Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The sun was peeking over the clouds when the doorbell rang the next morning.
I opened the door, and...
"You're here," I said, trying and failing to hide my surprise.
Tolliver's lips twitched. "Told you I would be."
"Yeah, but people say things they don't mean all the time."
"I don't," he said.
I lifted a brow.
"One thing you should know about me, Freya, is my promises only get stronger over time."
"Good line," I said.
"It's the truth," he replied. "So, you gonna invite me in?"
"I'm still debating."
Tolliver nodded, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe. Not gonna lie, the pose did wonderful things for him. "Take your time. I was just thinking about the ice cream."
That made my ears perk up.
"Ice cream?" I repeated.
"Mmm," he said and pulled something out of the bag beside him. "Salted caramel, right?"
"How did you...?"
"You told me."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you were listening."
"I was." He shrugged. "I also brought spoons and napkins just in case."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"You ready to start reading?"
Before I could respond, Dad stepped up next to me, crossing his arms and wearing a frown that matched mine perfectly. He gazed hard at Tolliver.
"I thought I told you to leave," my father said.
Tolliver nodded. "You did, sir. But I came back to turn the pages."
Dad's lips twitched. "You're here for what now?"
"Freya, she needs someone to turn the pages for her. Because of her wrist."
"Her wrist," he repeated.
Tolliver nodded. "Apparently she reads a lot."
Dad scoffed.
"I also brought ice cream."
"Oh, what kind?"
"Salted caramel, sir."
"Well, that was thoughtful."
"I try."
Tolliver held out a hand.
"I'm Tolliver. Tolliver Stone," he said "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kent."
Dad took his hand in a strong grip and glanced at me. That look seemed to say, Is this kid for real?
I shot him a helpless shrug back. I know, right? Help me get rid of him.
My father shook his head then returned his focus to the hockey player.
"Nice to meet you, Tolliver. But I've gotta ask, why are you here so early?"
"Freya said she starts reading at dawn." Tolliver shot me a grin. "Didn't want to be late again."
"I told you not to come back at all," I said through gritted teeth. "Twice."
"Yeah, but I knew you didn't mean it."
My jaw dropped as Dad's laughter rang out.
"Well, this has been fun," he said. "I'll leave you two to it. Freya"—he turned to me—"you know the rules. No boys allowed in your bedroom unless the door is open."
"I didn't even know we had rules," I replied.
Dad blinked. "Well, we do."
"Since when?"
"Since always. I just haven't had to state them until now. You haven't brought a lot of boys home."
I almost said I didn't bring this one either. Tolliver came on his own. Technically, what my dad said was true. But...
"What about Wayne?" I asked, fighting back a wince because thoughts of my ex never failed to make me a little twitchy.
Dad shook his head. "You didn't even like Wayne."
Wrong.
I had liked him—a little. At first.
Not so much once I got to know him.
And definitely nowhere near as much as I liked Toll—
I cut the thought off immediately. It was entirely unhelpful.
"Well, neither did you," I said.
"True. Just...keep the door open, okay, kid?"
My cheeks were burning, but I nodded. "Okay."
"And Tolliver?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Keep your hands, lips, and any other body parts to yourself."
Oh my gosh. He did not just say that!
"If I find out you disrespected my daughter in any way, I'll hunt you down. She has uncles who love her. They'd help me hide the body. Do you understand?"
Tolliver's eyes were bright. "Yeah, no worries, Mr. Kent. I'll keep it respectful."
My father gave a curt nod.
He kissed me on the head then said, "I'll be in my room."
"And I'll be out here, dying of embarrassment," I mumbled back quietly which made him laugh again.
Once he was gone, I glanced at Tolliver fully expecting him to run away, tell me he had another page-turning appointment or something equally lame. But he didn't. Tolliver shook his head, looking after my dad in awe.
"Your dad is so cool," he said.
"Huh?"
"Threatening me right off the bat like that to protect you? Mad respect. He's a badass."
I sighed. Clearly, there was something wrong with Tolliver. But he was here now, and he did bring ice cream, so...
"Come on," I said, leading him to my room. "Just so we're clear, I read romance, and I don't care if you think that's stupid."
"I don't,'' Tolliver said.
"And I won't be judged for how much ice cream I eat either."
"I wouldn't—"
"I'm still depressed about the tour. This is how I cope."
"In case you forgot, I brought you the ice cream."
"Good point," I said, stopping in the doorway to my bedroom and turning to face him. "So, you're just here to help? Out of guilt and the goodness of your heart?"
