"Just giving me the third degree about what we're doing. Your friends are kind of aggressive," I say. I've had Carrie and Willow and a lot of the other cheer girls giving me weird looks during practice for a while, and I think Tobi's little speech today explains why.
"I know," she says, crossing her feet and propping them on the coffee table.
"But I guess that's a good thing, because they're only looking out for you. Annoying, but sweet." I make a face and she rolls her eyes.
"They worry too much. About me and about things happening with the squad. We're not going to ruin anything. It's not like they even know. . . ." she trails off and I sense that she's said more than she wanted to. She seals her lips.
Time to go all in.
"You want to know why I'm going to work with kids?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. She blinks at the change in topic.
"Because you're good with them?" I shake my head.
"That's not the main reason. I want to work with kids that are in the foster care system. Because I was one." The color drains from her face, and she gasps and bolts to her feet.
"I . . . I need to go. Right now." What the fuck?
"What are you talking about?" I say as she's shoving her shoes on and grabbing her bag full of stuff to stay over.
"I just do, okay? Leave me alone, Rhett. Please." She's out the door, and this time I'm chasing after her, but she's quick and gets in her car and peels out of the driveway before I can make her stop and tell me what's going on.
I have two options. Go after her, or let it go.
Yeah, I'm not a "let it go" kind of guy.
So I run back upstairs, grab my keys, and throw myself into my truck.
13
Freya
Rhett was in the foster system? That's what he's been holding back from me? My brain can't process this. I don't know why I'm having such a visceral reaction to him, but brains don't make sense sometimes. I need to pull it together.
I get myself onto my bed, close my eyes, and try to breathe, but then there's someone banging on a door somewhere.
Go away, go away, go away.
Why can't everyone just leave me alone? I consider putting my hands over my ears, but that's not going to stop the sound. Why can't I have my moment in peace? I get up and storm out of my bedroom, intent on screaming at whoever is doing the banging on my neighbor's door only to find out that someone is banging on my door.
I don't need more than one guess to figure out who.
"Freya, please talk to me! I don't know what just happened, but I want to make sure you're okay. I need to make sure you're okay." He came to check on me. Not to yell, not to ask what the fuck is wrong with me. No, he came to check on me. And I ran away from him and treated him like shit.
Fuck.
My hands shake as I unlock the door slowly and open it just a few inches.
"I'm fine," I say in a voice that is anything but fine. Have you ever noticed that whenever someone says they're fine, it's the opposite? Fine has ceased to have all meaning as a word.
"Freya, please. Can I just . . . can I just come in for a minute?" His voice is so soft, and it's doing things to me. I bite my lip and consider my options.
"If I tell you to go away, will you go away?" I ask. A tiny part of me expects him to shove a foot in the crack in the doorway and push his way in. But he's not doing that. He's being respectful, and I don't even deserve it. I have no idea what must be running through his head.
"Absolutely. I would really like to see if you're okay with my own eyes first. If you'll let me." I take a breath and slowly open the door. There he is, in all his lumbersexual glory. A small (not that small) part of me wants to throw myself at him and fuck and cry and forget what just happened, but the rest of my brain is running the show and has put on the brakes.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rough and his face pinched with worry. Still an attractive bastard. Always.
"No. I'm not," I say. Might as well be honest and he might go away and leave me to my breakdown.
"Can you . . ." he stops and takes a breath.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I know I'm being strange and awful. But I can't let you crawl into my life and make yourself at home. I can't let you act like my boyfriend or my soul mate or whatever." I'm crying and I can't seem to stop. He reaches for me and I don't know how it happens, but I stumble into his warm arms and they encircle me and the world goes dark. He blocks everything out.
My body starts shaking again because I'm sobbing, and he's holding me and stroking my hair and not saying a word. His heart thunders in my ear. It's racing just as fast as mine.