Chapter 42 Freya
FREYA
With my eyes locked on Cole’s hand wrapped around the steering wheel, we follow Casey and Kodie out of the parking lot.
My heart is racing, and excitement flutters in my stomach.
Since the moment Cole walked into the friends and family suite, he hasn’t left my side. And more often than not, he’s also been physically touching me. A graze of his hand against mine, his palm resting on the small of my back, or now, his hand resting on my thigh.
He put the car into drive, and then his hand lingered between us, as if he was battling with something. Three seconds later, his hand moved closer to my thigh, like he’d made his decision.
I swear to God, the second his palm touched my thigh, it was like someone electrocuted me. But in the best kind of way.
The desire that has been thrumming through me all evening is suddenly all I can think about.
He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I just enjoy having him to myself like this.
We’re heading to the Fractured Compass to celebrate with the team. I’m not going to get him alone again for quite some time.
Dragging my eyes from where he’s white-knuckling the wheel, I run my gaze up his exposed muscular forearm to where his rolled shirt sleeve rests just above his elbow. I keep going, taking in the way the fabric stretches across his bicep and shoulder before getting to his profile.
His square jaw is covered in a couple of days’ worth of scruff, his lips are full, and his eyes are fully focused on the road ahead.
“See something you like?” he deadpans.
My breath catches, and I cough.
“Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I was just…lost in my own head.”
“Penny for your thoughts,” he says, turning his burning eyes on me.
I smile and look away, feeling too seen under his intense gaze.
“Ah, those kinds of thoughts,” he teases.
“What? No. I just…” His hand squeezes my thigh in silent reassurance that I don’t need to finish that thought.
He knows.
He gets it.
“You know, I could just take this right and we could go home,” he rasps.
Home.
It’s weird. At no point did I mean for Cole’s apartment to become that, but somewhere along the way, it has. It’s home. It’s a place I love being and a place I crave to go back to when I’m away. Even more so if he’s going to be there.
“We can’t. They’re all expecting us,” I say, despite wanting to say the very opposite.
“Hmm,” he mumbles, taking the left instead.
“Just a couple of drinks, then?”
A smile twitches at my lips as nerves race through me.
“Y-yeah, okay.”
He squeezes my thigh again as he drives us to the bar and parks as close as he can. The second he removes his hand from my thigh, coldness engulfs my body, and I regret not taking him up on his offer of just going home.
“Stay here,” he demands as soon as he kills the car before climbing out and marching around the hood to open my door for me.
He holds his hand out, and despite not needing any assistance, I slide my palm against his.
Heat rushes up my arm as his fingers wrap around my hand, holding tight.
My feet hit the ground, and he tugs me until we’re standing with barely an inch between us.
He gazes down at me with an expression that he seems to reserve only for me.
“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” he says softy.
I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips.
“Well, I should have. You were entirely too distracting when I was playing.”
My heart flutters, sending hope racing through my veins. Hope that, until recently, had been in short supply.
“Maybe I’d better stop coming to games then,” I tease, although there is a part of me that’s terrified he might agree.
I love watching him play, and I'm beginning to hate missing road games. Watching on a TV just isn’t the same.
His eyes flash with determination. “Not a chance. I’m becoming addicted to looking up and seeing you wearing my jersey and cheering for me.”
I smile up at him. “Then I’ll be there. Every game I can.”
Time seems to stop as he stares down at me.
My heart races as I wait for him to lean down and do something.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” someone bellows from down the street. “Let’s go and fucking celebrate.”
We look over to find Killer and Rett grinning like idiots with Monroe trailing behind them.
“Going to fucking kill them.”
“Maybe wait until after you’ve won the Stanley Cup,” I muse.
Cole lights up. “You think we’re going to win?”
“I know it,” I state confidently.
When the guys catch up, Cole snags my hand and tugs me along with them.
Sensing his attention, I look up and find him watching me with an unreadable expression.
“What?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing. I just like having you here for this.”
I smile at him as we walk into the bar hand in hand.
A round of applause erupts as the guys are greeted by those who are already here.
