Dr. D Spills the Tea

Incomparable

"When I said catch a flight, I meant tomorrow," I said as we waltzed into the JFK airport after having checked in my bags curbside. We'd argued a bit on the way over, if only because everything was so last minute and the price of the tickets had to have been heinous.

"Sometimes last minute flight purchases are more affordable," Theo had argued.

More affordable, my foot. He was lying through his handsome teeth. "This seems excessive," I murmured, as we made our way toward the security line which looked miles long and hardly moving at all. "We could very well have gotten reasonably priced tickets at a more suitable time without all the rush and fuss."

"Oh, hush," was his two-cents as his arm landed over my shoulders, half dragging me toward the business flight line which was nearly empty. Glancing up at him, peeved, I'd nearly forgotten who I was flying with. "Phil will be happy to see you've returned."

He'd already pulled out his wallet and I fumbled after my ID, handing them over to be scanned by a security guard who looked incredibly glum. He passed them back, ushering us toward the metal detectors. "Have you told him we're on our way?"

Theo grinned. "He'll be pleasantly surprised."

It shouldn't have surprised me, of course. It was in Theo's nature to be spontaneous. When he'd proposed to Phil, they'd already had their rings and everyone had already known Phil had said yes, and yet he'd made a big to-do of it without telling Phillip a thing, setting up an entire engagement party behind his back. Nearly every birthday involved impromptu vacations with wild excursions and every holiday I'd get a long-winded call from a shocked Phil who would start the conversation with, "Theo has somehow outdone himself again."

"Don't do that with me," I stated blandly, even as I kicked off my flats, tossing them into the same box as he'd placed his sneakers. While he hardly wore anything that might cause issues with the metal detector, I found myself pulling out earrings, a necklace, my watch, a few rings. "The surprise thing," I clarified when he appraised me with amusement. "I hate surprises."

"You knew we were coming to an airport, right?" he asked, noting the way I'd had to pull a golden clip from my hair.

Annoyed, I gave him a pointed shove toward the full body scanner and he just rolled his eyes, moving forward into the machine. After my scan, we kicked our shoes back on and I very dutifully re-accessorized, ignoring the man who stood there cross-armed, waiting. Slipping my earrings back in, I finally turned to glare up at him. "What?"

His expression was impassive, his shrug almost coy. "You sure you have everything?"

Giving an annoyed nod, I watched him grab my purse, handing it over before offering his arm to me. It was odd taking his arm, falling in step beside him. It was hard to ignore how tall he was, his hardened bicep beneath my fingers, and his scent--when I leaned into his shoulder, taking a quick whiff of it, I found him staring down at me with a quirked brow. It was probably odd that I'd smelled him but when I muttered, "Phil has good taste," he quirked a smile.

"I chose my cologne."

Oh. Averting my eyes, I frowned. I hadn't meant to compliment him, specifically. He didn't need any bigger of an ego than he already had.

We came to a stop, awaiting the train, and I felt him lean down, pressing his face into my neck. The prickle of goosebumps that erupted over my skin wasn't my fault as he took an obvious sniff, his hair tickling my cheek. "I don't usually care for perfume," he said, pulling back to meet my gaze, "but yours is nice." His smile was disarming, his entire aura something akin to the devil. Narrowing my eyes, I saw him tilt his head. "D, that was a compliment."

He should save compliments for Phil. Forcing my eyes forward, I hated the heat that had rushed across my cheeks, the tingle that had run up my spine. "I just want to get a move on." At least that wasn't a lie.

This was ramping up to be a long night.

. . .

Rushed as I'd thought everything would be, we wound up at our gate with forty minutes to spare.

Theo talked me into a restaurant and ordered me a mojito. I'd stared at him for a long moment, taking a careful swig, and he just drank his Pepsi, unperturbed. "First of all," I stated blandly, "how did you know I liked mojitos?"

Theo grinned. "You may not remember much of your twenty-first birthday but I do."

Oh God. That explained it then. "Okay, but why am I the only one drinking?" I asked, twirling my straw, listening to the ice clink against the sides.

"I have to drive."

"That's hours from now," I murmured.

He took another swig of pepsi. "Beer makes me tired."

