Page 14 of Blindsided
“He just caught a whiff of your scent and bolted right over my little toe!” Freya nearly shouts, flipping her wet red hair away from her face and giving me a view of her freshly washed freckles. “The day Hercules doesn’t go berserk at the mere scent of you will be the day that I’ll start to believe you when you tell me I’m bonnie.” She lowers her injured toe to the ground and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Headache?” I ask knowingly.
She nods and slumps back against the wall. “Why did I let them give me booze last night?” I reach out for her neck, and she flinches. “What are you doing?”
I level her with a hard stare. “Would you hold still, woman? It’s a wee bit early in the day for you to be so bristly. Turn your head and look forward.”
She does as I say, and I sweep the wet strands over her shoulder to give myself access to the back of her neck. She smells like minty shampoo and a hint of lavender. It’s a pleasant combination, but I focus on the task at hand. My fingers wrap around the base of her skull, right on the narrow part of her neck, and squeeze.
She closes her eyes and lets out a low moan. “Oh, ouch.”
“This is a trick my mum taught me,” I murmur softly. “Just ride out the pressure, and it’ll be worth it.”
“That’s what she said,” Freya says, and her shoulders shake with a breathy laugh.
“You’re such a child,” I reply, rubbing my thumb and forefinger over the tendons in her neck.
“You’re rubbing off on me,” she replies and then sinks into the pressure.
My eyes move from where my hand is on her neck to her shoulders, and eventually to her chest. There’s a stirring that happens deep in my groin at the sight of her skin on display, and I quickly look up at the ceiling to stop that crap right in its tracks. After thirty seconds, I release her neck, and her eyes flutter open.
When she turns to look at me, her forest green eyes are ten times more relaxed than before.
“That’s incredible. My headache is gone.”
I nod. “I’d still take some aspirin if I were you. You drank enough for an entire football team last night.”
She gives me a shove before turning to head into her bedroom. “I’ll be right out.”
I make myself at home in the living room, flicking on the telly to a sports channel and setting up our cookies and coffee. I’m taking my first sip when Freya comes out in a pair of black leggings and a white T-shirt.
I shake my head. “Covering those bonnie legs is a crime.”
She rolls her eyes and flops down beside me, gesturing for her coffee, which I hand her. We nibble on the cookies silently for a few minutes before she croaks out, “So tell me, how awful was I last night?”
My brows lift. “Do you not remember?”
She shrugs. “I remember, but I’m wondering what the outsider perspective would be.”
I sit back on the sofa and prop my feet on the table. “I think the people who didn’t know you have no idea you were pissed. Sloan, Leslie, and Allie, on the other hand…I think they might suspect you were out of your mind a bit.”
Freya groans. “Yeah, I’ve been texting with Allie this morning. I was so stupid. I knew I shouldn’t have drank that tequila. I don’t know what I said to that Santino bloke, but he texted me this morning, too. I don’t even remember giving him my number.”
I stiffen and level her with a glare. “What did he say?”
“Nothing. Just that he had fun.” She shrugs. “I have absolutely no idea what to do with that, so I haven’t responded.”
“Good,” I reply. “Don’t.”
Freya frowns at me. “Why not?”
I clear my throat and set my coffee down. “Santino isn’t a guy you should be messing about with. Please just trust me on that one.”
Freya huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Who should I be messing about with?”
I exhale heavily. “Well, that’s what I came here to talk to you about.”
Freya’s eyes widen. “Mac?”
