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Rebecca glanced up at the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of knocking as Ted poked his head around her half-open office door.
“Burning the midnight oil, Boss? Or in this case…lighting the incandescent bulbs…though that doesn’t quite have the same ring, does it?”
She smiled amiably at his unexpected arrival, taking note that he was in joggers and a t-shirt instead of his trademark khakis, and glanced at the time. “I should be asking you the same question, Ted. It’s nearly 10.”
“Well, you know how Henry joined that youth soccer team last month? I thought it might be nice if I had some skills the next time I saw him; maybe give him some tips when we kick the ball around together. I had Roy teach me a few drills… shooting, dribbling, passing. Been trying to get some practice in at night after everyone else has left. No witnesses.”
As he spoke, crossing the room to take a seat in his usual chair, she noticed he was stepping gingerly with one leg and looked across her desk at him with concern.
“Ted, did you injure yourself? You’re walking oddly.”
“Oh, nah, I’m fine. Few aches and pains are probably inevitable when an old dog tries to learn new tricks. Nothing to worry about.”
She gave him a firm and pointed stare. “If it’s hurting you, you should have one of the trainers look at it.”
“Oh, it’s just a muscle knot in my calf. No biggie.”
Before Rebecca had time to think it through or question her motives, she heard herself offer assistance.
“You know, I could help right now? Massage can help loosen up the muscles, relieve some tension.” She was already out of her seat and moving to the couch, gesturing for him to join her.
“You don’t need to do…I mean, that’s mighty nice, but…”
“Don’t be silly, Ted. It’s no trouble. Come here.”
He hesitated for a minute before letting his backpack slide to the ground, nodding slowly, and shuffled over to sit down, toeing off his shoes. Rebecca angled her body towards him and pulled his left foot into her lap, pushing up the fabric of his sweats and running her hand along his leg.
He winced a little. “Yep, right there.”
She stilled her movement and then probed the sore spot gently, observing his face to make sure she wasn’t hurting him too much before pressing her fingers firmly against the knotted muscles, working in small circles.
Ted involuntarily let out a low moan that sent a wave of pleasure skittering through her, resonating deep in her core. She saw the quick raise of his eyebrows, the way he was avoiding her eyes, and kept quiet for the sake of his self-preservation, leaving the noise unacknowledged, even by a laugh or a joke.
If she was honest with herself, she had been reacting to Ted more and more lately, benign scenarios turning her on, her traitorous mind randomly presenting her with various fantasies.
Ted had always been a man, an attractive one at that, had been since the moment he stepped inside her office with a "Hey, how y’all doing?” and that warm, disarming smile. But in the middle of her scheming, she hadn’t known which way was up, let alone fully recognized this person in front of her, too much hurt and hate rippling through her bloodstream as she tried to remove Rupert from her heart.
Of course, glimpses had shown through the cracks, endless instances of his genuine care and kindness, until finally the dam broke and a confession flowed out of her and she’d given him a grateful hug. Then last season had provided its own distractions and disconnection, a perhaps misguided distance between them as they each dealt with their struggles alone. But now, having grown into closer friends and confidantes, with Ted back from a restorative summer trip to Kansas and several months into their third year as professional partners, something had been stripped away. She was deeply, almost painfully, aware of him.
There was last week when she stopped by his office during lunch and saw him licking his fingers after a bag of Wotsits. Mesmerized by the sight of his fingertips caught between his lips, the muted wet pop as he released them. She didn’t know if she wanted her fingers in his mouth or his fingers in her mouth or perhaps his fingers someplace else entirely. But she did know she needed to maintain her composure, ask the question she came to ask, and then quickly escape to the safety of her office.
There was the post-match celebration at The Crown and Anchor last month when a rowdy patron crashed into Ted, sloshing beer down the front of him. In his usual easygoing fashion, Ted simply gave him a pat on the back and said, “Don’t worry about it, I got some layers to spare,” before signaling Mae to grab the gentleman a glass of water.
He pulled off his jumper, revealing a white Richmond polo, the outer fabric clinging to it and exposing a wide swatch of his stomach before he freed himself and yanked the hem back down. Rebecca took a long sip of her gin and tonic, covering the fact that she had been staring, imagining pressing a kiss to the smooth skin above his hip bone.
