Chapter Twenty-One #2
I shrugged. “I definitely don’t feel like one right now. I shouldn’t’ve…”
“You didn’t force him to drink,” Freddie said with surety.
I swallowed, barely able to maintain his gaze. “I could’ve stopped it.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Well…” I frowned, thinking about how Adam might not agree with that statement. I stifled a yawn, stretching my face instead.
Freddie got up from his chair. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
“Oh, I’ll be ok. I’ll get a taxi or something.”
“At four in the morning on New Year’s Day?”
I shrugged. “Good point. I’ll walk.”
He nodded. “Come on then.”
Someone in a nearby cubicle coughed pointedly. I gave Freddie a silent, “Oops,” then leant over to kiss Sam on the forehead. Poor, silly moron. At least he would be ok. That’s all that mattered. I couldn’t take my eyes off his pale, sleeping face, golden, sweaty hair swept back as I left.
In the hallway, the lights were down low and there was the distant sound of someone typing. I finally turned to hand Freddie his coat back before I made my way home. He stared at it but didn’t take it.
“Who do you take me for, Hattie?” he said, not harshly but there was a hint of exhaustion in his tone.
“Er…”
“Put the coat on. It’s -2 degrees outside. The roads are covered in ice.”
I looked down at my heeled boots and bare legs. He was right. This walk was going to be torture. It would be nice to have a coat on at least. “How will I get it back to you?”
“You can hand it to me once we get to your door.”
“Eh?”
He sighed, a disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. “You thought I was going to let you walk home alone? In the dark? In the tightest minidress I think I’ve ever seen?”
I snorted. “It’s not even my tightest. There’s no way it’s the tightest you’ve ever seen.” I blushed at my comment, wondering if there was accidental innuendo there. “I remember the girls you had at the parties.”
He didn’t even attempt to defend himself. “Please let me walk you home.”
“What about Sam? I don’t know if we should leave him.”
“He’s in the best place for him and he’s not waking up any time soon. I’ll come right back here after. He’ll be absolutely thrilled to see me when he wakes up.”
He said the last sentence without mirth, but I sniffed, knowing Sam wouldn’t be happy to find Freddie there at all. Even if that was exactly what he needed. They’d not seen eye to eye in such a long time.
Come to think of it, had I ever seen them getting along?
“Put the coat on,” he said again. “Please.”
“You’re going to freeze, though,” I pointed out.
He just tilted his head as if to say I was being difficult.
“Fine. And fine, you can walk me to Adam’s.”
“You live with him?”
I didn’t answer until we’d left the hospital and were breathing in the icy, misty air on London’s streets.
The cold hit my bare skin like a knife edge.
I instantly regretted letting Freddie talk me into leaving, despite being exhausted and craving my bed.
He had his hands tucked under his arms, so I knew he was feeling it too.
Mine were tucked into his toasty coat pockets.
I could feel a half-eaten pack of chewing gum in one and what felt like receipts in the other.
“I moved in with Adam a few months ago. It felt right,” I finally answered.
Freddie nodded. “I don’t live far from here. I’ll pop by mine and grab Sam some stuff to wear. Take him some snacks too.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“He still wearing shorts in the snow?”
I laughed. “Oh yeah.”
“Good to know.”
“He misses you, I think,” I said. “But he’s disappointed in something. He doesn’t tell me what. I just know whenever he brings you up, he sounds sad, not angry.”
“Sounds about right. Everyone is usually disappointed in me.”
“I doubt that’s true.”
“No, it is. I don’t ever seem to make anyone happy.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. I’d need a million hot water bottles on my legs to warm up once I got in. “God, you’re so brooding sometimes,” I said in jest. “You’re worse than Jon Snow.”
“The news guy?”
“No! The Game of Thrones character. You know… ‘You know nothing, Jon Snow.’ That guy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Pfft. You should watch it.”
He smirked. “Oh yeah? Will it teach me how to make good decisions?”
“Ha! Fuck no. Well, unless you’re planning to overthrow a royal family or something.”
“I’d better watch it then,” he said, with that familiar sparkle in his eye.
My tummy flipped so I focused once again on the icy pavements.
We finally came to Adam’s block of flats. Sara had run in to grab my phone and keys before the ambulance left so at least I wasn’t locked out. She said everyone had decided to go home after the incident as it didn’t feel right to stay anymore. I wondered how moody Adam had been with my friends.
“So, this is your flat then?” Freddie said.
I looked up at the modern complex and felt suddenly embarrassed by it. It wasn’t very me at all. “Well, it’s Adam’s.”
