18. Eighteen Freya
Eighteen: Freya
K aleb had enjoyed my floundering after his little comment, but it confused me even more. He’d made it clear that despite his attraction to me, we couldn’t be anything. I’d believed we would be friendly with each other, but then Kaleb came out with that .
I had to brush off the comment, though. It was teasing. He wanted a reaction. It didn't mean as much as I thought it did.
He refused to tell me how much fixing my car had cost him. I still wasn't sure if he'd done it himself or paid someone else to fix it, but I accepted I wouldn't get an answer to that query, either.
My mom and I hadn't spoken much about the issue regarding my father. His company didn't actually exist, and there was nothing we could do about it until the police showed a sliver of interest. I’d given up texting and calling him—as had my mother. We knew we wouldn’t get a response.
I was sitting in Hannah's bedroom, staring off into the distance as I reminisced how Kaleb's lips had felt when so close to my ear five days ago in the kitchen.
I like women only one type of wet.
I shivered.
“Are you writing any of this down?” Hannah said, yanking me from my delicious daydream. My eyes rounded, and I gazed down at the empty sheet of paper in front of me, my ballpoint pen hanging limply from my fingers. She laughed, shaking her head. “This project is due in one week, Freya, and we've done nothing.”
I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, grinding my teeth and shaking my head, attempting to rid Kaleb from my brain. “Right, I'm sorry. Let's do this.”
The topic we’d been given didn't interest me—the history of Fine Art. However, it was a crucial part of the course and had to be done if we wanted a good grade. It was our final year.
“What are you thinking about?” Hannah teased, cocking her head at me as she sat up in her bed. “Your hot bodyguard lover?”
“He's not my lover, Hannah.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that's what they all say. You kissed and expect me to believe you aren't thinking about him?”
“Well, don't get your hopes up. He's leaving in early January, and I don't know if I'll see him again after that.” My own words caused my insides to crawl, and I sighed. The thought of never seeing Kaleb again—I didn’t like it.
“Freya.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “He fixed your car for you—free of charge! Guys don't just do that for any girl. Listen to me when I tell you that you will be seeing him again. You want to hear my advice?” She beamed at me—a kind of smile that held an evil undercurrent to it—and I mentally cringed. She could be sneaky and manipulative when she wanted to be, but I kind of loved it—when it didn’t involve me.
“Not really. You scare me sometimes.”
“Shush. He says you need to forget about the kiss, but then he flirts with you. He clearly has feelings for you he can’t suppress, but is denying it because he knows he can't take back what he said about not taking it further. If he wants to flirt, then you flirt too, but better.”
I arched my brow. “Better?”
“Better,” Hannah confirmed. “The best part about being a woman is that we can use our body to our advantage.” She smiled that same wicked smirk.
I shook my head frantically. “I don’t know if I want to play any games, Hannah.”
“Kaleb started it. You'd be rude not to join in. He can’t flirt and then expect you to think nothing of it. See it as a challenge, and last time I checked, Freya Henderson doesn't back down from a challenge.”
She had a point.
“Are you trying to manipulate me?” I laughed.
“Yes, but for the right reasons.”
I grinned. Kaleb wanted to see me squirm? Well, I was going to make him sweat. Buckets. He wanted to tease me like it was nothing and then leave early January? Fine, but I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
“Tell me what I need to do.”
Hannah tilted her water bottle as it hovered above my head, allowing its contents to trickle down my face. I laughed, smearing as much of it as possible over my neck and chest. My hair was pulled back into a tight, high ponytail, and I was dressed in one of Hannah's tiny sports bras and a pair of spandex blue running shorts. They were short. A little too short.
“I think I need a bigger size,” I said as I tried shoving my breasts back into the sports bra, grunting as they continued to spill out from the top.
“No, it's perfect.” Hannah laughed, fiddling with her own workout gear. Although, she had leaned towards a more modest look, insisting she wanted all the attention on me.
“Okay, do I look sweaty enough?” I gestured to myself as we hung around on the corner from Kaleb’s house.
God, I hoped he was home. Otherwise, this would be a complete waste of time.
Hannah shot me a thumbs up, and I began the jog down the sidewalk, panting as if I'd just run a mile. I pushed open the front door, exhaling heavily.