Sometimes her thoughts were achingly tender; visions of threading her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp or holding his face in her hands, letting her thumb smooth across his mustache and trace along his laugh lines. And there was that lock of hair, the one that often fell loose across his forehead as he talked. She’d now lost count of how many times she’d itched to be the one to push it gently back into place.
And sometimes her thoughts were filthy. Yesterday, in the middle of Biscuits with the Boss, Ted had leaned forward to show her a picture on his phone, palm pressed flat against her desk. A mental image sprung forth unbidden: his arms and hands framing her own on the shiny surface as he bent her forward over it, her skirt rucked up around her waist, his panting and whispering loud in her ear. She’d had to ask the real him to repeat what he was saying, hoping her voice didn’t give away how flustered she felt.
But on top of all of this maddening awareness of Ted as a human man was an awareness that they were friends, proper friends now, and what they had was something precious and valuable.
And here she was with his leg in her hands, having heard that fucking moan. A vulnerable sound that he definitely noticed her noticing, and she noticed him noticing her noticing, and this was going to be her bloody breaking point, wasn’t it?
She didn’t look at him again for a long time, concentrating only on the movement of her fingers, letting silence settle heavily around them for a bit.
“‘ppreciate you taking care of me like this, Rebecca.”
There was something so tender and intimate about hearing her name in his mouth, his gratitude so apparent, and it cut through her jumbled thoughts.
“I’m happy to.” She wondered if the words sounded affectionate, if they matched the swelling feeling in her chest. “Anytime.”
She let go of his calf and gave his knee a small pat, signifying that she was finished for now. He turned away and let his leg drop, flexing it, pointing his toe and then angling it back towards his body, stretching.
“How does it feel? If it keeps bothering you, you could schedule some time with Gail? Or I could book you an appointment with my massage therapist?”
“I think you’ve got the magic touch, Boss. Loose as a goose. And I think I’ve learned a valuable lesson about properly stretching before exercise. Always been sort of a do as I say and not as I do situation.”
“Ice and heat can be useful as well.”
“Nah, it’s not as bad as all that. I’ll just take it easy for a couple of days.”
“Alright,” she smiled at him, and he smiled back, and the air felt electric, and for a few seconds that felt like five hours, she actually thought he was going to lean in and kiss her.
“Probably time for me to scoot my boot on home.” He suddenly sprung into action, putting his shoes back on and standing up to get the rest of his things.
“Of course, yes, it’s late. I should be on my way too.”
“Want me to wait while you close up shop? Walk you out?” He already had his trusty backpack on, thumbs looped under the straps.
She suddenly felt frustrated, although it was unclear whether it was with him or herself, and shook her head with a tight smile.
“I still have to send a few emails, so please don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you on Monday.”
He lingered before turning to go.
“Night, Boss. Have a great weekend.”
“You as well. Goodnight, Ted.”
—
Rebecca had woken up the following day with a determination to distract herself from whatever it was that didn’t happen the night before. She had plenty to focus on that had nothing to do with one particular mustached American, things that wouldn’t irrevocably change a dear friendship or complicate the dynamics at the club. And after a hard workout, a long hot shower, and a leisurely breakfast as she read on the patio, she felt more like herself. Like there was more room in her brain again.
That immediately went to hell when the doorbell rang and Ted was standing on the other side. And not Ted as she was used to seeing him at work, but Ted in jeans and a buttondown with the sleeves rolled up and what appeared to be a large pastry box in his hands.
“Ted? What are you…was…was I expecting you?”
“No, no. Sorry to drop in on you unannounced, Boss. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He let his eyes quickly dart down and back up, taking in her loungewear, her hair soft and loose around her face. “Was headed home from the bakery and thought I’d drop by with a thank you for your healing hands.” He held the box towards her and kicked his left leg out a little for reference. “But I won’t keep you.”
Her thoughts short-circuited as she tried to grab onto a plausible reason to ask him inside and, as a result, simply blurted, “No, stay.”
