"You really are good at this," she says, and I realize her cheek is almost pressed up against my arm. She's leaning into me. I don't even know if she realizes she's doing it.
I'm afraid to move because I don't want her to back away. I can feel the heat of her body near mine.
"I think they're done," she says softly and I realize they definitely are. I slide them onto a plate and hand it to her.
"Syrup and butter are in the fridge, and if you need anything else, help yourself," I say and start pouring out some more pancake batter into the pan.
"I don't want to eat without you. Seems a bit rude," she says, setting the plate down.
"I can wait."
Her pancakes are probably going to be cold at that point, but I like that she wants us to eat at the same time. I turn up the heat just a touch so my pancakes will cook faster and soon we're sitting at my small dining table and making our way through two stacks of pancakes.
"How is it that everything you make is fucking fantastic?" she asks through a mouthful. At first I thought that Freya would be a delicate eater. She looks like she's a delicate eater.
Not so much, but it's cute as hell. It's not that she's a gross eater. Freya enjoys her food and she eats a lot of it. Without any shame, which is great.
"It's a gift," I say, wiping syrup off my beard. I have to make sure crumbs don't get stuck in it all the time. I'd shave it, but it keeps my face warm in the winter, and I like the way it makes my face look. I'm not sure how Freya feels about it. I hope she likes it.
But if she wanted me to shave it, I probably would. I'd do almost anything she asked of me.
"I wish I had that gift. Pretty much the only thing I'm good at is cheer. And binge-watching stuff. Oh, and sometimes taking pictures. And writing, I guess." I give her a look.
"There's a lot of things you're wonderful at, Freya. Don't you know that?" She raises both eyebrows.
"How would you know?"
How would I not?
"I don't know, because I spend a significant portion of my waking hours with you? And I spend a lot of time lifting you up and down and up and down and up and down again." She rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, I get it. But that still doesn't mean you know shit about me." I know plenty about her, but she clearly doesn't like that and doesn't want me to.
"Okay. Fine. I don't know shit about you, Freya." I stab the last bits of pancake off my plate and shove them in my mouth. I'm not mad, but she's starting to get steamed up. I know her well enough now to see the signs. Her eyes narrow just the tiniest bit and then her mouth tightens at the edges.
Like what's happening right now.
"I really don't know why I come over here," she says, picking up her plate and heading into the kitchen.
"It's the food," I call after her.
"Yup. Just the food!" She turns on the sink and rinses off her dishes. I pick up my plate and take a chance by walking up behind her.
"You don't have to be pissed, Freya. I was giving you a compliment." I've hit on a sore spot and I don't know why, but I need to so I don't do it in the future. Learning Freya.
She makes a grumbly sound and turns off the sink before facing me.
"Look, I'm not a huge fan of people trying to shove their way into my life. The people that are in my life are people I've chosen. Carefully." I wait for her to continue.
"And you're . . ." she trails off and gestures to me with one hand.
"I'm what?" I'd very much like to know what I am.
"You're a pain in my ass," she says and I chuckle.
"But I make damn good food. And I'm charming. And I save you from busting your ass during practice." She glares at me and then sighs.
"Okay, you are all of those things and that's what's so annoying. You're not part of the plan, Rhett." That's fine. She wasn't part of my plan, but plans fucking change. They shift all the time. But her life is her life, and she can live it however she wants. I'd just like to be part of it any way I can.
"So what are you saying?" I ask, crossing my arms. Her eyes rake my tattoos before coming back up to focus on my face.
"I'm saying that I don't know. I need . . . I need for you not to be a distraction. But I also like being around you. Don't let that go to your head." She points a finger at me and I lift my hands in surrender, but I can't stop the stupid grin that covers my face.
"Does this mean you're going to continue to have dinner with me? And maybe breakfast?" She's costing me money for the extra food, but I can pick up some extra hours if I need to. I can handle it.