Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
"You have a visitor."
When I looked up, Dad’s expression didn’t match his voice. He was trying to sound disapproving. But something about the situation obviously amused him if the twinkle in his eyes meant anything.
"What?" I said belatedly, thinking I must've misheard.
"I said, you have a visitor," he repeated.
My paperback still open in my lap, I glanced at the clock on my wall. It was nearly 10:00 PM. Who would be here at this hour?
I shrugged then held up my book, a historical romance I was already loving even though I was only a few chapters in. It was the second I'd read today. "Tell them I'm busy."
"Tried that," he replied.
"Well, did you say that I'm concussed?"
"Didn't have to. He knew that already."
He?
Hold up.
I sat back in my chair. "Dad, it's late. Just tell him to go away."
Dad sighed but the twinkle remained. "Tried that too. But if you look outside, you'll see a boy-shaped shadow, alternating between staring at the door and up at your window."
"You're kidding," I said.
"Check it out if you don't believe me."
I did. Standing up, I walked to the window, pulled my curtains aside, and glanced down. Sure enough, there he was. A figure that looked very much like Tolliver stood on the path to our house, staring at the door. I hated to admit it, but he was just as stunning from afar.
"I told him to go home," Dad said next to me, "but the kid refused. Said he wasn't leaving until he checked on the patient. I told him you were fine. But well, he's still out there."
I forced the fluttering in my chest to stop.
But I couldn't resist asking…
"How long ago was that?" I said.
"About 20 minutes."
"And you’re just telling me now?"
"It was a test. I thought he'd go after five. Ten tops," he replied, then added under his breath, “persistent little creep.”
I rolled my eyes. "He's not a creep, Dad."
"The guy came knocking in the dead of night—"
I scoffed because we were both night owls who hardly ever went to bed before midnight.
"—and he promised to visit then kept my daughter waiting all day."
"I wasn't waiting," I protested.
Dad merely lifted a brow at that, silently calling me on the lie.
But I really hadn't waited all day. I'd been too busy crying and reading—not at the same time. When I woke up this morning, the first thing I saw was a text from my cousin Scarlett. All it said was: OMG! Have you seen this? There was a picture beneath that, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
The photo was taken from behind. The HERS tour bus was in the background, and it clearly showed Aurora kissing...was that Felix Cordova?
Oh my gosh was right.
My cousin was kissing a rockstar.
Just like I told her to—even if I never in a million years thought she'd do it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I was happy for her and honestly so proud of Ror for stepping out of her shell.
I texted her to tell her so, focusing on the positive, keeping my tone light.
But...no matter how I tried to push the thought back, a small voice inside whispered: That should've been me.
With Ryker Cordova, of course. I was the one with the crush.
I was the one who'd convinced Ror to go in the first place.
I was supposed to be there. Not here crying stupid tears and wondering if a certain hockey player would keep his promise to come by.
To escape my funk, I'd started reading. Being swept away by yet another amazing historical romance didn't leave me much time to think about the tour I was missing, Tolliver's absence, the pain in my wrist or anything else—which was the entire point.
I'd never admit that between chapters, I glanced outside a time or two.
Or that I insisted on answering the door whenever someone knocked or rang the bell, feeling like an idiot when none of them were Tolliver.
Instead of saying any of that to my dad, I arched a brow.
"Anyway," my father went on, "he's also carrying a hockey stick like some reject in a horror movie."
"His name's not Jason," I replied.
"You sure?"
"Yep."
"Thank God. Do you know what it is? Just in case I have to call the police to make him leave?"
Right then, Tolliver looked up, and a little zing went through me as our gazes collided. His lips tipped up. He lifted his hand in a wave, and I frowned then dropped the curtain.
"That won't be necessary," I said briskly. "I'll make him go."
"How?" Dad asked.
"By being my usual charming self."
My father laughed softly. "Now I feel kind of bad for the kid."
I scoffed. "Don't."
So far, I’d managed to keep the details of what exactly landed me in the hospital a secret. Namely Tolliver and his terrible aim. I didn’t think Dad would be so nice if he knew that little fact.
When I got to the door, I didn’t pause before throwing it open and stepping outside. I crossed my arms, trying not to be moved at all by the way Tolliver’s face seemed to light up upon seeing me. Shaking myself out of it, I felt my lips turn down. Unlike my dad, my scowl was real.
