Page 89 of Unloved

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, lifting up the pizza box in his hand as he smiles at me the moment I open the door.

“Freddy.” I slump against the doorframe, biting my lip. “Now’s not a great time.”

His cheeks pink while his entire demeanor deflates like a kicked puppy. “Oh, right. Sorry, I didn’t know you had someone—”

“You ordered pizza?” Liam asks, coming around into the frame and staring up at a wide-eyed Freddy. Liam cocks an eyebrow at me after finishing his quick examination. “Did you scare the pizza man? Sadiealwaysscares the pizza man.”

I laugh and shake my head. “No, this is my friend Freddy. Freddy”—I grab Liam around the shoulders and pull him toward me—“this is Liam, Sadie’s brother.”

“Hi.” He grins sheepishly.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah.” He blows out a breath, stepping across the threshold.

Following Liam toward the living room area, I quietly eavesdrop as Freddy answers all the six-year-old’s bubbling questions—Are you on the hockey team? Is Rhys your bestest friend? Do you score all the goals?—the last one followed quickly with, “Nowayyou’re better than my brother. His name is Oliver.” He points to his sibling unnecessarily.

Freddy smirks at the stoic twelve-year-old. “Yeah? What position do you play?”

“I used to play wing, but I’m on the D-line now.” He shrugs. “I’m the biggest on my team.”

He isn’t arrogant, just stating a fact.

Liam bursts in with, “Yeah, and Coach Max says he’s got—um, what did you call it again?”

“Protective instincts.” Oliver blushes a little with a frown still emblazoned across his face. He looks like Sadie, dark brown hair and gray eyes, but even more with his lightly freckled skin flushed in embarrassment and the wrinkle in his brow.

I grab a stack of paper plates off the high shelf in the kitchenette and join them in the living room, where Freddy is leaning over Liam, who is now sitting on the pillows we laid on the floor, to open the pizza box.

Every flavor of pizza, different-sized slices shoved together to make a mismatched whole pie.

“What’s with the hodgepodge pizza?” Oliver asks, lip curling a little at the entirely random assortment of slices in the box.

“Nice word, Ollie,” I quietly praise as I pass by.

“It’s the leftovers from the hockey team dinner at Koteskiy’s,” Freddy says, clearing his throat. “I thought it was sweet, but now that I’m looking at it, it’s just weird and kinda gross.”

His hand curves around the back of his neck, scratching and fussing with golden waves. He sits with his wide back toward the kitchen, Liam to his right, Oliver grabbing another water bottle for his brother.

I can’t resist touching Freddy, reaching as I set the stack of plates on the coffee table to mess with his hair and shoo his hand away.

“Very weird and kinda gross,” I repeat teasingly. “I love it.”

He relaxes, almost preening up at me.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I nod. As I start to step away, his hand trails up my exposed calf, squeezing gently before letting me go.

The goose bumps trailing after his touch linger long after I’ve settled onto the floor pillows on my side of the coffee table, grabbing the remote to start the movie back up.

Liam falls asleep less than an hour later, slumped slightly onto Freddy’s bicep. The usually fidgeting hockey star doesn’t move a muscle until I stand and offer to take Liam.

“He can sleep in Sadie’s bed for now. I haven’t rolled out the mattresses.”

Freddy wrinkles his brow slightly before whispering, “Is it okay if I carry him?”

But he isn’t asking me, he’s asking Oliver to his right. The elder of Sadie’s brothers nods, and my throat catches a little as Matt Fredderic tucks his palm against the back of Liam’s head and angles him to his front so he can stand with the six-year-old already cradled in his arms. He pads lightly to Sadie’s room, shifting his little cargo to open the door with ease.

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