"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.

"I feel guilty," I said, pausing to see if anything flashed in his eyes.

Teddy just wrinkled his brow. "Why? I probably would have gone even if you didn't want to join. But you did, and I had fun. That's the sweetener. If it had been a dull night, this story would sting a lot more."

It sounded like I was in the clear, but I failed to feel proud of deceiving him so well that he didn't suspect me at all. Did he really trust me that much already?

"I encouraged you to sing with her."

He shook his head. "Lacey would have worn me down eventually. When she wants something, she doesn't stop 'till she gets it."

"And does she want you?" I probed with a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood again.

With a twinkle in his eye, Teddy placed his steaming mug down onto the coffee table and stretched out his legs, nudging my ankle with his toes.

"Would you be jealous if she did?"

"No."

He laughed, seeming neither offended nor surprised by my response. "It'll blow over. It always does. Something new will come out tomorrow and this will be old news. I just need to avoid Helen until then."

Although he'd dodged my question, I didn't push it. Prying for information on Teddy and Lacey so soon after the article risked making me look suspicious. If he didn't consider me responsible in any form—directly or indirectly—I needed to keep it that way.

"I did have something to ask you actually, Soph. I wanted to speak to you about it in person."

"Uh-oh. Have you lured me here under false pretences?"

With another laugh, Teddy shook his head. "Not at all. I wanted your company. Helen has been driving me mad and you're a calming influence."

"Glad I come in useful."

He nudged my leg again, this time his toes lingering longer against my jeans. "You know what I mean."

Despite the cotton and denim barriers between his skin and mine, a wave of heat snaked up my calf and settled between my thighs.

"Go on," I said, desperate to stay on track regardless of my body begging for a detour. "What did you want to ask me?"

"I'm an idiot for not thinking of it. But, when we were dancing..."

As he paused, I held my breath. Please don't ask whether it turned me on. Acknowledging how much I'd let myself go would open a can of worms, and Becca would kill me if anything more happened, so we needed to act like I hadn't spent a small portion of the night writhing beneath his hands. It was bad enough suffering silently in his presence without actually acting on my body's pull towards him.

"There were a lot of people around," he continued. "It was very crowded. I didn't even think about your agoraphobia or how you might have felt."

Whatever I'd expected him to say, it wasn't that. I thought it was obvious how I'd felt on the dance floor. Recalling his hands beneath my top as I ground back against him elicited a delicious warmth deep with my stomach. Despite the many people around us, I'd been consumed with him, but maybe he was trying to show his sensitive side. So, I humoured him.

"I don't remember mentioning agoraphobia."

"Becca mentioned it. The night of the concert."

"Oh. To be honest, I was so nervous for Becca that night that any time the topic turned onto me, I was desperate to shift it back onto her."

Teddy shot me a small smile, one that almost looked guilty. "But were you okay?"

"Yeah, I was fine. I'm not sure you can call it proper agoraphobia. I don't want to take anything away from those who suffer from it worse than me."

Pinching his lips together, Teddy wrinkled his brow. "Mental health isn't black and white, Soph. You can suffer a little from something or a lot. Doesn't make it any less valid."

I shrugged. "I haven't always had it, that's all. A few years ago, I had a very distressing experience at a festival. It was rowdy, lots of people pushing... I didn't realise it at the time, but I had a panic attack. I felt trapped."

"I'm sorry. Sounds awful. I'm not surprised you felt that way."

"Clubs don't trigger me. I know I can easily step off the dance floor and get some space. It's more busy public transport or large, crowded areas... Places where I'd struggle to escape. Concerts, sports games... That kind of thing."

Nodding, Teddy picked up his drink again. "Good. We can avoid those places."

His phone then started vibrating on the coffee table, and he reached down to silence it.

"You can answer it," I said. "If you want me to step outside for privacy..."

He shook his head. "Thanks, but no. Honestly, I'm glad I'm getting away to Europe for a while. Although, all these interviews are bound to ask about Lacey now."

"Wouldn't they have asked anyway if there are already rumours around you two?"

"But they were just rumours. The story has been given credibility now that Lacey has added fuel to the fire. Helen will have to veto it as a topic."

"She can do that?" I asked, trying to conceal my surprise.

"Sure. If they want me in their magazine or on their site, they have to respect my wishes."

Sipping at his tea, Teddy stared out of the window. There had been no malice or arrogance behind his words, and I understood his point. Why blow the chance of an interview with one of the world's biggest stars just to ask a question that he probably wouldn't answer anyway?

"Is it not as simple as saying you want to keep your private life private?"