Kaleb and Brent immediately caught my attention, and I mentally thanked whoever was watching me up above. Somebody had my back. Bracing my hands on my knees and pretending to catch my breath, Hannah followed in after me, wiping at her 'sweaty' forehead and pulling her headphones out of her ears. I was willing to bet money that they weren’t even playing any music.
“That was our best time yet,” Hannah said with pride as she checked her phone, nodding to herself.
“Good.” I smiled, ensuring that I was leaning over enough, my ass facing Kaleb. Hannah subtly widened her eyes at me, signalling that we had caught the boys' attention, and I turned with fake surprise, smiling at both of them. “Oh, hi.”
“Freya,” Brent greeted me, his eyes raking over my body for a split second before he composed himself, taking a deep breath, appearing embarrassed. “You guys been running?”
Hannah nodded, leaning against the wall and throwing me her water bottle. I took a few tentative sips, pulling my hair from its ponytail and flirtatiously shaking it out. I made my way over to the guys, settling down on the couch close to Kaleb. He was looking down at me with a taut jaw, his brows scrunched together and his body rigid. I crossed my arms over my chest, causing my breasts to spill out of my bra even more, and his eyes snapped to them for a split second before he cleared his throat, dropping his gaze.
“What have you two done today?” I questioned as I focused on the boring TV show they’d been watching.
“We just got back from shooting,” Kaleb said huskily, twisting the rings he was wearing around his fingers to distract himself.
God, I loved a man who wore jewellery.
“Oh, yeah? How was it?”
“He kept missing,” Brent interjected, causing Kaleb to shoot his friend a sharp glare. “He was distracted as hell today.”
“What was distracting you?” I stood up again and kept my eyes on him, moving over to grab the TV remote to change the channel, although I was really just using it as an excuse to stand up again. I wanted Kaleb to know that if he was going to flirt with me, then this was what he was going to face as a repercussion. I would parade around in skimpy outfits, and he would have to act like it didn't bother him—just like I did when he teased me.
His penetrating grey eyes raked over my body, and he inhaled deeply, his tongue swiping along the front of his teeth.
Somebody wasn’t happy.
“Oh, Freya,” Hannah said from across the room, holding her phone up. “I was texting Ty, and he asked when you were free for dinner?”
The big finale.
Kaleb's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head towards me, his glare holding an emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint.
I pretended to think, placing my hand on my hip. “Um, let him know that I'll give him a text.”
“The waiter?” Kaleb’s voice was slightly husky.
I smiled at the TV.
Hook, line, and sinker.
I turned towards him, raising my brows. He was now standing, his form tall and tense. He wasn't standoffish or demanding, but there was an underlying hint of resentment to his words.
“I mean, he thinks I have a boyfriend, remember?” I smiled, nodding towards him with crossed arms. “But I could just tell him we broke up.”
Kaleb hummed, and Brent coughed, sensing the awkwardness in the room. “Kaylee is expecting me,” he mumbled. “I'm going to go.”
Hannah also took the hint and smiled, ducking out of the house.
Perching back down on the couch with a sigh, Kaleb turned his attention to the television, grinding his teeth together as he tried to hide his displeasure.
This was the last part of Hannah's plan. I didn't want to do it, and I was going to be embarrassed as shit, but she’d insisted that this was a crucial step. “You didn't answer me about what had you so distracted from your shooting. I thought you never missed?”
Kaleb shrugged, his eyes lingering on me. “Just this and that. My mind’s busy.”
Well, that was vague.
Opening up my mouth to speak, I took a step, pretending to trip, tumbling forward and bracing my hands on Kaleb's thick thighs. He caught me, his huge hands latching onto my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh.
I gulped. Having him so close made my logic soar, and it was clear I wasn't the only one. Kaleb's nostrils were flared, and he swallowed, appearing to be holding his breath.
I needed to step away, but it was as if I was rooted to him—our cells intertwined and impossible to separate.
His thighs tensed under my touch, and the pair of dark jeans he was wearing suddenly became an enemy to me. They were the only thing between the palms of my hands and his muscles. I wanted them gone.
After allowing myself to enjoy the moment for another second, I cleared my throat, pulling back. “Sorry, I tripped,” I said, trying to brush it off, offering him an innocent smile. “I’m going upstairs. I’m in need of a shower.”
I turned and walked away without another word, hearing Kaleb inhale sharply from behind me, causing a grin to appear on my lips.
Hannah, you genius.