"It's okay. You just have a way of popping up when I least expect you, don't you?" I ask, trying to get my heart beating at a normal rhythm. Dammit, Rhett.
Now my heart and body are distracted by staring at him under the orange glow of the streetlight. Somehow the terrible lighting works for him, making his face look like it was chiseled lovingly by an ancient sculptor. His broad shoulders would be intimidating under certain circumstances, but I've seen how they move and flex.
I'm gonna need my brain to shut the fuck up about Rhett's bod.
"Yeah, well, I miss you." My mouth drops open.
"You miss me?" I have no idea what the crap he's talking about. We see each other almost every damn day. I see him too much, really. I see him at the gym. I see him at practice. I see him when I close my eyes. I see him all. The. Fucking. Time.
"I miss talking to you. I thought the best thing to do would be to back off, but fuck that. I like talking to you. I like being around you. I like the look on your face when I annoy you, which is most of the time. I'd like to be friends with you, Freya, if I can. If you'd have me."
"I need . . . what?" My brain refuses to make words or sentences come out of my mouth. He wants to be my friend? Have they changed the definition of "friendship" and I didn't get the memo?
"Why?" I say and he laughs again.
"Because you surprise me. And you make me laugh. And yes, you're easy to look at, but it's more than that. I'm not trying to pull something over on you. I really would like to be your friend." If I didn't know him better, I'd think he was working some kind of angle. But I've spent enough time with him to know that he's not that kind of guy.
I search his eyes for a while. They really are lovely, and all I can see shining out of them is sincerity. Friends, huh?
"You are such a weirdo," I say and he chuckles, a sound that really gets to me.
"Yeah, you've called me that before. I like it." Seriously, he is one strange fellow. I've never met anyone quite like him.
"I have no idea what to do with this information. I think I need some time to think about it. Like, at least twenty-four hours." He nods.
"That's fair. If there's anything I can do to help make the case for me being your friend, let me know. I make an excellent baked macaroni and cheese." Now I'm back to wanting to punch him again. Mac and cheese is one of my absolute favorites. No one makes it like Mia's mom. No one. But I'd be interested to see him try to beat hers.
"Show me," I blurt out. That wasn't what I meant to say. I meant to tell him that I'd see him tomorrow morning. I'm not feeling so tired anymore. Just hungry. In more ways than one.
"Okay. Is now good?" He doesn't miss a beat.
"Sure," I say, throwing caution to the wind. What do I have to lose? If he makes it and it sucks, then I will have that piece of ammunition to use against him for a while. I need all the help I can get to combat his smile and his tattoos and his charm, such as it is.
"Let's go," he says.
"Why don't you take your car so you can follow me?"
I nod and throw my study shit in the back of my car. What the hell am I doing? I think.
What the hell am I doing? He gets into his truck and flashes me a grin.
Oh, right. I have no willpower.
Rhett
That was a lot easier than I thought. I'm still not sure she's fully aware of what she agreed to, but she follows me and I pat myself on the back for cleaning top to bottom earlier today.
It's pure coincidence that I also went grocery shopping and got all the ingredients I needed for mac and cheese. I was going to save it for Monday night and maybe invite Jem over, but this is a better opportunity by far.
I pull into my complex and park, and she pulls into the space beside me. I get out and open her door for her. She looks like a rabbit, about to bolt.
"So, this is it," I say. She nods, looking up at the facade.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yup. I'm just wondering why I thought this was a good idea, but also I'm starving and I really want to see if you have cooking skills or if you're full of shit. There's a lot going on in my brain right now." The words tumble out of her mouth in an uninterrupted string. Guess I'm not the only nervous one.
"Well, I can help with one of those things. I can feed you, at least."
"Good. Because I'm starving." She grants me a little smile and my stomach drops a little.
I wasn't full of shit when I said I wanted to be her friend. If that's all I will ever have, I'll take it. I want her not to hate me. Not talking to her didn't do much to help, so maybe feeding her will. There's that saying about the way to a man's stomach, but I think it applies in this case as well.