"How's it going? Feeling better?" I ask once he's finished and is wiping his face with a towel.
"Yeah, fine. I think it was just a twenty-four-hour thing," he says, panting a little.
"Oh, that's good. Would have been a shame for you to miss practice again. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over. Or have me come over. Or . . . you know." I can feel my face getting red, and I look around to make sure that no one can overhear me. I don't know why I'm suddenly being shy with him. It's not like we haven't fucked before.
But now . . . I don't know. Rhett's seen me break down. He knows what my hair looks like in the morning. There's a toothbrush that he's used hanging out next to mine in my bathroom. Even though I've tried to keep up boundaries, he's sunk into my life anyway. Not that I did much to stop him. I let it happen. I wanted it to happen.
"Yeah, I'd like that," he says, his voice low and intimate. Like we're completely alone and not in a room full of sweating college students.
"Yours or mine?" I ask.
"Whichever. Doesn't matter." Well, one of us has to make a decision.
"Yours. I'll bring my stuff," I say. I need to get out of my life for a night.
"Sounds good. I'll go grocery shopping." He gives me a smile and my entire body is a riot of tingles and flutters and how can his smile do that to me? I see it all the damn time, but it still works on me. I close my eyes for a moment and take a breath.
"Good," I say again. "I'll see you later." If I don't hurry home now, I'm going to miss my first class.
* * *
I dash home after practice (which is light years better than yesterday's) and for some reason, I can't decide what to wear. I've never cared what I wore in front of Rhett before. Mostly since he's seen me in everything and nothing. So why do I want to impress him now? It's all backward.
Get a grip, Freya.
I don't stop myself before I reach into my drawer and find my cutest bra and undies set. It's relatively new and in a dark red lace that makes me look like a sexy vampire. Or something. I know it's ridiculous, but I end up putting it on under my T-shirt and sweatpants.
Totally ridiculous. He's going to notice that I'm wearing something different, and he's going to comment on it and then I'm going to be embarrassed. Seriously, though, that's not the worst thing that's happening to me lately. I've got so much other shit going on, why does this matter?
I think I'm losing my damn mind.
* * *
By the time I show up at Rhett's, I'm fretting and stressed and he notices immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I say, shaking my head and dropping my bag. "Food first. Fuck after," I say and he raises his brows.
"Direct."
"That's me," I say with what I hope is a convincing smile.
"French onion soup okay?" Perfect. I definitely need some sort of comfort food. Melissa made the best French onion soup. She'd always bring it to me in the same ceramic container with blue flowers on it when I was sick. I miss that dish.
"Yeah," I say and go to the kitchen to help him chop a shit-ton of onions.
* * *
After we've both cried from the onions and simmered them for-freaking-ever, the soup is made and we're on the couch.
"Do you want to play cards or something?" he asks.
"Um, sure," I say. We usually just watch movies and so forth, but whatever. He gets out a deck.
"What do you want to play?" he asks me. I shrug.
"I don't really know many games. Except War. Mia and I used to play that all the time." Dammit. I didn't mean to say her name, but he doesn't even pick up on it. Or maybe he does and he just hides it well.
"War it is," he says, shuffling the cards with a flourish and then dealing them out. It's a basic game where you both put a card down and the highest wins both cards. We decide aces are high and then flip our cards. Usually Mia and I played until one person had collected the entire deck, which could take hours. Sometimes we would go all night. Or try to.
The only sound is of the cards sliding against each other and the swipe of our hands as we pick up the ones we've won.
"You sure you're doing okay?" I ask as we flip and he wins my card and his own back.
"Yup," he says, focusing entirely on the cards.
"Okay then," I say, sighing.
"Are you?" Well, crap. I didn't know he was going to do that.
"Yup," I say and now I'm the one who can't take their eyes off the cards.
"You don't want to talk about what happened the other night by any chance, do you?" Now I look up to find him watching me. I slap down an ace. He puts down a four. I swipe the two cards.