Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
FREYA
Luci frowns through the screen. “So, what’s the actual issue here?”
“I just don’t know why he’d even offer,” I groan. We’ve been circling the same subject the better part of an hour, and I haven’t gotten any closer to picking apart my feelings about the craft fair.
“You really don’t know?” Her voice is skeptical, her eyes narrowing.
“I think he’s doing a favor for his mom.” I pick at the comforter beneath me. It’s Monday, so the store’s closed, and instead of doing anything productive with my day off, I’ve spent it in a doom spiral.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes!” I flop back until my head’s on the pillow, my free arm flung over my face.
“Freya…”
“Luci…” I whine.
“You’re not stupid. You can’t seriously be telling me that you think this man is making an eight hour round trip and enduring an entire day of knitting talk just to please his mother.”
“They’re really close,” I mumble.
“Freya…” she says again, more forcefully this time.
I sigh. “I don’t know if I even want him to come.”
“Do you feel unsafe around him? He sounded nice from what you’ve said, but…” She eyes me suspiciously, and I hate that she’s probably right to be unsure.
“No, he is nice.” I sit up, needing to defend him. “I mean, he seems nice.”
“You knew him when you were kids, though, right?”
“Not really.” I’ve been racking my brain, but I hardly remember him at all.
There’s a few vague memories, a dark head of hair in the playground, maybe someone asking me about the blocks I was stacking.
I feel terrible about it, but back then I wasn’t paying much attention to anything except my own little world.
Sometimes I can still be like that, but I’ve worked hard to open myself up more.
Even after Aaron, I’m not the shut down little girl I used to be.
“We went to the same school, but he’s a couple years older. ”
“Did you talk at all?”
“Not that I know of.” I chew the inside of my cheek. “But his mom said he knew Jamie Riley.”
“Eew. Were they friends?” Luci scowls. She’s heard all the stories of how that kid used to torment me.
“I don’t think so. Apparently they got into a fight once.”
“Good for firefighter guy.”
“Yeah, I wish I could have seen that.”
“From everything you’ve said about this guy, he seems trustworthy.”
I didn’t realize I’d talked about him that much. “I think he is.”
“Then, stop overthinking.” She gets close to the camera. “Let him help you out. And hey, maybe you’ll end up in some Denver hotel, and maybe there will only be one bed…”
“Stop!” I laugh.
“What? You never know.”
“We’re not even staying overnight.”
“Not yet.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. “You read too many books.”
A noise comes from somewhere in the background of her house. Luci’s head whips around. “Mom?” She calls out behind her. There’s a muffled voice, and then she’s standing. “I gotta go.”
“Is everything okay?” Luci’s been the main caretaker for her mom since she sustained a brain injury four years ago. Marie’s recovered well, but still has seizures sometimes, making it unsafe for her to live alone.
“Yeah, I think so.” She throws a quick smile my way. “I’ll text you.”
“Okay, I love you.”
“Love you too.”
When she’s gone, it doesn’t take me long to realize the silence of the apartment is gonna make me crazy. I try putting on the TV, and then listening to music, but the worry about Marie and the confusion over Oscar coil together until I’m ready to crawl out of my skin.
I have to move. I have to get out of here, and if I can’t have Luci on the phone, telling me that her mom’s okay, then I have to get answers from Oscar. At least then, I’ll have one thing cleared up.
I pull on my coat and head out before I can second-guess myself.
I don’t know for sure if he’ll be at the station, but it’s the only place I can think to go. I could probably call him, but I need to look him in the eye when I ask, to have my best chance at knowing if he’s telling me the truth.
I didn’t need my coat. It’s the middle of March and the weather is finally turning, the cold fingers of winter retreating.
Now I’m left with a damp hairline and the uncomfortable feeling of sweat down my back.
I’m standing outside the firehouse when the insecurity hits.
What if he’s not working today? Or if he is, but he’s on a call somewhere?
He could be out saving someone's life and I’m here ready to waste his time with my inane questions.
I’m about to turn on my heel and head back to the safety of my apartment when I hear a voice behind me. “Malcolm?”
Jogging across the road toward me is the firefighter who tried to drop off the second flyer. Ryan, I think? His grin is wide as he glances between his workplace and where I’m standing on the sidewalk. I can feel my cheeks burning at being caught, but he doesn’t seem fazed.
“You here to see Murph?” he asks, not stopping as he moves past me. “Come on, I’ll take you to him.”
“Oh! That’s okay.”
“Come on,” he says again, pushing through a metal door and gesturing for me to follow.
I feel like a baby deer, my feet unsteady as I trace his steps.
We enter a different part of the station than where they held the fundraiser.
It’s all offices back here, and Ryan leads me down a long corridor until we reach a half-open door with music spilling out. He pushes it open and I freeze.
