Chapter 13 Freya
FREYA
The guys won both their road games this weekend. And I watched both of them with Casey and Sutton. Kodie’s mom joined us for last night’s game. I insisted that I provide the food, so I did Mexican, and we spent the night grazing on nachos, tacos, and fajitas.
I didn’t accept the offer of more than one margarita to accompany it, though.
It was a school night, and Cole is back first thing this morning. I wanted to be fresh and ready. Although now, as I stand in his immaculate kitchen, I’m starting to wonder if a little bit of lingering tequila might have helped.
I’m nervous.
Really flipping nervous.
We’ve been messaging the whole time he’s been away. It’s been fun. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten giddy over messaging someone. It’s been a nice flashback to my younger years when life was exciting and I wasn’t drowning in my own mistakes.
The problem is, it’s still his messages that give me a little high, not the man I’ve agreed to go out with tomorrow night.
I wasn’t lying when I told Casey I’d agreed to the date. I had to. The way Cole’s messages were making me smile had alarm bells ringing left and right.
Maybe dating Levi would fix all that. It would give me another focus, insert another man into my life, so I don’t find myself obsessing over my boss.
I keep repeating that over and over in my head, hoping it’ll help, but it’s yet to make a difference.
Cole messaged me when he left the airport so that I could have his brunch ready. He should be here any minute.
I blow out a long, slow breath as I shake my arms at my sides.
It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be this nervous.
He’s just a man.
An unobtainable man.
Hell, I don’t even want a man.
And yet there’s one giving me butterflies that I can’t have.
I pace back and forth through the kitchen, waiting for that familiar sound of the front door opening. And the second it does, my heart lurches into my throat.
I swear all the air is sucked from the apartment as he walks in. There’s the unmistakable thud of his suitcase on the wooden floor before his heavy footsteps move this way.
Not wanting to look like I’ve been waiting for him, I spin around, turn the grill on to toast my homemade English muffins, and stir my hollandaise sauce.
“Honey, I’m home.” Cole’s deep voice booms through the apartment. I grit my teeth and close my eyes as a shiver rips down my spine. “That smells incredible.”
Steeling myself, I turn around with a wide smile. “Welcome home,” I sing.
He gives me a lopsided smile as he studies me. “I could get used to this,” he says, as I drop the poached egg into spinning, boiling water. I send up a silent prayer that it’s going to work the first time.
I know he won’t care if I mess it up and have to try again, but I really want to impress him.
I keep my eyes locked on the egg as it settles and breathe a sigh of relief. It looks okay. No, it looks better than okay.
He might be silent behind me, but his presence is unignorable.
I repeat the process with a second pan, hoping that I’ve got my timings right, before leaving the eggs unattended for a couple of minutes.
After placing his toasted muffin on the plate, I delicately lay slices of smoked salmon across them before returning for the eggs.
The moment the timer goes off, I lift the first egg from the pan and set it on the salmon.
I repeat with the second before topping them both with my sauce and garnishing with freshly ground black pepper and chopped chives.
Spinning around, I proudly place the dish before him, buzzing that I’ve pulled it off the first time.
“Wow,” he breathes. “And to think, you were worried about poaching eggs.”
“Luck was on my side,” I say as I return to the stove to do one more.
My stomach has been growling for hours, but I refused to eat. I’ve missed having meals together, and despite knowing it was probably safer to eat before he got here and leave the second he did, I couldn’t help myself.
“It’s not luck,” Cole says as I get the water spinning again. “It’s talent.”
I mumble a response that kinda sounds like agreement. Cooking comes naturally to me. It always has. I just never knew how much I enjoyed it, how much I enjoyed feeding others, until I had the option taken away from me.
“Freya,” he warns, clearly seeing through my lack of confidence.
Ignoring both him and the tingles his deep voice send skating through my body, I finish plating up my food before joining him at the island.
“So, how was your trip?” I ask, turning the conversation on him.
“Good. We won both games, as you know.”
“You look tired.” I gasp the instant I realize I made that assessment out loud.
But instead of being annoyed, Cole just barks a laugh.
“Traveling is exhausting. It doesn’t matter how many years I do it. It never gets easier.”
“Yeah,” I muse, understanding exactly what he means.
He studies me, his eyes searching mine for the words I’m not sure I’m ready to say.
“I was in a relationship with a musician,” I finally confess. “I travelled with him on and off for two years.”
He nods, taking in that information, and surprisingly, he doesn’t follow it up with a million and one questions.
“That makes sense.”
“What does?” I ask, my brows pinched.
“Your understanding. Most people think that we must be having the time of our lives while on the road. Don’t get me wrong, we have fun. But honestly, there’s nothing like coming home and being in your own space.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Although, I never actually had my own space to return to.
