Chapter 19
There was no denying it: Anne was hungover. She had barely opened her eyes when the headache began pounding, each throb sending flashes of last night’s dinner party to her prefrontal cortex like she was scrolling through a social media feed. She winced and turned her face into the pillow.
God, why had she drunk so much? She had promised herself she would only have one glass, but the pinot just kept coming. Then all she remembered was laughing with James, inhaling Ellis’s cake, and acting like a complete and utter fool in front of everyone, including Freddie.
Her eyes shot open into the dimly lit room.
That’s right, Freddie Wentworth was there. At Ellis’s birthday party.
No no no no. Her mind flew back over what she could remember, trying to pinpoint if she had said anything embarrassing. It was a blur of wine and cake and laughter, but she was having a hard time recalling any crystalline moments.
She had to call James. He was the only person who would tell her if she had done something mortifying. Well, also Bev, but Anne knew that she didn’t answer her cell.
The room was fairly dark thanks to the lack of windows, so Anne groped the top of her nightstand, searching for her phone.
Then something shifted on the bed beside her.
She froze, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust, then slowly looked over to the other side of the bed.
Freddie was sprawled out on top of her comforter, still fully clothed in his jeans and sweater, hands clasped over his chest. He was asleep, his mouth slightly ajar and each breath punctuated by a slight purr.
With lightning-fast reflexes, she lifted the covers to check what she was wearing.
Oh thank God. Her old Trails End Camp T-shirt and a pair of black underwear.
She shut her eyes and exhaled a breath of relief that she was clothed, retreating under her comforter again.
Freddie probably wanted to make sure she didn’t puke before she passed out. That made the most logical sense. But why was he still here?
She snuck another glance at him. It was crazy to think she used to have unfiltered access to this view. Obviously not. Otherwise, why would she be so in awe of the slight curve of his full lips, or how his soft brown hair was mussed? It was all eerily familiar, but still completely new.
Suddenly her phone let out a loud PING from the nightstand.
Anne jumped just as Freddie’s eyes shot open. It took a moment for his gaze to focus, but when it did, it found hers. Frozen in place, they took each other in for one long, drawn-out second.
Then came another PING.
“Let me… just…” She reached over to her phone to check the screen.
THEO
Hey! Just double-checking that you’ll have the production schedule all set when we meet for coffee tomorrow? The network needs it ASAP.
THEO
Oh, and that possible crew list, if you’re still up for making it? Thanks!
She rolled her eyes and turned her phone over, so it was face down. When she turned back to Freddie, he was sitting up, his back against the wall where a headboard should be.
“Good morning.” He yawned, his expression still lax with sleep.
She offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Whatever I did that made you think you had to babysit me overnight.”
He gave her a weary grin. “You didn’t do anything. I escorted you home and you asked me to stay until you fell asleep. So I did.”
That’s right, she had asked him to stay. After she had talked to him about her old bedroom, her armchair, and… Spanish? The memory had still been sleeping somewhere inside her head, but now it was awake and loud and mortifying.
Her head fell into her hands. “Oh God.”
He chuckled to himself. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“I told you about my fake Instagram account, Freddie.”
“Yeah,” he replied, itching his jaw. There was a dusting of stubble there now. “I was going to wait until after coffee to ask you about that.”
She groaned. “Or we could just pretend I didn’t say anything and never speak of it again?”
He threw her a wry grin. “You know me better than that.”
She laughed softly, but then the full weight of his words settled in. She did know him better than that—or, at least, she used to. But now they kept finding themselves in this limbo of knowing everything about each other and not knowing each other at all.
The awkwardness felt thick now, and each passing second only added to it.
“I’m sorry, too,” he finally murmured, leaning forward to run his hands through his messy hair.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked.
“I don’t know how to do this, either.”
Her mouth pinched, trying to decipher what he meant.
He caught her expression and sighed. “I don’t know how to be strangers with you. But I also don’t know how to be just friends.”
Silence descended again. She wanted to tell him she knew exactly what he meant, that it felt so natural during moments like this, when for a second they forgot all the details that drove them apart.
“Freddie…” she whispered.
He stared at her in the dim light from the hallway, scanning her face, her mouth. She had the urge to just lean in, forget every concern she’d had over the past few weeks and…
Her phone pinged again from the nightstand.
Anne would have ignored it. She wanted to. But she knew Theo would only keep texting until he got a reply.
“Sorry, I have to just put this on silent,” she said, reaching for the phone. But before she could flip the sound off, she saw the message now waiting on her screen.
SOPHIE
Hey! One block away! See you soon!
Anne’s stomach dropped. “Oh my God.”
Freddie paused. “What?”
“It’s Sophie! I’m supposed to meet her right now!” Anne threw the blanket off and stumbled out of bed. “She’s going to be at the flower shop wondering where I am!”
She flew to her closet, barely looking at the jeans and sweater she tore from the shelves. She still had to review the spreadsheets and slides to make sure everything was correct before—
“Don’t worry,” Freddie said, moving to the edge of the bed to stand up. “My sister has never been on time for anything in her life.”
Anne scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I can be late. I’m never late. Being late is the worst! Especially since we have so much we need to go over. How will she be able to enjoy the launch party on Tuesday if she hasn’t had a chance to review all the budgets and expense tracking?”
He threw her a doubtful look. “Have you met my sister?”
Anne held her clothes in one hand and reached for the Eufloria folder with the other.
“Well, I won’t be able to enjoy it. She trusted me to help her save her business and I take that really seriously.
She’s been through so much this year—I can’t make her think that I don’t prioritize her and her business and… ”
He stretched as he was listening. It caused his sweater to rise up, and she caught a glimpse of his stomach, the soft trail of hair—
She darted her eyes away. Unfortunately, they darted to her own reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door.
“Oh my God. I didn’t wash my face last night,” she said, her hands running along the black smudges under each eye. “Why didn’t you tell me to wash my face?”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “You told me to stay until you fell asleep. I didn’t think that included skin care.”
How could so many things go wrong in just one morning? she thought as her gaze traveled to where her hair was knotted around her shoulders, the crease on her cheek from her pillow. There were too many things to be mortified by right now, too many details to remember and—
“Hey.”
Anne whipped her head around to find Freddie now standing just a few inches from her. There was a lopsided grin on his face as he reached up and brushed a tangle of knotted hair behind her ear.
“It’s going to be okay. Okay?”
His voice sent a familiar warmth around her body, loosening the tension and quieting her mind.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“You go get ready,” he said. “I’m going to head upstairs.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know why she was surprised. Of course he would go home. He didn’t live here. But that also meant that he’d be gone when she came back.
He watched her expression, then took a step toward her. “Come by when you’re done?”
Oh. Oh.
Her disappointment was suddenly replaced by a myriad of emotions that she didn’t know how to quantify. “Okay. I will.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the door. “Then you should probably hurry up. It’s not very professional to be late and—”
She rolled her eyes and pushed him away before he could finish, barely tamping her laughter as she rushed to the bathroom.