I expected him to laugh at my naivety, but he didn't. Drawing his eyes away from the view and back onto me, he pressed his lips together before parting them to speak.

"Sadly not. When you sign up for a life like mine, you sign away your right to privacy. I can't expect fans to give, give, give when I'm offering only part of myself in return. It wouldn't be fair."

"I suppose that makes sense."

Teddy flashed me a grin. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better, though. Honestly, what I'd give to have you alongside me in these interviews." He laughed and placed the mug down, then leaned back into the sofa, closing his eyes.

"You'll be fine. If you want me to help you run through any prep beforehand, I'd be happy to."

"You're the best." Once again, his toes brushed my ankle.

If only you knew.

*

On Tuesday evening, Becca met up with some work friends, so Gabby and I ordered a Chinese and binged half a series on Netflix.

"How's it going with Teddy?" she asked as we paused to clear away.

"Fine, I think. He's not got a clue it's me."

Gabby chuckled as she scraped leftover food into a Tupperware box. "You don't seem happy about that."

"Don't I?"

Snapping the lid shut, she twisted to face me and raised an eyebrow. "Soph, Bec's not here. Be real with me."

"Has Becca put you up to this?" I leaned against the counter and folded my arms.

"Not at all. I'm asking as your friend. Not hers. Off the record, so you can be honest without worrying about upsetting her."

"I'm doing it for her. That's what I keep reminding myself."

"You're struggling, then?" Worry flashed through her eyes, and I liked to think it was concern at my well-being rather than at the plan falling to pieces.

"Just with my conscience. How can he not suspect me at all? Am I really that deceitful? And is that something to be proud of?"

Gabby sighed and her gaze softened. "Sometimes you need to look out for yourself. Whether that means putting your interests before Teddy's or deciding this is making you too stressed to continue."

Shaking my head, I picked at my nails. "Bec has done so much for me. I can put up with a little guilt to pay her back."

I nodded back to the sofa, and we sunk into the worn cushions. Several times we'd said the sofa needed replacing, but then I'd quit my job and we'd never got around to it. A sofa suddenly seemed like a luxury, and while I knew my two friends would never demand I contribute towards a new one, I couldn't let them carry the cost alone when there were three of us living here.

Netflix remained paused, Gabby making no moves to resume it. Despite having a knack for unintentionally saying the wrong thing, she was a significant support. Over the years, she'd been the glue holding our group together.

"I think what makes it harder," I said, choosing my words carefully, "is that if I didn't know what he'd done to Becca, I'd actually quite like him. We get on well. But that's kind of the point, isn't it? I'm sure he got on well with Becca before he did what he did."

"The thing is... and I've not said this to Becca... but it's not the sex that was the hurtful part. She, too, chose to have sex. Nor is it the kicking her out. Yeah, it would have been nice for him to let her to stay, but he was under no obligation to do so."

"Yeah." I sighed. "It was what he said about me. Sleeping with her then saying he was interested in me? That's the hurtful part. I get it. And after Mike and Grant... Fuck... This is why I have to do it, Gabby. Regardless of how I feel. Because I've already fucked her over twice with guys... I need to step up this time."

"Soph, come on... Mike was fair game, and as for Grant... You don't know anything happened."

I raised an eyebrow. "I woke up in his bed with no recollection of the previous night. I think we can guess what happened."

"Still, they weren't together. He didn't even like her that way."

"No, but it was Grant."

Gabby bit her lip and lowered her eyes, usually a sign that she was holding back. I didn't blame her. All three of us were tired of talking about that night. We'd drawn a line under it. Becca had eventually forgiven me for waking up next to the guy she'd loved since her childhood, but it had continued to weigh heavy in my conscience.

Clicking resume on Netflix, Gabby pulled the sofa throw over us and then flicked off the table lamp. As the TV show illuminated the room, it enlightened me, too.

However I felt about Teddy, I owed Becca more.

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

***

Those of you who've followed me for a while will know that I like to include little snippets of my own life in my stories. That might be events that have happened to me, traits that belong to my friends, or--in this particular case--mental health struggles. I don't talk much about my battle with mental health, but it consumed my life for several years before I eventually got a handle on it. 

Sophia's battles are mine. While I strongly believe that there should be more mental health representation in stories, I also believe it should be depicted accurately. So that's why I have taken the plunge and included my own experiences. I don't want to write about struggles that I haven't gone through myself for fear of misrepresenting them, but I do think we need to remove the stigma and talk more openly. For anyone out there who is fighting a battle, please know you are not alone.