We lived out of hotels no matter where we were.
The only homes I’ve ever known have been my parents’ place or my apartment in Vegas, and that was about the size of a shoebox.
It was mine, though. And after a long night shift, it was heaven.
“I’ll head out once I’ve had this. Let you settle back in and have some peace. ”
“It’s okay. You’re welcome to stay. I…uh…I actually quite like having you here.”
My heart beats a little faster at his confession, and I duck my head as a smile pulls at my lips.
“I like being here. It’s…it’s not like I was expecting.”
“Oh? What was that?”
I shrug, feeling my cheeks heat. “A bachelor pad.”
“I have an Xbox and a huge TV; doesn’t that count?”
I laugh. “Of course. Everything else is just more homey than I was expecting. It’s nice. Welcoming.”
He looks around his home with a soft smile. I’d love to know what he’s thinking as he takes it all in, but I’m too terrified to ask. The less I know about him, the better right now.
“I’ve got a date tomorrow night,” I blurt, the words falling from my lips out of nowhere.
His brows shoot up in surprise as I push a forkful of food into my mouth.
Why did I say that?
“Okay. That’s cool. I’m more than happy to heat something up if you want to leave it for me while I’m at the arena tomorrow.”
“Oh, no. That’s okay. I can go from here.”
Cole frowns. “I mean it, Freya. Leave me some food and then get ready properly.”
My brows pinch, and something, disappointment, maybe, sits heavy in my stomach. I’m not sure what I wanted him to say, but it wasn’t that.
Liar. You wanted him to give you a reason not to go.
“Is it with the guy from the bar the other night?”
“Yeah. We’ve been messaging. He seems nice, and…” I trail off, unsure as to what I’m saying. “I haven’t been out since…since my ex. I’m not really sure if I’m ready.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look very excited about it.”
“I’m nervous. What if I’m not ready and he doesn’t read the signs? What if he’s expecting more than I’m willing to give?”
“Then you should end the date there and then and never speak to him again,” Cole states firmly.
“Y-yeah, I guess.”
“I’m serious, Freya. Any guy who treats you like that doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you.”
I can’t help but smile.
“Do you date?”
He shakes his head. “No. Too much of a distraction. My life is hockey. That’s the way it’s always been.” There’s more to it than just that, I can see it in his eyes, but he doesn’t want to spill.
“I’m going to head out,” I say once I’ve finished my meal. “I’ve prepped most of tonight’s dinner, so it won’t take me long later.”
“What do you have planned for the afternoon?”
I glance toward the windows at the spring sunshine.
“I was going to go for a walk, get some fresh air.”
Back before I spent most of my life on a tour bus, I used to run.
I’m not brave enough to take that up again.
I’m not as fit as I once was, and I know I’ll disappoint myself.
But over the past few months, I’ve been spending time at Runyon Canyon Park, walking the trails and enjoying the views.
It’s given me time to try and process my thoughts and figure out what my future might look like.
“Do you want a partner?” Cole asks, surprising me.
“Shouldn’t you be resting or something?”
“That’s what the off-season is for. Getting outside sounds perfect. Give me ten minutes to change, and we can go. If that’s okay with you, of course. If you want to go alone, all you have to do is—”
“No. I’d love it if you came.”
As Cole walks away from me, wearing his fitted suit pants and a shirt that wraps around his wide shoulders and muscular arms like a second skin, I curse myself.
I’m meant to be pushing thoughts of him from my head and focusing on my date tomorrow night. I’m not meant to be making plans for afternoon walking dates.
As promised, ten minutes later he’s back wearing a T-shirt, sweats, and a pair of hiking boots. He has a ball cap in his hand and a pair of sunglasses.
“Ready?” he asks as he approaches.
“You really don’t have to join if you’d rather just chill.”
“Anyone would think you don’t want to spend the afternoon with me.”
“What? No, I do. Of course I do. I just don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“Lucky for you, I didn’t have any,” he says, pocketing his cell and wallet. “Shall we?”
I follow him out of the apartment and into the elevator. The second we’re enclosed in the small space, the weight of my decision presses down on me.
My fondness for this man is growing too quickly. I need to put a pin in it before I ruin the opportunity he’s given me.
As we spill out into the parking garage, I scan the cars and cringe once again.
“I’ll drive,” I say, still feeling guilty for ruining his afternoon plans, even if he’s told me he didn’t have any.
“Okay,” he says before moving toward my rust bucket.
There’s no hesitation in pulling my passenger door open and climbing in. I’m pretty sure one of his Range Rover’s wheels costs more than my entire car, but he doesn’t seem to care.
It’s not until I join him that I realize what a colossal mistake this was.
My car isn’t small. Far from it. But with him sitting in my passenger seat, it suddenly feels like nothing more than a go-kart.