was game over, better to find out now than make a tit out of myself later down the line.