“But you live with him, so it’s yours too, right?”
“No, it’s definitely his. I’m not even sure if London is for me. Hopefully, we’ll move back to the coast one day before we get married.”
Freddie nearly choked. “You’re engaged?”
My eyes went wide. “Oh. No. No, it’s just a plan. Adam always talks about it. It’s something he wants. You know, marriage, kids. He’s serious about us.”
If Freddie had an opinion on this, he kept it to himself. “All I know,” he said, leaning in towards me, “is that if my girlfriend was living with me permanently, I’d want her to say our flat, not just mine.”
I grimaced. “Yeah. It just doesn’t feel like mine. All my art is still at my parents as there’s no space for it here.” That wasn’t true. Adam just didn’t like the clutter. And the way I did art was messy and generally chaotic. Which was funny, since my final pieces were always so serene.
“I still have that red boat painting you did,” he suddenly remarked. “It’s in my hallway, actually. So I see it every time I leave or enter the house. It reminds me of home.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know you had that. I gave it to your mum.”
He nodded, a spark in his eye. “I might’ve stolen it and blamed it on Dad.” He tapped his nose. “Perks of being a child of divorce.”
“Are you still a child of divorce if it happened when you were, what, twenty?”
“Absolutely.”
“Right. Makes sense.” I had to look down at the road for a moment to hide my blush. Freddie had one of my pieces in his own flat. It felt weirdly intimidate. “That one wasn’t perfect. I didn’t get the sunlight quite right.”
“I’ve never even noticed. I just stare at the boat in the middle of all that grey and think…” he paused, looking at my hair. It was probably frizzy from the damp, icy air but there was never any denying it had a tint of red in it. He swallowed. “You still paint, right?”
I gaped at him, unsure where he’d been going with the previous sentence. What does the red boat remind him of?
“Not really,” I said, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat that were too long for me.
“I’m working as a receptionist right now in some snotty, abstract art gallery.
They seem to be really stretching the whole thirty-seven hours a week thing they promised.
Besides, Adam pointed out it wasn’t like I could make any money from it anyway. ”
Freddie didn’t quite roll his eyes, it was more of an eye shake; either way, that statement pissed him off. “Hattie. I would pay good money for your paintings. And I know others would too. You’re talented.”
Was he trying to kill me with compliments? I was heating right up. I could’ve combusted right there on the spot. I couldn’t look at him, kicking a stone on the road between my boots. “You’re just being kind.”
“Please start painting again,” he practically whispered.
“I know you sketch,” I said. Anything to divert the conversation away from me.
Freddie blinked. “Sorry?”
“That time in Brighton. In your hotel room,” I was quick to explain myself. “You had a sketchbook.”
The remaining colour drained from his face as he stared back at me in shock. “Did you look through it?”
“Oh, er…”
“I don’t draw for other people. They’re just for me. A way to clear my head of things.” He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Did you look?”
“I…” I didn’t think he was ready to know I’d seen the sketch of me, so I shook my head. “Only one. The bit of paper was poking out. It was a lamp or something.”
He scrutinised my face, the colour finally returning to his cheeks. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, and I wouldn’t have lied if he had asked me.
But right then, he visibly shivered.
“Oh shit,” I said, hauling the coat off and practically launching it at him. In the process, I slipped on some ice, my boot flying up from underneath me.
I must’ve been inches from my arse hitting the floor when I was caught, one strong arm around my waist. His face was so close, I could feel the brush of his chocolatey breath on my nose. His gaze traced the line of my lips, my nose and finished at my eyes.
I swallowed, my tummy dipping like a rollercoaster on a descent.
This felt wrong. Adam was upstairs. It felt wrong that it felt right.
He must’ve read my thoughts because he helped me to my feet again. I fished my keys from my boot and waved awkwardly as he released me, heading towards the doors.
“Hey, let me see your keys,” he said, before I could fully escape him.
He slid his arms into his coat. Damn. He looked good in that coat. It was akin to Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones. I wanted him to wrap me in it and rub my frozen nose against his.
Weird, Hattie. Very weird.
I knew what he wanted to see and smiled. I held up the storm-cloud charm. It had lost some of its shine from overuse. I dangled it in front of him.
He nodded, a big, bashful smile taking over his face. “Look after yourself, storm cloud.”
“And you,” I said.
“I want to see you get in. I’ll get Sam to message you once he’s awake.”
“Thank you, Freddie.” I finally stepped through the main doors, using my key fob to access the building. Once I was in the lift, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning like an idiot.