Chapter 2 #3
Freya couldn’t help but laugh at the hopeful smile on her friend’s face. “That’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”
She could use all the distractions she could get this evening.
Besides, the more people she met, the better.
Though she’d worked at the resort for a little over a year, she’d only moved to Hudson Island a month ago and was still settling in.
Aside from Hazel and Maya, she only knew a handful of other coworkers who lived on the island, so it wouldn’t hurt to meet more people.
Even though her work as a hairstylist had her talking to strangers on a regular basis, she was an introvert.
An introvert who did a damn good job pretending to be an extrovert.
Truthfully, the only reason she knew Maya was because she’d ridden Hazel’s 1000 percent extroverted coattails.
Since Hazel was always running late, she’d gotten to know Maya as she sat at the bar waiting for her friend.
“Oh my God, he’s here,” Hazel whispered, straightening her shoulders and waving.
Freya turned and bit back a laugh. The man making his way toward them—with his focus entirely on her friend—was exactly as Hazel had described.
Hot hot. Like he’d walked right out of a soap opera.
Of course Hazel and this guy had hit it off.
The two of them together made Ken and Barbie look pedestrian.
“Ladies,” he said, standing behind their stools.
Hazel beamed at the man. “Carmichael, this is my friend Freya that I was telling you about.”
“Hi,” Freya said, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, shaking her hand. “Do you mind if I join you two for a drink?”
Freya waved at the open seat on the other side of Hazel. “Not at all.”
The moment he sat, Hazel swiveled his way, peppering him with questions. The only pause came when Maya came and took their dinner and drink orders.
Freya listened with half an ear as Hazel was all smiles, compliments, and chatter. It was like they hadn’t had the craziest workday ever. Like they hadn’t hid under their workstations and behind their salon chairs as a man beat up his estranged wife and shot up the salon.
A shiver tore through her. Had that really been only a few hours ago?
Freya couldn’t blame her friend. People processed things differently. Apparently, Hazel’s process included flirting, giggling, and tossing her hair.
Freya bit back a cringe. Yikes. Snarky much?
She had to give Carmichael credit, though.
The man did try to involve her in some of their conversation, asking what Freya did at the resort, and how she and Hazel knew each other.
But every time he tried to include her, Hazel steered the conversation back to herself.
Which was fine, because as Freya listened to Hazel talk about some sort of weight machine at the gym, a wave of exhaustion washed over her.
“You good, lady?” Maya asked, refilling her water glass.
“Thanks. And yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes as she tilted her head toward their friend. “I think the day is catching up to me.”
“Your food should be out shortly. That will help with the adrenaline crash.” Maya gave her a sympathetic smile and headed toward the opposite end of the bar.
Freya leaned back in her barstool and stifled a yawn. She was done. All she wanted to do was eat her dinner, let the steak and mashed potatoes soak up her two drinks, and head home.
She took a gulp of water and then slid from her barstool, tapping Hazel on the arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Hazel glanced at Freya’s water glass and frowned. “Do you want me to order you another drink? On me?”
Freya shook her head. “I’m good, but thanks.”
She made her way to the restroom, took care of business, and then took her time washing her hands and finger-combing her hair.
She didn’t want to be irritated with Hazel but could admit she was definitely on her way there.
She’d hoped to talk with her friend about what they’d gone through today.
While she was beyond grateful no one had been hurt, the entire ordeal had left her shaken.
Still. Even after a few hours had passed.
It was obvious Hazel’s focus was now on Carmichael. Which, again, was fine. But after the day she’d had, being the third wheel was the last thing she wanted.
Letting out a weary sigh, she met her gaze in the mirror. “Eat dinner and go home,” she murmured. She could figure out her feelings on her own. Like always.
Squaring her shoulders, she left the restroom. At the end of the hallway, she turned the corner and came to an abrupt halt.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, nearly crashing into a man.
“So we meet again, gorgeous.”
Brayden. She was too tired to hold back a cringe. He loomed over her, and his eyes were a little glassier than before. He’d obviously had a couple more drinks. At least.
“Excuse me,” she said, stepping to the left.
He stepped in front of her.
She tilted her head to the side. Seriously? “Can I get by?”
“How about we get that dinner?” He gave her an oily smile that turned her stomach.
Though they were still in the hallway entrance leading to the restrooms and he was blocking her, she was able to peek past him. Hazel and Carmichael were still cozied up at the end of the bar, and Maya was talking with another guest.
She shook her head. “No, sorry. I have a boyfriend, remember?”
“See, I don’t think you actually do.” He stepped closer, and she took a step back. “I think you’re just saying that.”
She stepped to the right, and he stepped in front of her.
Setting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. Anger and nerves had her heart racing and her voice rising. “I don’t care what you think. Now get out of my way.”
“Touchy,” he muttered, holding his hands up in capitulation and stepping to the side.
She quickly moved past him and caught Maya’s gaze before Brayden grabbed her wrist and turned her.
She yanked her arm free, and he held up his hands again.
“I’m sorry, Freya. Can we try again? I’m coming on strong because I think we’d be good together.
We could have a lot of fun this week. So can I buy you dinner? Get your number?”
Douche magnet. That’s what she was. “No, Brandon—”
“It’s Brayden,” he bristled.
Oh, good freaking God. “Whatever. I have a boyfriend, so no. I’m not giving you my number or having dinner with you.” She was conscious of the fact that they were drawing the attention of the people around them, but she didn’t care. The faster this guy got away from her, the better.
A smirk grew on Brayden’s smarmy face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Well, where is this supposed boyfriend of yours?”
Heat tore over her face. “I owe you zero explanations.” She spun and stalked toward the bar, making a beeline to the center where Maya was waving her over.
Brayden kept pace with her. “You’re at a bar by yourself accepting drinks from guys who aren’t your boyfriend. You’re asking to get hit on. No real man would allow that. I mean, what kind of man lets his girl talk up another guy at a bar?”
Her jaw dropped as she glared at him. Of course that’s what this d-bag would think.
“Those are some big words, bud,” Maya said, a smirk lifting her ruby-red lips.
A smirk that had Freya frowning. What was her friend up to?
Maya crossed her arms over her chest. “You gonna call out her boyfriend’s manliness to his face?”
“Absolutely.” Brayden scoffed as a haughty do-you-know-who-I-am expression settled over him. “If she actually had a boyfriend, I’d definitely tell him what’s what to his damn face.”
“By all means then,” a deep voice said. The grumbly baritone had the fine hairs on her arms standing at attention. “Feel free to tell me what’s what.”
Freya’s gaze shot to the left—to the man she hadn’t noticed standing beside Carmichael—and was rendered mute.
Holy. Crap.
How had she not seen him? Not only was the man enormous, but he was breathtaking.
Before she could blink, he was beside her.
His strong arm settled over her shoulders, and he tucked her close.
She had a split second to take him in, but that was all she needed.
Shoulder-length dark hair pulled half back into a bun, stunning dark-brown eyes, high cheekbones, a chiseled jaw with the sexiest five-o’clock shadow, full lips, and massive shoulders.
Her breath caught as he bent and dropped a quick kiss to her lips.
“Hey, baby.” A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “Sorry I’m late.”