Tolliver's brows scrunched. "Yeah...but it's more than that."
I waited.
"I like you, Freya."
"Really?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"You don't even know me," I said dismissively.
"I know more than you think," he said, and before I could ask what he meant, he gestured to the paperback lying on my bed. "So, what are we reading?"
* * *
It didn't take me long to figure out that he was serious.
We were reading.
Together.
From the same book.
Or at least, that's how things ended up.
It was less awkward than I thought it would be.
And it turned out much more intimate.
I started off determined to make this as difficult as possible for Tolliver, in hopes that he'd just give up and go home.
"I'll hold it, and you turn when I say," I said as I sat on the edge of my bed. "Be ready. I read fast."
"Yes, ma'am."
I frowned up at him. "No to the ma'am."
"You got it, chief," he replied.
My scowl only deepened at that.
"Darling? Sugar? Sweet cheeks?" he said.
"This is hopeless," I said. "You should just go."
"Nope, I'm committed. Plus, I want to know what happens between Eloise and the duke."
I squinted at him, studying his expression, trying to discern his true intentions.
Tolliver gestured to the book with his chin, standing in front of me like a sentinel or a servant. "Well?"
I dropped my gaze to the page in front of me.
The words swam before my eyes. My ability to focus was shot.
I was all too aware of him. There was a boy in my room.
A large male presence with broad shoulders, kind eyes, and an easy smile.
What was Tolliver thinking right now? Was he watching as I struggled to finish this first paragraph?
Glancing up, I discovered that yes. Yes, he was.
"Are you just going to stare at me the whole time?" I demanded.
Tolliver shrugged.
"Just"—I gestured vaguely to his person—"go on your phone or whatever."
"I'm good," he said.
"I'm sure you could find something more interesting to do. Play a game. Check your email. Text a friend and tell them how lame this is."
Tolliver's lips tipped up. "I don't think it's lame."
He gestured with his chin to my dresser. "I see you kept the flowers. They look good in here."
"Yeah, I almost threw them out but didn't have the heart."
False.
I loved flowers. It was the first time anyone besides my family got them for me. The yellow and blue blossoms really brightened the room. There was no way I'd trash them.
But Tolliver didn't need to know that.
"You're really not leaving?"
"Nope," he said.
"Fine." My brows scrunched as I attempted to dive back into the story, but... Sighing, I said, "I can't do this with you standing there."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because you're distracting. Looming over me like that."
"Okay."
I sighed again—but a little thrill went through me as Tolliver came close, sitting next to me on the bed.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"You didn't like the setup, said it was distracting."
I actually said he was distracting.
But now was not the time to argue semantics.
Tolliver arched a brow. "How else do you expect me to turn the pages?"
The truth was I'd never considered the logistics. But I was certainly thinking about them now. Tolliver's breath ghosted against the side of my neck as he said, "All good?"
I fought back a shiver. "Yep."
But it wasn't all good. I was so aware of Tolliver it took me nearly double the time that it usually would to read those first couple pages.
"Turn," I said.
Tolliver's long fingers moved the paper with ease, and I couldn't help but notice how strong his hands looked.
Focusing back on the story, I forced myself to pay attention.
It took me a second, but eventually, I got lost in the romance as I always did.
Tolliver's distracting hands were still there, but the story was getting good.
It wasn't until I said, "Page," and he said, "One sec.
I'm not done," that I came back to myself.
Suddenly, I realized how close we were, how he was stretching his neck to scan the words. The position did not look comfortable. At all. In fact, if he kept trying to read like that, I knew he would pull something. Hoping to avoid injury, I said, "Hey, why don't you just sit behind me?"
Tolliver shrugged then flipped the page. "I'm good here."
Rolling my eyes, I got up and directed him, "You sit against the headboard. It will be more comfortable. Trust me, I do this a lot."
"You sure you're okay with that?"
"I suggested it, didn't I?" I said.
With a quiet laugh, Tolliver settled against the pillows then looked at me with a brow raised. "This better?"
"Much."
"Okay, but where are you going to sit?"
Without thinking about it, I took a deep breath and lowered myself so I was seated once more. Only this time, I was sitting between Tolliver's legs. I could see one long thigh on either side of me as I raised the book again, wondering, What the heck were you thinking? This is so much worse.
My back was ramrod straight, my voice all business, as I asked, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Tolliver said. "Are you?"
I nodded.
I read a couple of paragraphs before Tolliver said, "You can't possibly be comfortable."
"What?" I scoffed. "Of course, I am."
"No offense, Freya. But you look stiff as a board."
Because I was.