He laughed at the command, amusement in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
Ted followed her into the house, taking off his shoes and coat and letting her lead the way to the sun-lit kitchen. “Lotta ovens,” he noted absently.
“I would offer you some tea, but…” She smiled knowingly.
“Quite alright, Boss. How about a glass of tap water?”
“That I can do.” She busied herself at the sink, trying to settle the nervous energy sparking underneath her skin.
She handed him the glass and perched on one of the chairs, giving a slight nod for him to do the same, before opening the thin cardboard box. Her delight was evident as she found a large strawberry danish, along with a few Chelsea buns, almond croissants with icing sugar, and pain au chocolat nestled inside, still warm and aromatic.
“Care to split this danish, Ted?”
“If you don’t mind sharing, I know how you feel about other people eating your biscuits.” He smiled, poking fun.
Rebecca shook her head, blushing. “Well, those biscuits are special.”
She tried to settle into the conversation as they ate, listening to stories about various team antics at training over the last week. She asked for Ted’s thoughts on planning a surprise party for Leslie and Julie’s upcoming 30th anniversary, reminded herself that this was a perfectly lovely brunch-y moment with a friend and she should enjoy it as such. He told her about Henry’s science fair project, something about floating eggs, and she told him that she’d joined her mother’s book club and was halfway through the latest Brene Brown book, and if she was also thinking about his forearms as they chatted, what of it?
By the time he got up to leave, she was already mentally congratulating herself for acting so normal, truly a gold star performance. And then he leaned in to kiss her cheek goodbye, flooding her senses with the smell of his shampoo and the scratch of his mustache against her skin. As he turned away, with blood rushing in her ears, she swallowed hard, licked her lips, and took a chance.
“I think you missed.”
“Oh?”
He was looking straight at her, and Rebecca knew how much she wanted him must be written on her face, given the way he faltered for a second, eyes going wide. But then it was clear the feeling was mutual when he shifted forward and tentatively reached out to put his hands on her waist.
“Oh.”
She nodded in confirmation.
He drew her closer as her arms went around his neck, and when their mouths collided, she felt all of it: every sidelong glance, every smile that felt like it was just for her, every time she made him laugh. The weight of what had been building between them for the past few months, the past year even, to this exact moment, was crashing over her, and when his tongue slid against hers, it sent a jolt directly between her legs.
Ted kissed her with his entire body, hands trailing up and down her arms, her sides, tangling in her hair; she wondered how long he’s wanted to do this too, how long they’d both been carefully dancing around it. Then he’s trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck, and the only thing she’s wondering is how to get her hands on more of his skin. She pulled him backward, bodies still flush, both taking unsteady steps until she could feel the hard edge of the kitchen table pressing into her lower back, and she found the hem of his shirt with her fingers.
He stopped to check in with her, leaning back, his eyes dark and hair mussed.
She shook her head before he even had a chance to speak. “I want this. Have been wanting this.”
He still had an unspoken question in his expression, so she voiced what she had only recently begun to acknowledge to herself.
“And I don’t just mean something physical,” she paused and then smirked. “Although I do want that very much right now.”
He blew out a breath, relieved and in awe, smiling as he traced a thumb across her eyebrow and then let his hand drop to her shoulder. “I didn’t let myself think that…I couldn’t…” He’s at a rare loss for words, but she knew because she knew him, understood that he would never put the burden of his feelings or attraction on her unless he was completely sure she reciprocated.
She tugged on his sleeve, grinning. “I’m glad you aren't in your usual six layers today; we would be here for fucking forever trying to get you out of them.” It broke the tension, and he grinned too, wrapping her in his arms again, kissing her deeply, one hand sliding up the back of her shirt.
She worked his buttons open slowly, stumbling every time he found the ticklish spot on her ribs, laughing and squirming away. He nipped the shell of her ear and whispered, “You better believe I’m taking notes,” before crowding closer, encouraging her to shift up and onto the tabletop. Once settled, with Ted standing in the vee of her spread legs, now bare-chested, she lightly trailed her nails across his stomach, cataloging the slight shiver it elicited. He caught her hands in his own, pressing a kiss to her wrist, her palm, lifting her arms upward, and she kept them straight so he could pull her top over her head.