"Liquor then."

"Makes me horny." He said it so shamelessly, brow quirked in amusement, that I had to do a slight double take. "You wouldn't want to unleash drunk, horny Theo on a stressed, defenseless Phil, would you?" Something about his expression had darkened, even as his lips tilted upward with promise.

I could believe it, I thought with a frown. That explained what I'd found happening in my dorm bed the night of my twenty-first birthday. I may have been drunk as a skunk but one thing I would always remember clearly was Phil's muffled cries and the shocking sight of a younger Theodore glancing over his shoulder, torso bare except for the shirt he'd pulled over his head, making direct eye contact with me as his muscles rippled. Even having been caught, his hips hadn't stopped moving, nor, I was certain, had their fervor come to a halt when I'd carefully stepped back out of my dorm, shutting the door after myself. The image of them like that had fueled my wet dreams for years afterwards, something I would never admit out loud. "Don't talk in the third person," was what came out of my mouth, forcing my eyes to the waiter who quickly set our food in front of us, "it's creepy."

Theo didn't even bother with a response, already picking up his first wing, taking a bite. After all of these years, I knew better than to try to distract him from a meal. There was very little that could deter his attention from food, with one exception of course. There were four months in the timeline where he would have probably withered from fasting if we hadn't outright forced him to eat.

"Hey, T," I murmured, picking up a fry and taking a small bite.

"Hm?" was the most he'd offer, completely enraptured by his meal.

"Back then," I murmured, reaching out to press my finger to his arm, "I never told you how angry I was with you." Chewing, he quirked a brow. "I remember nagging at you, reminding you to do normal human being things," I mumbled, sliding my hand over his wrist, "and you fought with me, cried the whole damn time." Squeezing his wrist, I felt his gaze as he lifted his head, taking in my expression. "You'll be a daddy soon. It's your responsibility to stay strong. No matter what."

Chewing slowly, I watched him mull over my words.

"You're the strong one, D." He gave me a careful look, just reaffirming what he'd said about me before, "It couldn't be anybody else. You're the only woman who has no problem telling me what's what."

"You need someone to tell you what's what," I murmured, taking in his amused smile as he bit into a fresh wing.

"Say it again," he said around his food.

"I said," I started with a haughty tone, moving my hand back to my straw, "you need someone--"

"No, the other thing," he said with a wave.

Hesitating, I wasn't sure what he meant.

"What I'll be soon."

Rewinding in my mind, I realized what he was getting at. "You'll be a daddy soon?"

He looked pleased.

"Really?" I muttered, taking a swig of my drink.

"Once my seed is--"

"Will it be yours?" I wondered, realizing that was an important point we hadn't discussed.

His green eyes gleamed as he gave a nod. "Mine, first. His, next."

Next.

Something about the discussion made me shiver. He was making a big assumption here. "We agreed on one child," I stated carefully, feeling the urge to cross my legs under the table.

Sitting back, I tried to ignore the way his eyes moved over me. "You always wanted a large family."

Why was he looking at me like that? Taking another swig of my drink, I tried not to think of the ripple of muscle, the lust-filled gaze of a boy mid-o****m. My eyes flickered to the table which wobbled a bit as he wiped his hands with one of those alcohol wipes they give to people who choose to eat messy meals. "You shouldn't just assume that I'll give you whatever you want." Even as I spoke the words aloud, I knew it was a lie.

"My goal is to provide you with whatever you want," he said, gently poking my hand with his finger. He was doing what I'd done to him just moments ago, except his hand slid into mine, pulling it forward across the table with a careful grip. "And there's no pressure, of course." Squeezing my hand, his expression was earnest. "If you decide to only bear us one child, that will be completely your decision, and we'll be forever grateful to you."

Smooth talking, easy going, uncomplicated--I gave a slight nod, peeved by the fact that he was manipulating everything. Worse, he was telling me he already had plans for me even after the completion of this first contract, ideas about a future far beyond what I'd signed on to. Taking another swig of mojito, gazing up at a shameless man with an incomparable ambition and a willingness to do anything to achieve his goals, I thought the worst part of this whole gig might just be my sudden, uncharacteristic inability to tell him no.