7. Freya #2
I pinch my lips together to keep from screaming with laughter as our very patient blanket neighbors once again shush us both. The music rises, signaling the movie is coming to an end, which means credits will be rolling soon.
Wyatt, who’s on his knees, pins me down with one hand while his free one slowly creeps closer to that sweet spot on my side. The spot he knows is the most ticklish of all.
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss, but his eyes gleam—he’s about to make contact.
I prepare myself, ready to hold back more laughter, but when I look up at him, something changes.
His features soften and the energy shifts.
He isn’t so much trying to tickle me anymore; he’s still super close and he’s not trying to go away either.
The butterflies in my stomach are about to pop.
“Wyatt! Didn’t know you’d be here tonight. Hey, Freya, how are ya?”
Well, bless their hearts. We can thank Dub and a few other members of the fire department for the interruption of that magical moment. I really hope their timing is better when they have to put out a real fire.
Wyatt stands up to attention like a shot. “Hey, guys, didn’t expect to see you here.”
I stand up beside Wyatt, who walks a few steps away and is talking to Jack, while I say hello to Dub. “You guys here for the movie tonight?”
Dub nods, his silver hair shining as it reflects the lights in the park. “Jack was on call so we walked down for a bit. Fingers crossed it’s a quiet couple of days. Holidays can get crazy and fireworks never help the situation.”
“I bet. Will you be on hand with the safety crew for the fireworks display tomorrow?”
“Nah. I’ll be there for a bit as an observer, but then I’m going to that party. Didn’t Wyatt tell you?”
I shake my head, confused. “No. What are you talking about?”
“I thought Wyatt would have told you we‘re all going over to Dylan’s for the fireworks tomorrow night. He’s been helping her organize her party nonstop the last few days.”
“What? No, Wyatt didn’t tell me that was happening.”
“Wyatt didn’t tell you what?” Wyatt’s chosen the perfect moment to walk up behind me.
I spin around, putting a hand on my hip. “That you’ve been planning a party with your friend Dyls the last few days?”
Wyatt’s face clouds over as he crosses his arms across his chest, like he’s closing himself off to me. “Did Dub tell you that?” He cuts his eyes at the burly, older fireman.
“Me?” Clearing his throat, Dub’s hand flies to his chest, his index finger pointing to himself. “And…that’s my cue to leave. See you guys later.” Dub throws up a salute as he and Jack walk off, but I’m too busy and too focused to acknowledge either one of them.
“Yes, Dub told me, but that’s not the point.”
Wyatt rubs the side of his face. “I’m confused. Why are you calling her Dyls?”
“That’s a red herring. We both know I’m calling her Dyls because it’s not her name, it’s my attempt at being acerbic.
Were you going to invite me to go?” I can hear it: my voice cracks, threatening to reveal my feelings before I’m ready or have a plan for it.
“You’ve told me how she’s just a friend, but Dub said you’ve been busy the last few days helping her with this party.
You also told me you’ve been busy the last few days at the firehouse…
even going so far as to tell me you took an extra shift. What’s going on?”
“Freya, I’d help any of my friends set up for a party. It’s not a big deal.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, which is his tell for when he’s lying. Oh, Wyatt Hogan, I know you too well.
“You’re not telling me the whole truth, Wyatt.” It’s my turn to cross my arms. “You didn’t answer my question. Were you going to invite me to go with you to Dylan’s tomorrow night?”
I watch and wait. He shifts weight again to the other side. He knows that I know and the look on his face tells me I’m right.
“No.”
My stomach sinks with surprise and sadness. “No?”
“No, but I can explain why.” He steps forward and reaches out for my hand, but I take a step back.
Defensive habit, I guess, but I’m feeling a little let down.
Honestly, between the sudden burst of feelings I’ve had for Wyatt and getting to the point where I enlist my aunt to help me win him over with food is a big—no, scratch that— ginormous leap for me.
And, since I’m being honest, I’m feeling a little stupid that I got excited about the fact I might have a chance with Wyatt.
Stupid may be too strong a word, but I’m definitely feeling more vulnerable right now than I did when we were having a tickle fight in the middle of a packed park a few moments before.
My, how things can change on a dime.
All of this leads me to one thought: I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home, and I’m not even sure where home is at this point. Do I want to go to my apartment in New York or back to my grandmother’s, where Maisey is?
And it hits me. I want to be where Wyatt is because that’s home. But it seems like he doesn’t feel the same way. So what do mature independent women like me do in times like this?
We. Retreat.
I bend over and start gathering up the empty plates and cutlery strewn around the blanket, packing everything back into the basket. “I don’t need to hear your reasoning, Wyatt. I think I’m just really tired and have had a lot on my mind the last few days, so I’m going to go home.”
I can feel his eyes boring a hole in my back. “Freya, if you give me a chance, I can explain. I don’t want you to be upset.”
“I’m not upset, I’m disappointed.” I stop what I’m doing long enough to face him.
“I’ve been in the middle of a giant decision, weighing options and taking stock of the people I love and want to be around, and trying to figure out where I’m going to live.
It’s not as easy of a pick as I thought it would be.
And being here—in Lake Lorelei, where I love to be—is making things more confusing.
Just earlier today, I was thinking my choice was to stay?— ”
I stop myself from telling him. Telling Wyatt that I’m literally *thisclose* to moving back here.
“Stay here?” His voice sounds hopeful, or so I think. It could also be relief. Who knows.
“Yes. I mean no. Oh, I don’t know.” My hands fly to the top of my head, fingers twirling in my hair. I wanted to stuff my random thoughts back in if I could, but I can’t. “I’ve got too much going on. I can’t think straight, so I’m going.” I grab the basket and my things and start to walk away.
“Freya, I don’t want you to go.”
I turn and find Wyatt standing close to me, so close I swear I can see emotion swirling in his eyes.
“It’s not about what you want right now.
It’s about me, and I’m working at the cafe tomorrow for July Fourth.
It’s going to be busy, so I’m going to go get some rest. You should, too, you also have a big day, and night, planned for tomorrow. ”
Okay, that last part was petty, but I couldn’t stop it. It felt soooooo good to say.
I feel his eyes on me, still watching me as I start the trek back to my car.
I’d managed to find a parking spot near the border of the park, and if I knew Wyatt, he would still be standing there keeping tabs on me, watching my every move as I walked to my car.
He knows me well enough not to follow me, and for that I am thankful.
I don’t want him to see my tears of frustration that have finally escaped and are making their way down my cheeks right now.