There was something reverent, almost shy, about his movements once they were both shirtless. He slowly traced the dip of her collarbones and along the edge of her bra, between her breasts, barely brushing over her nipples through the fabric.
She cleared her throat. “Ted?”
“Hmm?”
Rebecca surged forward to kiss him instead of answering. It was hungry and impatient and crushing, and he instinctively understood the shift, shaken from his trance, matching her intensity as he unclasped her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders. She hooked her ankles around his legs to bring him closer, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, and rocked her hips forward, seeking more pressure, some friction.
He cupped her breasts in his palms, massaging her nipples between his forefinger and thumb, and then refocused his attention, sliding one hand down under the waistband of her joggers, grazing her underwear softly with his knuckles. She jerked forward, her breath catching, already so sensitive. He moved his lips to the curve of her shoulder, pressing wet kisses to her skin, and she tilted her head, exposing her neck to give him better access. He was alternating between tongue and teeth and gentle puffs of breath, and when he started trailing down to the tops of her breasts, she squeezed her eyes closed and dug her fingers into his back.
Ted brushed against her clit again, harder this time, and then dragged both her joggers and her pants down her legs and off completely, dropping them to join the other articles of clothing on the floor. Before she fully realized what was happening, he was down on his knees with his hands on her ass, dragging her closer to the edge of the table, letting her legs dangle over his shoulders.
He kept teasing, pressing kisses to her stomach, inching lower, and she tightened her hands in his hair. She was already trembling, breathing fast, and when he finally put his mouth where she wanted it, she couldn’t help but start laughing, overwhelmed with sensation. He licked a long line up her opening and then settled into a steady rhythm, short licks with the tip of his tongue, varying the pressure. He let her climb and then backed off, pushing up into her wet folds before returning to her clit again, repeating the pattern until her body was shaking and curling forward. This time he didn’t let up, kept lapping at her hard and fast until she came with stars behind her eyes, heat radiating off her skin, the sound of her gasps and groans reverberating through the spacious room.
He was gently kissing her inner thighs, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her legs, as she returned to proper consciousness and her breathing evened out. Rebecca was thinking about his knees, which must be hurting, and how as soon as she trusted herself to stand, she would be ridding him of his jeans and getting her mouth on him. But Ted had other plans, catching her eyes with his right as he pushed his tongue into her, deeper than before.
“Oh fuck.”
She let herself fall backward entirely, one arm across her eyes and her hands tightening into fists. Ted trailed his hands from her ankles to the top of her thighs, laying one arm firmly across her lap to anchor her in place. He gently sucked on her clit as he replaced his tongue with one finger, sliding easily inside her, and then added a second, pumping in and out, curling against her walls. The aftershocks of her first orgasm started to grow more demanding as he kept a steady pace, and soon she was coming again, clenching around his fingers, almost silent as it crested and overtook her.
He stood as she sat up and released her bottom lip from her teeth, smoothed his thumb over the indent they had left, looked at her with so much care it almost hurt, something bone-deep.
“My god, Ted Lasso.” The words were soft and ragged. She could barely believe that expression was for her, let alone the result of him bringing her to orgasm twice, in the middle of her kitchen, with his trousers still on.
“Right back at ya.” His other hand came up and he rested his palms on her cheeks, framing her face, kissing her forehead, and sighing contentedly against her skin. “That was… something else.”
That tendril of hair was loose again, and now she didn’t stop herself, pushing it back as she raked her fingers through his hair. “Shall we relocate somewhere more comfortable? Give your poor knees a break?”
“Yep, there’s no getting out of it. I’m gonna be stiff tomorrow. Worth it, though.”
“Tomorrow?” she smirked, sliding her hand down to press her palm to the bulge in his pants. “Seems like you’re rather stiff already.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled at her touch, laughing. “Rebecca Welton with a sexy pun? Today is just one surprise after another.”