“Hey,” Tolliver said, “it's good to see you.”
“Why? Did you think I died or something?” I asked.
He shook his head. "Nah, you're too tough for that, and my basketball skills aren't that bad."
"Aren't they?"
As Tolliver kept smiling at me, I tilted my head, gesturing to the stick in his hand.
"You bring that to finish the job?"
Again, instead of being offended, he choked on a laugh. "I just got done with hockey practice."
I lifted a brow.
"No, really. I help with a camp, and it just let out. The rink’s a good 30 minutes away. Came here right after."
Yeah, sure, I thought.
"Also, it may be lame, but..." For the first time, Tolliver looked unsure. The slight blush on his cheeks wasn’t endearing at all as he held out something colorful to me. "I got you these."
Wordlessly, I accepted the bouquet.
Sunflowers.
The hockey player brought me sunflowers interspersed with little blue, star-shaped buds.
Despite myself, staring at the blooms, I felt myself thaw a little.
"Didn't know they sell flowers this late at night," I said.
"They don't."
Tolliver cleared his throat.
"I picked them up earlier. The guys wouldn't stop teasing me at practice."
"Ah, was it bad?"
"Relentless."
I bit back a smile. "Good."
He laughed softly at that. "Glad you like that part."
I did.
The thought of Tolliver getting flack for buying me flowers? Oh, I loved it.
"You know, you could've gotten smaller ones," I commented, though I loved the bouquet and wouldn't change a thing. "If you wanted to hide them, I mean."
"Nah, I wanted these."
"Why?" I asked.
"Sunflowers because they're beautiful and bright—like you."
My heart stuttered.
"And forget-me-nots because, well, after yesterday, I hope your head’s okay."
My eyes snapped to his at the joke.
All the reasons I should be pissed at him flooded back into my mind.
And that hardened my heart.
"Translation," I said, lowering my arm with the flowers, watching Tolliver's smile fall with them, "you hung out with your hockey buddies all day and finally remembered to come check on the girl whose dreams you crushed. You felt guilty, so you got these flowers that will probably wither as soon as you’re gone. How sweet of you."
"No, I—" Tolliver stepped forward, running a hand along his neck. "Sorry, bad joke."
"Terrible joke."
"Sometimes I say stupid things when I’m nervous."
Me too, I thought.
But what I said was, "Only sometimes?"
He nodded. "Okay, I deserved that."
"And why would you be nervous?" I muttered.
Looking up at me from beneath his lashes with an earnest expression, Tolliver said, "I always am around you."
I scoffed, but Tolliver didn't laugh.
After a beat, he shrugged.
"The truth is, I really am glad to see you. And I thought you'd like the flowers."
"I do," I admitted.
He beamed.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
"I don't know," he said still shining like a beacon in the night. "Coach tells me I bounce back quick after a hit. It's one of my strengths as a player."
"Good to know."
"Yeah, but I think I'm just happy."
"Why?"
He shrugged again. "Because I'm with you."
Jeez, this guy had heartbreaker written all over him.
Must tread carefully.
"Okay well, you can see that I'm fine despite your best efforts," I said. "Thanks for coming."
"Would've been here sooner, but my younger brother Hudson took the car this afternoon—even though he knew I needed it," he mumbled.
That peaked my interest. "You share a car with your brother?"
"Yeah, he went to see a girl and didn’t get back until right before I had to take him and my other siblings to practice."
"Convenient."
"And annoying," Tolliver added. "He's 16 but thinks he's 21. The kid won't listen. He does whatever he wants—like stealing the car keys while I'm helping my sister with her homework—flirts with anything that moves, thinks he's invincible on the ice."
I smiled a little at that. "Sounds like a cool kid."
"He's okay."
A laugh bubbled up and out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Tolliver smiled. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Ah come on, it's the first time I made Freya Kent laugh. If you don't tell me, I'll have to assume it means you like me."
My frown was instant. "I don't like you."
"Ouch, say it a little quicker next time," he mumbled.
Rolling my eyes, I added, "I laughed because when you talked about your brother it was the first time you sounded rude."
"And that's funny?"
"To me, yeah."
"Then you'd love my chirping."
"Huh?"