The loud music drowns out the sounds of metal clanking and low conversation. There are people dotted around the space using treadmills or loading plates onto bars at weight racks. In my anxiety about seeing Oscar, I hadn’t spotted the sign on the door reading GYM in large black letters.
“Murph!” Ryan yells from next to me, making me jump.
Across the room a man sits up from a weight bench.
Oh God, it’s him. My breath catches in my throat.
His T-shirt pulls tight over his chest and biceps, the collar damp from the beads of sweat that have formed on his face.
His hair is pushed back, the dark waves tousled like he’s been running his hands through it.
I watch as a droplet of moisture traces his jaw, going down, down, down, under the collar of his shirt.
My palms go clammy as something unfurls low in my belly. I have to look away, afraid of what might happen if I don’t. It’s like my body isn’t mine, like it’s been taken over by some monster that only wants.
Oscar pulls out one of his earbuds and glances around, trying to place the sound.
Ryan waves, and it’s only then, that he notices me.
His eyes widen, the brown in them glinting.
His lips part as he pulls out the other earbud and stands.
The knot in my chest is telling me to go, to get out of here before he can send me away, but there’s something about his expression that has me rooted to the spot.
He winds his way around the machines, never taking his eyes off me. He doesn’t stop, coming right into my space and cupping my elbow.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Found her outside,” Ryan says.
Oscar scowls at him. “So what, you brought her in like a stray cat?”
“I figured she was here for you.” Ryan shrugs, still smiling.
“Don’t talk about her like she’s not here.”
“Sorry, Murph.”
Oscar just glares at him, his hand still on my arm.
Ryan’s face turns red as he looks at where Oscar’s touching me. “Sorry, Freya.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur.
“Here, come with me.” Oscar’s hand moves to the small of my back as he guides us from the gym. Away from the noise and the curious gazes of all those people, I’m able to think clearer.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m alright.”
We end up in one of the bunk rooms. Oscar has me sit on an empty bed and he pulls up a chair, positioning himself in front of me.
There’s an inch between our knees that I can’t stop staring at, wondering what it would feel like if he scooted forward.
Jesus Christ, I must seriously be in the trenches of touch deprivation if I’m fantasizing about the knees of a guy I hardly know.
“I’m sorry for showing up,” I blurt out. “I can go if you’re busy.”
“I’ve got time,” he says gently, holding my gaze.
I break our stare, looking down at my lap.
“Did you wanna talk to me about something?”
I clench my fists, willing myself to just say my piece, and then get the hell out of here. He’ll be happy once I’ve explained. “Yes.”
We sit in silence for a beat. “Which was?” He leans forward, propping his elbows on his thighs.
I take a deep breath. “I wanted to come and let you off the hook.”
He frowns, clasping his hands in front of him and ducking down to meet my eyeline. “Freya. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know you only offered to come with me to Denver because your mom was worried, and I wanted to tell you that it’s really not necessary.
” It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
“I can talk to Valerie and tell her that I asked you not to take me, so she won’t be mad.
You don’t need to give up your whole day to—”
“Freya.”
“—I mean, we don’t really know each other, and I appreciate the offer, and how nice you’ve been, aside from the first time, but I think we’re over that now.”
“Freya, stop.” He cuts me off, and thank God, because I don’t know how I was planning on finishing that ramble.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t apologize.” I feel pinned by his stare, like he’s seeing everything I thought I’d kept hidden. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“What? No!” I protest.
“Then, why do you think that I’m only helping you because it’s what my mother wants?”
“But…”
“This is between you and me. Nobody else matters. I offered to come because I want to, no other reason. Do you want me to come to Denver, Freya?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to come?” He says it slow, sounding every syllable. “You, Freya. Nobody else. Stop thinking about what you think I want and just tell me straight. Do you want me to come?”
“Yes.” I can hardly hear myself as the word escapes.
Oscar reaches out with his foot, tapping his toe against mine. I look up and meet his questioning gaze.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I study him, still trying to figure out what he’s doing. “You’re nice.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I’m just trying to figure it out.” Shut up, Freya. He’s going to think you’re a basket case.
I don’t like the way he watches me, like he’s seeing too much. “Are you not used to people being nice to you?”
There’s a kind of stabbing pain, right in my chest, like I’ve been shot with an arrow. Who says things like that? And how does he know?
I clear my throat, needing to get away from this.
“Are you still alright driving?” I ask.
He pauses, watching me before he decides to let it slide. “Of course. Do you want me to come by the store on Friday to load up?”
“Um, no. It’s all at my place.” I was expecting to be making the trip alone, so I’ve been doing most of the prep at my apartment.
“Then, I’ll see you Saturday.”