"Never," I say, and bump her back with my shoulder.
"You're such a pain in the ass." She crosses her arms, but there's a grin on her face that she's trying to hide.
"Yes, but I'm a pain in the ass that is making you food." Freya narrows her eyes.
"Maybe I won't eat it," she says, thrusting her chin out. But then her stomach growls.
"Good luck with that, Freya," I say. I love saying her name. It's such a beautiful one.
She makes a huffy noise and sits back farther.
This is the longest we've talked since the time I took her out for breakfast.
"I wish I'd never gotten drunk and dared you to try out for the squad that night." I can't tell if she's really serious or joking. There's so much that goes on under the surface with her that I have no idea what she's thinking sometimes.
"Because now you're stuck with me?" She turns her head and looks at me.
"Because now I'm stuck with you."
* * *
The macaroni and cheese comes out fabulously, which is great. I was so worried that something would go wrong, even though I've made it so many times without incident.
"This is so fucking good, I could die," Freya says through a mouthful. She's shoveling it in and it's really cute. Seeing her enjoy it is better than eating it myself.
"Glad you're enjoying it," I say as she wipes her mouth with a paper towel.
"I thought it was going to suck, but it's so good. Holy crap." She can't stop gushing about how good it is, and I feel like a billion bucks. I can feel my head starting to swell.
"Is it the best you've ever had?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows. She's so busy eating that she doesn't even get the innuendo.
"It's better than Melissa's." She takes a breath and gulps down some soda. I'm actually worried about her choking, she's shoveling it in so fast.
"Take it easy," I say, laughing a little. "Who's Melissa?" She looks up at me, startled. Another thing she said that she didn't mean to say.
"Um, my best friend's mom. We're really close." She dives back into her food, and I go ahead and dish more onto her plate.
"Yeah?" I say, hoping she'll go on.
"Yup," she says and stops talking. Even though it's been hard to get anything out of her, she has let a few things slip that I tuck into my brain.
Freya finishes her second plate of macaroni and cheese, puts her fork down, and leans back in her chair.
"Oh my God, I feel like I'm going to die, but it was totally worth it." She folds her hands over her stomach and sighs.
"Glad you enjoyed it. Anytime you want some more, just let me know. I can also make enchiladas, tacos, baked spaghetti, chili, and a ton of other things. Come over anytime. What are friends for?" She rolls her eyes.
"I didn't say that we were going to be friends. I told you I need to think about it."
"I know, I know," I say, balling up the paper towel that I'd been using and tossing it on my empty plate.
"But this definitely doesn't hurt your case," she says, pointing to the casserole dish.
"Food usually helps, I've found," I say.
"Funny how that works." She sighs contentedly and looks at the clock I have on the wall.
"Shit, it's really late. We both have to be up early tomorrow too." She groans.
"I hate running with the fiery passion of a thousand suns." I burst out laughing.
"Yeah, I can tell. You're always wearing the grumpiest face every morning," I say and she glares at me.
"I do not make a grumpy face, you asshat." But she's smiling.
"Yeah, you do. It's adorable. I look forward to it." Shit, I shouldn't have said that.
Her cheeks color, and I think she's happy with the compliment because she bites her bottom lip a little. Fuck. That's hot.
Being Freya's friend is not going to be easy.
Down, boy, I say to my dick.
"Shut up," she whispers and then stands up with a little bit of a groan.
"Fuck. I need to get home and go to sleep. I'm totally fried."
"Sure," I say and she picks up her plate and carries it to the sink.
"Thanks, um, for everything. This was . . . nice?" I chuckle.
"You make that sound like a question." I set my plate on top of hers, and our hands are inches away on the rim of the sink. This is ridiculous. I touch her all the time. I know her body. She knows mine. But when we're in practice, it's different. Our bodies are just . . . machines. Carrying out a task.
Here and now, the air is thick and everything is different.
Freya looks up at me and blinks once.