"Trash talk," he clarified. "I excel at that in games."
"You mean hockey?"
He nodded.
"Alright, well since sports have entered the chat, I’ll take that as my cue to exit," I said, starting to turn around. "Thanks for the flowers, Tolliver. You got here a little late, but you fulfilled your promise. It was good knowing you."
"Freya..."
If his soft voice didn't stop me, the strong hand gently holding my arm would.
Looking back, I said, "Hmmm?"
"I haven’t kept my promise yet."
"What?"
"I’ll be back tomorrow," he said.
"You really don’t have to do that," I said, unable to think clearly while he was touching me. Obviously, I should’ve put more bite behind my words because Tolliver’s smile didn’t dim. In fact, he looked even more determined.
"I know I don’t have to. I want to."
As his hand traveled down my forearm, fingers softly encircling my wrist with the lightest of touches, I felt my heart race.
It had to be a bad sign.
I needed to squash this. Immediately.
"Don’t come back," I said, firmly this time, and took a step away. My heart was sad, watching his hand fall, but my brain, the smarter part of my anatomy, was relieved. "I don’t like people, especially athletes. So yeah, don’t come back."
"But I want to help you," he said.
"With what?"
"Anything you need."
I shook my head. "Since I can't play, my summer pretty much consists of avoiding people, rehabbing my wrist, crying into a tub of salted caramel ice cream, and reading all the books I can. So unless you want to turn the pages for me, there's really nothing for you to—"
"I can do that."
My eyes went to his. "What?"
"Turn the pages," he said with an easy grin. "I can do that and whatever else you need too."
"Tolliver."
"Freya," he said in the same tone.
"You literally just left the door wide open for me to ask for anything."
"Yeah, I know."
I stared at him.
"Need a kidney? A lung? I've got two," he said.
"Keep your organs to yourself," I said back.
"Well, alright then." Tolliver nodded as if it was all settled. "I'll see you tomorrow."
I had to try to stop this.
Crossing my arms, I said, "I start reading at the crack of dawn, just so you know."
"Cool. I'm an early bird."
Of course, he was.
I tried again.
"My dad won't like you coming around."
"I'll win him over. Parents love me."
Of course, they did.
"I've been told I can be very unpleasant," I said.
Tolliver bit back a grin. "That right?"
I nodded.
"Who told you that?"
"My ex, classmates, teachers, other musicians, my mom, everyone really except my dad and cousins, but that's just because they love me despite my flaws and...
why am I even telling you this?" I stopped abruptly, realizing Tolliver's smile had grown to epic proportions during my rambling. "I'm just trying to warn you."
His light blue eyes held mine. "Consider me warned."
As Tolliver walked away, carrying his hockey stick in one hand, looking like he didn't have a care in the world, I remembered to ask...
"Hey, how did you know where I live?"
"School directory," he shot back.
My brows scrunched in confusion.
"You go to Chapel Hill?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Since when?"
"Since always."
Oh. "Why haven't I ever seen you at school?"
He reached the driver's side of his car then turned to gaze at me over the hood. "I guess you weren't looking."
Tolliver was probably right. I always kept my head down at school.
I'd learned it was safer that way. Friends were overrated.
My schoolmates all thought I was a freak anyway, and my one attempt at dating was a total fail.
But Tolliver was so tall, so stunning, that I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed him before. Speaking of which...
"One last question," I said. He nodded. "Yesterday, how'd you know who I was? I never gave you my name. So...?"
His lips tipped up at the corners.
"What?"
"Just because you weren't looking doesn't mean I wasn't," he said.
I blinked.
"Sweet dreams, Freya." Tolliver shook his head. "Can't wait to turn those pages."
With that, he slipped into his car, and I walked up the steps to my door in a daze. I didn't hear him pull away until I was back inside. Thankfully, Dad didn't try to give me the third degree. By the time I was back in my room, I'd replayed Tolliver's words about a million times.
Just because you weren't looking doesn't mean I wasn't.
I wasn't sure exactly what it meant.
Did that mean he was looking?
At me?
My overactive, romantic brain wanted to read so much into that statement.
But one thing was clear.
Tolliver was dangerous, to my sanity, to my heart. Part of me hoped he'd stay away.
And part of me couldn't wait to see if he'd show up again tomorrow.