Chapter 38 Cole
COLE
“It’s been a few years since I’ve been in a girl’s childhood bedroom,” I deadpan as I step into the room behind Freya. She snorts a laugh, but her amusement doesn’t reduce the tension in her shoulders. “I didn’t often walk in through the door, though.”
“Oh no,” she teases, turning to face me. “Were you more a climb-through-the-window kind of boy?”
I smirk, fondly remembering times gone by.
“I can safely say a girl’s dad has never suggested I spend the night with his daughter in her bedroom.”
“I can’t say it’s ever happened around here before either,” Freya confesses, standing awkwardly at the end of her big bed.
Her room is exactly like I expected. Soft pastel colors, stuffies, and photos from her childhood. It’s cute, just like the woman who grew up in it.
Freya's eyes drop to the floor, and she begins chewing on her nail. “I can’t believe he…that he’s okay with…”
“Your dad loves me,” I counter, hating how nervous she is.
“A little too much, it would seem,” she mutters before darting toward her dresser.
She pulls out what I assume is a set of pajamas before moving toward a closed door on the other side of the room.
“I’m just going to…” She opens the door and steps in, but before she disappears, she looks up, her eyes finding mine.
“Make yourself at home,” she says with a soft smile. “I’ll just be…yeah.”
She slips into the bathroom and closes the door behind her, leaving me standing in the middle of the room.
I look around again, but the second my eyes land on a series of photographs, my legs take on a life of their own and I walk toward them, taking them all in.
There are photos of Freya, Amanda, and Brian over the years.
There are others of her with friends, at school, her graduation, what look like birthday parties.
Each one tells me a little more about the woman who is taking up more and more of my thoughts.
There are a couple with Casey, hanging out in the backyard in swimsuits, big sunglasses on their faces, and even bigger smiles.
Seeing her having such a happy childhood brings a smile to my own face. I always find it fascinating to look at what most people consider a normal life and upbringing. Mine was so vastly different from that, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if the “normal” life even exists.
But it does, and I love seeing the evidence that Freya grew up in a stable, loving home with two parents who adore her and friends who made her laugh.
I spend a few minutes checking out her bookcase.
It’s about as eclectic as mine is, with genres ranging from rom-coms to thrillers.
I pull out a couple of the well-loved ones, and after reading the blurbs, I take a quick photo of the covers so I can remember to add them to my list to read.
For all I know, these have come from the thrift store and she hasn’t even read them once, let alone a few times over, but I’m willing to give them a go on the off chance.
After pocketing my cell, I walk to Freya’s bed, sit on the edge, and brush my hand over the soft fabric of her sheets.
Silence fills the room, and without meaning to, my eyes drift to the door she’s hiding behind.
Is she in there freaking out? Probably.
Deep down, I know I should have pushed for sleeping on the couch. Not that I really think Brian would have conceded. He probably would have given up his own side of the bed if it meant I had another shutout game the day after tomorrow.
But agreeing to this…it’s crazy.
It’s…fuck.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to get into bed.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head.
There is something really fucking wrong with me. I’d rather spend the night curled up in my chef’s childhood bed than out hooking up with bunnies.
A laugh tumbles from my lips as I think about how much my life has changed recently.
And I know without doubt that it’s changed for the better, and it’s because of her.
She’s brought a whole new kind of light that I didn’t even know existed before.
And I swear that light only gets brighter the more time we spend together.
Time ticks on, but Freya doesn’t emerge from the bathroom.
Concern tugs at my insides, and before I can second-guess myself, I push to my feet and walk to the door.
I hesitate as I lift my hand to knock.
She’s fine.
She’s just doing her skincare or her hair or—
She’s hiding from you…
I close my eyes, willing myself to retreat to the bed and wait her out.
My hand is about to drop in defeat when the door suddenly opens, and there she is, wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt and sleep shorts.
Her face is clear of makeup, her hair twisted up, and she’s…I swallow thickly. She’s not wearing a bra.
“Hi,” I breathe.
“Um…hi?”
“I was…uh…you’ve been in there a long time,” I state, still not moving even though I’m standing in her way.
“Sorry, I was—”
“Freaking out?” I finish for her, needing her to know that I understand and that it’s okay.
A self-deprecating laugh spills from her lips, and she averts her eyes.
“Freya,” I whisper, but she doesn’t look back up.
Reaching out, I tuck two fingers under her chin and tilt her head back.
“Hey,” I say the moment her eyes find mine again. “It’s okay, Whirlwind. This is only a big deal if we make it so.”