Cole dodges the crowd that forms and tugs me around to where Casey, Kodie, Linc, and Parker are already at the bar.
“What do you want to drink?” Cole asks.
“Just a soda.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes bouncing between mine.
“Yeah. You deserve a drink. I’ll drive us home.”
A smile twitches at his lips the moment the word “home” rolls off my tongue.
“Only because I want to see you driving my car,” he mutters under his breath before he catches the bartender’s attention.
An hour later, we’re all sitting in a booth, the guys talking animatedly about tonight’s game.
“Excuse me,” Casey says, waving the guys out of the way so she can slide from the booth. “Restroom?” she asks, looking directly at me.
I don’t need to go, but from the look in Casey’s eyes, I don’t think I have a choice.
As soon as I’m on my feet, she links her arm through mine, and we walk toward the back of the bar.
“I swear to God, Freya. You two are going to go up in flames soon,” she says the second the door closes.
“What? We haven’t done anything,” I argue.
“Yes. Exactly my point. Girl, you need to take him home and…” She waggles her brows at me.
I want to. God, do I want to.
But…
“What if I’ve forgotten how to?”
“Pfft. It’s like riding a bike. And when the bike is as fine as that man out there, I promise you won’t have a problem.”
My stomach flutters with nerves.
“You don’t have to go from zero to sixty straight away. Make him work for it. Use him to build your confidence. I don’t think he’ll have a single complaint about that.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush and no experience.
“Ask him to dance. Let him get his hands on you, where you know it can’t go any further. One step at a time.”
I nod, but I can’t say I’m feeling any more confident about it.
“Trust him to know what you need, Freya. He’s a good man. He won’t rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”
Despite not needing to go, I make the most of my visit to the restroom, and as I stand washing my hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I might be nervous about the night ahead, but the woman looking back at me is completely different from the one from only a few months ago.
Casey was right. I’m not the same person I used to be.
I’m stronger, and hopefully a little more resilient.
Sure, I might not be quite as wild, but being more considerate isn’t a bad thing.
Hopefully, it’ll help protect my heart and give me confidence that I’m making the right decisions.
All I do know is that right now, the only person I want to spend the rest of my night with is sitting out there without me.
“Ready?” Casey asks as she comes to stand next to me.
We’re wearing matching outfits. The only difference is the name and number on our jerseys.
I lift my chin slightly and hold my own stare in the mirror. “Yeah. I think I am.”
With my shoulders back, I walk out of the restroom and set my sights on the man I can’t get out of my head.
In my absence, he’s moved right to the edge of the booth, eradicating the spot I was previously sitting in.
Just take it one step at a time…
An idea hits me, and before I can stop myself, I march right up to him, rest my hand on his shoulder, and lower myself to his lap.
“Sorry, no one was sitting here, were they?” I ask, aware I’ve got the attention of every single person sitting around the table.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Parker give me a thumbs-up. But it’s not until Cole’s large hand wraps around my hip that I relax.
He leans in close and rasps, “What have I told you about apologizing?” in my ear.
I practically melt on his lap.
“I’m not sure. You’ll have to remind me.”
A deep groan rumbles in his throat, and I feel it in every inch of my body.
“Would you…would you like to dance with me?” I ask, summoning every ounce of confidence I possess.
“I’m not really a dancer,” he confesses, making my heart sink. “But for you, I’d dance all night long.”
He lifts me from his lap with ease, and once he’s on his feet, he takes my hand and leads me toward the dance floor.
There are a few other players dancing with their girls, and we slot right in beside Fletch and his wife, Reese. Not that they pay us any mind; they’re too lost in their own little world, as am I two seconds later.
It doesn’t matter that the song is upbeat; Cole wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his body as if we’re about to start slow dancing.
“Hey,” he says, gazing down at me as we move together completely out of sync with the music.
“Hey. Are you having a good night?”
“It keeps getting better and better,” he confesses.
“Well, considering it started with a win, I’d say you’re doing pretty good.”
“Whirlwind, you have no idea.”
I smile up at him, my heart thundering in my chest.
“I like celebrating wins with you.”
He smiles, and it sends fire racing through my veins.
“I like doing anything with you.”