Chapter 39 Freya
FREYA
He can’t ask me that question.
It’s not fair.
He’s lying beside me in just a pair of boxer briefs; he smells unbelievable, and he looks…oh my god.
Yes. Exactly. He looks like a god.
His eyes bore into mine, silently begging me to answer the question.
Unable to look at him as I confess, my eyelids shutter before I whisper, “Yes.”
His breath catches.
It should be enough to stop my nervous word vomit, but apparently it’s not, because before my brain can catch up with my mouth, I hear myself saying, “But you’re better in person.”
My eyes fly open in shock, and I’m so glad they do because I get to see his reaction.
Something—pride, maybe—flashes in his eyes, and his lips twitch at the sides.
“Is that right?” he rasps.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You know you’re hot,” I argue, my face burning so hot I’m sure my skin is about to melt right off.
“What if I like hearing you say it?”
“Then you should make the most of what I just said because it might not happen again.”
He chuckles, and it makes my heart beat even faster as the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen graces his lips.
I sigh happily.
“I’ve never slept with a woman before,” Cole suddenly says.
“What?”
“I thought we were sharing.”
“Uh…but…”
“But what, Whirlwind?”
Christ, does he really need to pull that nickname out right now?
“But,” I start, finding some confidence from somewhere to say what I’m thinking. “I’ve seen you photographed with tons of women.”
“Maybe so. But I’ve never spent more than a few hours with them at a time. I’ve certainly never spent the entire night.”
My brows rise as understanding dawns.
“You thought I was going to try and convince you I was a virgin, didn’t you?”
I shrug, trying to play it off.
“I’m not. Far from it, in fact. I won’t tell you that I’ve been a good boy because that would be a lie.”
I shift, and a lock of hair falls from my bun and tickles across my cheek.
Before I have a chance to move it, Cole’s fingers brush over my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.
My breathing stutters as the warmth from his touch burns all the way down my body and straight between my thighs.
My tongue skates across my bottom lip, and before I can stop myself, I shamelessly lean forward, closing the space between us.
Two of his fingers rest on my cheek, and the others wrap around the side of my neck. There is no way he can’t feel my racing pulse.
“Cole,” I whisper.
He shifts a little closer, the heat of his almost-naked body burning mine even hotter.
Kiss me. Please.
Just kiss—
Bang.
I close my eyes as my dad’s deep voice rumbles up the stairs as he gets ready to call it a night.
I focus on my breathing, desperately trying to get myself under control.
Cole Hansley might be almost naked in my bed, but we’re under my parents’ roof right now. This isn’t the time or the place to start anything.
“Freya,” Cole whispers.
I’m powerless but to open my eyes.
The second I look into his heated gaze, I forget about everything I just told myself.
I need him. I—
“Thank you.” I frown, not understanding. “Thank you for inviting me and making me a part of your family for a night. It…it means a lot to be included.”
“Oh, Cole.” My heart aches for the lost little boy I’m discovering that lives inside him. “You’re always welcome here.”
I want to cry out when he pulls his hand and warmth away from me, but it’s quickly forgotten when he demands, “Turn around.”
I hesitate for the briefest moment before doing as he says and turning my back to him.
Not a second later does his heat burn down my back as he presses himself up against me. His hand brushes my waist, but before he does more, he whispers, “Is this okay?”
I nod, forgetting that he can’t really see me.
“Yes,” I breathe. “It’s okay.” It’s more than okay.
It’s also entirely inappropriate to be the little spoon to my boss’s bigger one. But am I going to put a stop to it? Absolutely not.
He needs me. I saw it in his eyes just now as he thanked me for giving him a family for a night.
Hell, I’d probably give him anything he asked of me right now.
It’s probably for the best that I now have my back to him.
His hand slides around my stomach, and before I know it, he’s holding me against him as if I’m an anchor that’ll stop him from drowning.
Emotion clogs my throat and burns my eyes as I think about a younger version of the man behind me, desperate for someone to call his own. Craving someone to be on his side, to fight for him, to want him.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers.
“I’m okay,” I whisper back, but it’s clear that it’s a lie.
“I’m sorry, I’ll—”
“No,” I cry when he starts to release me. “Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”
He relaxes again, his breath tickling across my shoulder and down my spine.
“You deserve this, you know.”
“Spooning my chef?” he deadpans.
A laugh explodes out of me. “No, to spend the whole night with someone who cares about you.”
He mumbles a non-committal response.
“I mean it. You have a lot to offer someone, Cole Hansley, and any woman would be incredibly lucky to have you.”
“What about you? Would you consider yourself lucky?”
I pause. Not because I don’t have an answer, but because the one that dances on the tip of my tongue is entirely too honest and raw.
But then I remember that we’re sharing, and it free-falls from my mouth.