“I know that, I do. I just…” A laugh tumbles free. “Cole Hansley is in my bedroom.”
I can’t help but smile down at her.
“Yeah, he is.” What are you going to do about it?
It takes every ounce of self-control to keep that question to myself.
Her eyes bounce between mine as if she’s trying to figure something out. But when a frown pinches her brows together, it becomes obvious that she doesn’t find what she wants.
“Are you finished in the bathroom?” I finally say, needing to do something before I throw caution to the wind and royally fuck this up.
“Y-yeah. It’s all yours. Be careful with the faucets; they’re ridiculously powerful.”
“Got it.”
Finally, I take a step back and allow her to step into her bedroom so I can slip into the bathroom.
I turn around before closing the door and watch her walk to the bed. She’s almost there when she must sense my attention, because she turns around and catches me.
My heart jumps into my throat, but I’m long past caring that she knows that I keep checking her out.
How can I not? Especially braless and in those sinful shorts.
“There’s a new toothbrush on the counter for you,” she whispers before turning around and pulling the sheets back.
With a smirk, I finally push the door closed, cutting off the connection between us.
I turn around and spot the toothbrush waiting for me, but when I look up into the mirror, my smile widens even more at the happiness in my eyes.
I’m sure spending the night under the same roof as a woman’s parents is most guys’ idea of hell. But honestly, I couldn’t be fucking happier.
Having Freya with me in my apartment is one thing, but a night together in the same room? Yeah, I’ll fucking take that in any form I can get it.
“Oh shit,” I cry out after forgetting Freya’s warning and turning the faucet on. The water hits the bottom of the sink and immediately shoots back out, hitting me in the stomach and soaking my shirt.
I’m laughing as I reach to turn it down.
“You okay?” Freya calls from the other side of the door, no doubt knowing exactly what just happened.
“Yep. All good,” I say as I reach for the toothbrush and do my thing.
Two minutes later, I’m pulling the door open to a pair of amused eyes.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she mocks, her gaze dropping to my wet clothes.
“I forgot,” I mutter as I walk around to the empty side of her bed. Her eyes follow me, and I’d be lying if I said her attention didn’t make my temperature increase with every step.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I reach for the unused pillows and drop them to the floor.
“Making my bed.”
“Cole,” she breathes as I reach for the comforter folded at the bottom of her bed. “Stop,” she begs, reaching forward and wrapping her hand around my forearm.
I look down at where her pale fingers rest against my darker skin, fire shooting up my arm from that innocent touch.
“You’re not sleeping on the floor. That’s worse than the couch.”
I shake my head. “It’s really okay. I promise you; I’ve slept in plenty worse places over the years.”
“No, my dad would never forgive me,” she argues.
The mention of her father douses a little of the inferno that’s raging inside me.
I look back at her. Her eyes are wide, begging me to concede.
The problem is, I’m not sure she fully understands just how much I want to do exactly that.
“Sleep in the bed,” she insists. “There’s more than enough space for both of us.”
“Trust me, space isn’t the issue,” I mutter under my breath. I’d happily sleep with her in a twin-sized bed.
Her breath catches as I bend to retrieve the pillows I threw to the floor.
I stare at the empty side of the bed for a few seconds before glancing up at her. She’s sitting with her legs bent and her arms wrapped around her knees, waiting for me.
With a nod, I reach for my belt.
“I…uh…”
“Just take them off and get in,” she demands.
With a heavy sigh, I force myself not to think about what I’m about to do and shove my jeans down my legs. I peel my socks off and then hesitate with my T-shirt. It’s soaked and sticking to my stomach. But if I take it off, I’m going to be revealing a hell of a lot more skin than she is, and…
“Casey showed me your new advertising campaign,” Freya blurts as I stand there, questioning my life choices.
“Oh?”
“She wasn’t meant to, but…she sent them to me anyway. She thought…she thought I’d enjoy them.”
Her cheeks are rosy red, and she bites down on her bottom lip.
Fuck it.
I peel my damp T-shirt from my body before throwing it onto the floor and slipping into Freya’s bed.
Her sheets are soft, and I almost sigh as I sink into her mattress.
Rolling onto my side, I look up at her, waiting for her to join me.
It takes a couple of seconds, but eventually she stretches her legs out and lies with her cheek on the pillow facing me.
“So did you?” I ask, desperate to know what she thought.
A frown appears on her brow.
“Did I what?”
Did my getting all but naked make her forget everything?
I fucking love the idea.
“Did you enjoy the images of my new advertising campaign?”