Chapter 8
FREYA
Awolf whistle hits my ears as soon as I step out of the rideshare. For a moment, I panic, but then I look up and find my two friends smiling at me as they take in my outfit.
“Freya, you look banging,” Parker exclaims.
“Yeah,” Casey agrees. “This new job is already doing wonders for you.”
“Come on, let’s go and eat. I’m ravenous,” Parker says, threading her arms through ours and practically dragging us toward the entrance.
There is already a line of people trying to get in who haven’t booked, and being able to walk straight past them makes me even more grateful for my friends.
Casey and I have known each other for years since we grew up next door to each other.
But we were never overly close, seeing as she’s younger.
We were always at different stages of life.
Hell, I was her babysitter for a few years.
We always got on, though. And now, after leaving town for Las Vegas, and then the high life, all my old school friends have drifted off and done their own things.
I don’t talk to any of them now, and because I no longer go on social media, I have no idea what they’re doing.
But since being back, I couldn’t be more grateful for Casey and Parker’s friendship.
If it weren’t for them, I don’t doubt that I’d still be wallowing in my childhood bedroom.
They’ve dragged me back to life—sometimes kicking and screaming—and I’m incredibly grateful for it.
I’m also aware that my new job has something to do with them.
It wasn’t all that long ago that I confessed to wanting to go back to school for sports nutrition and Cole’s name was first mentioned.
I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But then, at Parker’s surprise birthday party, he shocked the hell out of me by making me the offer I never saw coming.
As Casey speaks to the host, it occurs to me that she’s right.
I may have bought this dress a few weeks ago while I was on a shopping trip with Mom, but I didn’t think it would be getting an outing any time soon. Yet, as I drove home tonight, it was the only option in my head.
Cole has done that.
Well, more specifically, his job offer has done that. Even in twenty-four hours, he’s given me a purpose, and I can’t believe how much better I feel because of it.
As I follow Casey and Paker to our table, I swear I stand even taller.
“What are you smiling about?” Parker asks as we take our seats.
“I think Casey is right.”
Casey scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Of course I’m right,” she teases. “But on this specific occasion, what am I right about?”
“That my job is good for me.”
“Question is, though, is it the job or is it Hansdy?” Parker teases.
“Definitely the job,” I confirm.
“I dunno, Handsy is hot. He’s got that brooding goalie thing down pat.
” I can’t help but laugh. Sure, I’ve seen Cole’s demeanor on the ice.
He’s laser-focused and determined. Hell, even a few times off the ice, he seems untouchable, larger than life.
But in his own apartment…well, he’s different.
He leaves some of his defenses at the front door.
He’s softer, more approachable, and easy to talk to.
“Don’t start getting any ideas,” I warn.
Parker isn’t wrong. Cole is hot. But I have to admit that he’s also scary as hell. He’s huge and nothing but pure muscle. I remember how hard his body is from dancing with him at the gala. I swear he’d be able to break a girl in two with very little effort.
I grab the menu and begin scanning through the options in the hope of ending that line of conversation.
Cole is my boss now, and from what I can gather from our surface-level conversation about the future, he doesn’t have a serious relationship on his radar. His life and focus are hockey, and I fully respect that.
I’m not sure if my move works, or if Casey takes pity on me, because the conversation changes, the focus shifting off me, for a little bit at least.
“Good evening, my name is Joe, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you ladies off with some drinks?”
“Bottle of champagne, please,” Casey requests. “We’re celebrating.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep, this one has a new job, and it’s kind of a big deal,” Parker explains, pointing at me.
“Well, congratulations. I’ll go and get that for you right now.”
“Do we have to tell everyone?” I ask quietly as he walks away.
“Hell yes, we do. Your wins deserve celebrating, Freya, and we’re here as your personal cheerleaders to make sure you do it in style.”
I can’t fight the smile.
“I appreciate you guys.”
“As you should,” Casey teases as our bottle of champagne appears before us. Joe pours Casey a small amount to taste before she gestures for him to fill us all up. He does and slips away again, giving us a few more minutes to decide on food.
“To Freya, to leaving the past behind us and focusing on a bright and successful future.”
I smile at my friend, a ball of emotion crawling up my throat and tears burning my eyes.
“To the future,” I whisper as I clink my glass against hers and Parker’s.
“I need a selfie to send to Summer,” I state after we’ve all had a sip.
“Yes,” Casey agrees, moving to stand behind us while I hold my cell out. We all smile at the camera, and I quickly shoot the picture to my cousin.
She replies almost instantly.
Summer: You look incredible. Enjoy your night out. You deserve it x
As expected, the food is incredible, and by the time I finish my dessert, I am one happy girl.
