Page 46 of Blindsided
“Aye, since Cami. Over a year ago.”
“Holy shit.” Freya chews her lip for a second and adds, “You haven’t been with anybody since Cami?”
“I think you would have noticed if I had been, Cookie,” I reply, sitting back against the bed to hold my coffee against my chest.
Her brows pinch together. “You travel a lot during the season. Surely, there was some random girl in some random city you went to.”
“No,” I reply simply. “Just me old hand giving me a crack.”
Her nose wrinkles. “That surprises me.”
“It’s been a proper dry spell, that’s for sure,” I reply, glancing down at her legs again. “Actually, Roan thought I was shagging you for several months when we first started hanging out.”
Freya’s eyes widen. “He did?”
I nod and smile. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
“It did?” Freya’s dropped jaw makes me laugh.
“Aye, are you saying it never crossed your mind?”
Freya flushes and gets an uncomfortable look on her face.
“Okay then, I guess it was one-sided,” I reply, my jaw taut as a sense of rejection overwhelms me. My jaw tics as I set my coffee down and move to get off the bed.
“It wasn’t one-sided,” Freya says in a rush, stopping me by placing a hand on my leg. “I just…never really gave myself the hope, I guess. I was an almost thirty-year-old virgin until last night, so I rarely ever give myself hope with men. I never would have imagined you’d think of me sexually.”
I throw my legs off the edge of the bed so I’m sitting beside her, my boxers just barely containing my morning wood. I turn and eye her speculatively. “Do you remember that night we went out in a limo with the Harris family? Vi coupled you and me off for that ridiculous group ballroom dancing lesson, and we ended up at the club downstairs afterwards to test out our moves?”
“The night when my heels trashed my feet so badly you had to carry me out of the club?” she asks, blinking as she recalls that evening.
“Aye, that’s the night.” I swallow hard as memories of my own flood the forefront of my mind. “I wanted you that night. Badly. Things with Cami and I had just ended, and I was lonely, and you were so cute in your flirty skirt and bare feet.”
“Seriously?” Freya barks, a laugh on her face. “You wanted to hook up that night? Was I hot to you before or after I hobbled myself with those ridiculous shoes?”
I fight back a laugh. “I must have a thing for damsels in distress because it was definitely after. I helped you into your flat, and it was the first time I’d been over here, and…I don’t know, I thought we had a moment.”
Freya’s eyes blink in surprise as she clearly tries to recount the night that happened well over a year ago. “I had no idea you even looked at me like that.”
I shrug. “Freya, I’m a bloke. I think with my cock ninety percent of the time.”
“So why didn’t you make a move that night?”
I exhale heavily because it’s not the first time I’ve given that question some thought. God, she was so sexy that night. So unassuming and real. Hilarious without even trying to be. I knew from the moment I met her that she was not one of those women who blends into a crowd, even if she’s trying to. She’s a standout, and I wanted her naked so badly I could taste it.
But from the moment I met Freya, she’d always felt different than other girls. She made me feel like my true self at a time I wasn’t sure who my true self even was. I couldn’t risk losing that by shagging her.
“I realised I liked you too much to treat you like all the other women in my life,” I reply thoughtfully as I look forward and rub the palms of my hands down my thighs. “Most women I sleep with are such arse kissers, I can hardly stand to be around them for more than five minutes. But you were so interesting and different. You didn’t get starry-eyed when Roan and I came into the boutique for that first fitting. In fact, I was quite certain you hated me from day one, which must make me a masochist because I fancied the shite out of you after that. And I knew then I wanted more than five minutes with you, so I resisted my urges.”
I turn just in time to see Freya lift a shy hand to hide her pleased smile. “That’s actually really sweet, Mac.”
I shrug and look forward, trying to lighten the mood. “Then we started Netflix and chilling, and I realised how bloody refreshing it was to just sit on your damn sofa and watch telly like a normal bloke and not think about football for a single moment in my life. I kind of love the fact that you don’t give a shite about football. Have I ever told you that?”
Freya’s lips curve down with sentiment. “No…but I guess I kind of love the fact that you don’t give a shite about my obsession withHeartland.”
“Fuck, I’m hooked on that daft show,” I reply with a laugh and run my hand through my messy hair. “I think I love those bloody ponies just as much as you now.”
Freya giggles, clearly pleased with herself. “And look at us now. We’ve managed to have sex and stay friends anyway. Well done us.”