“The luckiest girl in the world.”
Nothing else is said as we lie there in each other’s arms.
It’s been so long since I’ve been held like this. I embrace every second of it until sleep finally claims me.
I sleep better than I have in a long time. In fact, I don’t think I even stir, which is unheard of these days.
I wake up feeling refreshed and a little confused. But the second I feel movement behind me, it all comes crashing back, and everything begins to make sense.
I slept so well because I had someone here protecting me.
“I know you’re awake,” he rasps. The roughness of his voice sends a shiver racing down my spine.
“M-morning. What time is it?”
“Five-thirty.”
“Why exactly are we awake?”
The bed shakes with his silent laughter.
“We’ve gotta get back into the city so I can get to training on time.”
I groan, stretching out my legs, but I still the second I feel something pressing against my ass.
Oh my god.
Cole Hansley is in my bed, and…and…he’s hard.
Despite still being half asleep, desire surges through my body, pooling between my thighs.
“Cole?” I whisper, unsure what I’m meant to do with this information before the sun has even risen.
He clears his throat. “It’s morning. I can’t…uh…I can’t help it.”
It’s stupid, but the moment I hear his words, I instantly deflate, ice flooding through my veins.
It’s not because of me. It’s just…his body’s natural reaction to waking up and being excited for the day ahead.
Right.
“We should probably get up then. Got a long drive ahead.”
I roll away from him, and to my disappointment, he lets me go.
I get to my feet, twist my T-shirt back into place, and then pad toward the bathroom.
“Freya?”
I shake my head, feeling stupid and embarrassed, and keep walking.
“Freya?” he says more firmly, and this time I pause and look back over my shoulder.
I find him sitting in the middle of my bed with the sheets pooled at his waist, his torso and all his ink and muscles on full display.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just couldn’t bring myself to get up first.”
“No, it’s fine. Just forget about it. I’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
With that said, I dart toward the bathroom and lock myself in again.
I’m hit with a sense of déjà vu as I stand there with my head spinning, only this time I’ve got brain fog from sleep to contend with.
He doesn’t want you, Freya. He just made that more than obvious.
Get this little crush out of your head and focus on your job.
As promised, I’m freshened up and ready to go in ten minutes.
As soon as I open the bathroom door, wearing last night's clothes that I left in a pile on the counter, I discover that Cole is also dressed and sitting on my bed, waiting for me.
“Ready?” I ask, marching across the room and shoving my feet into my sneakers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, pocketing his cell and wallet as he pushes to his feet.
I rush toward the door, more than ready to get out of this room and away from him, but before I make it, he stops me.
His hand wraps around my wrist, and with a gentle tug, he spins me around to face him.
His eyes search my face before landing on mine.
“What just happened?”
My mouth opens and closes, but I can’t find any words.
His expression darkens. “I knew I should have slept on the floor. I’m sorry. It was too much. I—”
“No,” I say, pressing two fingers to his lips to stop him.
His eyes beg for me to tell him that it’s okay. But honestly, I have no idea what way is up right now.
“Everything is okay. I just…I need a coffee and…I don’t know, to forget it happened.”
A deep frown wrinkles his brow.
“F-forget?”
“Yeah. I’m your employee, Cole. That…” I say, gesturing to my bed. “We just got swept up in the moment. I get it.”
I tug my arm free, and thankfully, he releases me.
Turning my back on him again, I pull my bedroom door open and rush down the stairs.
I quickly gather up my things before opening the front door and marching toward my car, aware that Cole is following me.
The sun is just breaking across the horizon as we silently drive back to the city.
No words are said for the longest time, and I’m both relieved and incredibly frustrated by it.
I’m desperate for him to tell me that I’m wrong and that the reason I felt him pressed up against my ass this morning was because he wanted me. But also, I’m not sure I’d be able to handle hearing that.
Even if that was the case, we can’t let ourselves get involved.
I work for him.
It would inevitably go wrong, and before I know it, I’d find myself out of a job and heartbroken again because I know without a doubt that it would be entirely too easy to fall for Cole Hansley.
Hell, I’m pretty sure a part of me already has.
The way he looked at me last night. The lost expression on his face, the darkness in his eyes that was replaced by hope.
Or was that just the hopeless romantic inside me that saw all of that?
I am wishing for something that’s never going to happen.
I grit my teeth as tears burn the backs of my eyes for letting myself get dragged along by my foolish heart all over again.
“Freya? What’s wrong?” Cole asks, looking over at me, curled up in a ball on the passenger seat, battling with my emotions.
I look out the window, refusing to allow him to see the tears that are threatening to spill over.
“Nothing,” I state, but my voice isn’t as strong as I’d like it to be, and I fear it gives away everything I’m feeling.