"You do?" I ask. My mouth is dry. I'm still going on the assumption that all of this is too good to be true. That she's going to decide that I'm truly a dick and she doesn't want to deal with me anymore. Wouldn't surprise me at all. That would make more sense.
"Yeah," she says. She's shaking all over and I want to put my arms around her, but I also want her to get this out. I want her to take back control of this situation. I never should have taken it from her in the first place, but if there's something good coming out of this, that would be ideal.
"I think I needed a push. An external force. Because my own motivation clearly wasn't working." She laughs a little at herself. "Sad, isn't it? I came all the way here and couldn't do what I came here to do. Like a loser." I grip her hands.
"You're not a loser, Freya. You are never that. You did a brave and courageous thing. I shouldn't have interfered. But if you want to do this, I'll be with you every step of the way. You're not in this alone." And then she smiles, and I feel like I'm being blessed by the sun.
"Thanks. Maybe that's what I needed. To know I wasn't alone. I don't feel alone anymore." She looks down at our hands again and then brings them to her lips and kisses the back of my knuckles. I've missed her touch so much. It is totally wrong of me remembering what else those hands and lips can do, but it's crept into my mind.
"Good. That's all I want." Well, I want a few other things, but this is all I need for now. This is more than I deserve.
"I think you want a little more than that," she says with a wink. "But not right now. I think we should . . . I think we should maybe take a break from everything. You know. Be friends?" She sounds as if she's trying to convince herself as much as she's trying to convince me.
"Sure. I could be your friend." She snorts.
"You're such a liar. But then, so am I." Freya kisses my hand again. This time she licks my knuckles.
"If you want to be my friend, you're going to have to stop doing that." I'm rewarded with a sexy laugh.
"Maybe . . . Maybe I want to be more than your friend." Her face suddenly goes serious. My heart starts beating erratically.
"What do you mean?" She rests her face against my fingers.
"I don't want to just be your friend. But I don't know how to do that. And I'm still upset about everything. I can't jump into something serious. But . . . I guess what I mean is that I might want to try? I think?" Her smile is tremulous.
"Are you fucking serious?" I ask, clutching her hands.
"Um, yeah?"
It takes everything in me not to tackle her into the couch and claim her mouth.
"You want to be with me?" She bites her bottom lip and nods.
"Yeah. I think I do."
"You want me to be your boyfriend." I have to get clarity here. No gray area. All or nothing.
"I do," she says, nodding once. "Unless you don't want to be?" I look at her like she's said the most ridiculous thing in the history of the world, which she has.
"Freya, I have wanted to be your boyfriend ever since that first second I saw you at the bar. I've wanted that every single second since then. I want everything with you." I can't stop now. "But I can settle for being your boyfriend." I expect her to be terrified by my declaration, but she smiles again.
"I can settle for that too. And I think I might like being your girlfriend. Does it come with perks?" I laugh.
"More than the perks you've already got? Sure. I'll do anything for you, Luna. Anything." I take my hands from hers and reach for her face. She leans into me and our lips meet. Finally. Freya is like coming home. Only I've never really had one before. But this is what it must feel like.
"Anything," I say against her lips and she smiles.
"I might take you up on that."
* * *
Being Freya's boyfriend is . . . well, it's even better than being her "hang and bang" friend. I don't know what it is about that definition, but I fucking love it. I use that word as much as I can. I take any opportunity I can to insert the phrase "my girlfriend" into conversation. I'm sure everyone (especially Jem) is annoyed as hell with me, but I'm literally not sorry. I'm happier than I've ever been and I will not apologize for it.
We hold out on sex for like . . . a day after we make up. Freya comes back to cheer too, and Coach almost cries. I would have hated myself if she cut the thing she loved out of her life because of me.
As far as Freya's mother, a week after our makeup and change in relationship status, she asks me if I'll send another message to Rebecca. I've tried to think of her by her name and not "Freya's birth mother."