We’ve finished our bottle of champagne and have moved on to mocktails.
Thankfully, they’re just as delicious as if they had alcohol in them.
They’re also a harsh reminder that we’re no longer young enough to drink on a school night.
I have many fond memories of my time in Las Vegas working in a cocktail bar, but I can honestly say, none of them are of the occasions I found myself at work still drunk from the night before. I’ve certainly had finer moments.
We continue chatting long after our plates have been cleared, not ready to end our time together yet, when our server comes over with another trayful of drinks.
“These are courtesy of the man at the bar,” Joe says.
All three of us turn to look.
“Oh,” Parker breathes as our eyes land on a suited man with a martini in his hand. He lifts it to us before moving it to his lips for a drink.
My stomach knots as anxiety shoots through my veins.
“Holy shit, Freya. He’s looking at you.”
Hearing that Casey has registered the same thing as me has my heart beating even faster.
“And he’s hella hot,” Parker points out.
I swallow nervously before twisting back around and focusing on my new drink.
“You should go talk to him,” Casey encourages.
I shake my head. “We’re having a girls’ night.”
“So? Have you seen the way that suit fits him? Girl, that man could definitely show you a good time,” Parker exclaims.
“Like all the ones you hooked up with before settling with Linc.”
“Firstly, I didn’t settle with Linc,” Parker argues, making Casey laugh. “And secondly, none of them looked like that.”
“I’m really okay,” I tell them. I reach for my drink but hesitate before my fingers connect with the stem of the glass. Will he think I’m accepting something if I drink it?
What if he sees and comes over?
I tug my hand back and place it in my lap, hating the way my shoulders curl in. I’ve been sitting up straight all night. Why is it that a man I’ve never met before in my life has the power to send me back into my shell?
“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” Casey says supportively.
“What if I’m never ready?” I ask, voicing my concerns.
“You will be. Hell, you might already be,” Parker muses. “You just haven’t met the man who can prove it to you.”
“I don’t want to be scared, but I am,” I confess.
“It’s understandable. But you don’t have to go in for a relationship straight off the bat. A little bit of hot, rebound sex might sort you out.”
“Parker,” Casey laughs.
“What? You know I’m talking sense. Sometimes we just need to prove to ourselves that we can still ride the horse, if you know what I mean.”
“Even the tablecloth knows what you mean,” Casey teases before turning to me. “What are you scared of?”
“Having my heart ripped out and stomped on again.” As soon as I say the words, I want the floor to swallow me whole.
“I hate to say it, but maybe Parker has a point.”
“Thank you,” the woman in question quips.
“Dating doesn’t have to be about relationships and commitment. It can just be about fun. About learning who you are now and what you want.”
“You think I should go over there and talk to him?” Even saying the words sends a shot of fear through me.
“No, I’m not saying that at all. But one day, you’ll meet someone who you’re not going to be so scared of, someone who might offer you a way to hop back up on that non-existent horse.”
“How long has it been?” Parker asks, lowering her voice a little.
“Um…”
“Say no more,” she laughs. “But again, Casey is right. Maybe Hot Suit Man isn’t the one, but one day there will be someone who excites you more than scares you.”
They’re right, I know they are. But right now, I’m finding it hard to believe.
“Are we going to drink these?” I ask.
“Too fucking right we are,” Parker says as she lifts her glass, looking across the restaurant to the man at the bar before taking a sip. “He should be thinking himself lucky; these would have cost him four times the amount if we were really drinking.”
“Shame he’s going to be leaving alone,” Casey muses.
“Nah, he’s going to turn his attention to someone else the second we leave, I’m sure,” I reason. It helps me feel better about rejecting him.
I know I’m not a man in an expensive designer suit, but I’d never have the guts to do something as brazen as he just did. Hell, I’m not even sure I could proposition someone over a message, let alone in person. The thought is terrifying.
Lingering rejection burns deep in my stomach. It’s easier to bear than it used to be. But it’s still there, along with a truckload of other issues my last relationship left me with.
Until I fully deal with them, I’m never going to be able to get back on the horse.
I’ll be nothing but a self-conscious, over-thinking disappointment.
No man wants a woman like that. They want women like the two sitting opposite me.
Strong, independent, fierce. It’s sexy as hell, and I’m fully aware that I am none of those things.
The girls try to distract me, but the truth is, I ruin my own evening by getting up in my own head. By the time my rideshare drops me home, all I want to do is strip out of my dress, pull on some sweats and a hoodie, and hide under a blanket.
Earlier, things were better; I felt like the old me again.
Progress won’t be linear or simple.
I have to hold on to that.