She led him up the stairs and down the hallway, holding hands the whole way, into her bedroom. The blinds were tilted up against the light, making it feel much later in the day than it was, and in the dim light, she stripped off the rest of his clothing and guided him into place, straddling him in the center of the bed. She was working her mouth across his skin, mapping out every freckle and scar under her lips, with one hand wrapped tightly around him, moving slowly, occasionally swiping her thumb over the tip; every delicious noise he made filed away in her mind for next time.
“Rebecca?” It’s strangled, forced out.
She smiled, sensing the opportunity to reverse roles from earlier, and couldn’t help but play dumb, letting go of his cock and nipping lightly at his side as he twitched under her. “Hmmm?”
Ted moved to flip them suddenly, pressing her into the mattress, and she let out a surprised squeak. He kissed her, quick and chaste, and pulled away to study her face. “Is this okay… I mean, do you want to… because we don’t have to… and do we need any…” She was grinding up into him very distractingly.
“God, yes I want to, and no, I have an IUD and a clean bill of health."
“Okay, okay, me too. To the second part.”
He readjusted himself between her legs, canting his hips to slide against her. His fingers interlaced with hers above her head, her arms lightly pinned, and she could already feel tension building low in her belly again when he lined himself up and pushed inside her, moving slowly at first.
Her legs were around his middle, ankles locked, the press of her heels into his back urging him deeper when he started talking, half poetry and half nonsense, a steady stream of worship and admissions of how much he’d wanted this mumbled against her neck. She’d never been one to talk much during sex but found herself responding with murmured praises and reassurances as she held him close. He came first, panting and shuddering through the release, and before he pulled out, he snaked his arm between them to rub tight circles on her clit, and it didn’t take long for her to follow, pulsing around him.
They’re both sweaty and wrung out, boneless and heavy on the duvet as they lay facing the ceiling, limbs still overlapping, not completely ready to stop touching. There’s so much they should talk about, but Rebecca’s head felt too fuzzy. Practicalities could wait until after they’ve washed up, until they’re back in the bright light of midday with clearer minds and clothed bodies. Ted seemed to read her thoughts, simply drawing patterns on her skin with the tip of his finger, his eyes closed, a peaceful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Eventually, she peeled herself from the bed to clean up in the en-suite bathroom and then Ted followed suit. When he returned, she was lying on her side, knees bent, an unexpected knot of dread growing in her chest, and he curled up behind her, his nose pressed against the back of her neck, one arm looped around her middle.
“So that was new.”
He chuckled into her hair. “Certainly was.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
He hmmed. “Taking you out on a date. Holding your hand. Learning about all your weird and embarrassing habits. Teasing you about said habits.”
Rebecca half-smiled, his easy confidence already pushing down her worst thoughts and fears, but she couldn’t help but ask anyway.
“You aren’t worried this is a mistake? I…I don’t want to lose you. What if something goes wrong?”
He squeezed her hip. “Hey. What if it goes right?”
She rolled over to face him and he gave a little shrug. “I don’t take second chances lightly, and if you’re in this for real, then so am I, with my whole head and my whole heart for as long as it makes sense. And if it ever stops making sense, I won’t have any regrets.”
Rebecca wished she had his calm clarity, but she did want to believe. “I’m in it for real.”
“Does that mean we don’t have some tough stuff to figure out? Heck no. There’s what this means for our jobs and the club, how and when to tell Henry, probably some unpacked baggage from our respective marriages, stuff in the future we don’t even know about yet… But we gotta take it bird by bird, baby.”
She was relieved to hear him name some of her biggest worries but scrunched up her nose at the unfamiliar expression.
“Oh. Means to take daunting things one small piece at a time. It’s from a book about writing by Anne Lamott, ‘cept you don’t need to be a writer or anything to glean some tasty morsels of truth about life from it. Ooh, I can lend you my copy.”
Her wry smile said he’d gotten off track in his excitement.
“Right, all I’m sayin’ is, we’ll figure it all out, one step at a time, together.”
“Alright, Coach.” Her tone was light and playful, but Rebecca could tell why the players responded to his teaching style: supportive, down-to-earth, kind.
“So what should our first step be? Something easy to get us started.”
“Hmm, I think we’re both in need of a shower,” her eyebrows arched suggestively.
He gave her a wink in return.
“Now that we can definitely tackle together.”