Page 72 of Blindsided
“What’s your problem?” Freya asks, grabbing my arm and stepping closer to me.
I exhale heavily and feel an intense pressure building in my chest. “I just thought that maybe you and I could talk finally,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “But you seem to be more interested in talking to Jerry—”
“Stop it,” she hisses and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you want to talk, then take me somewhere we can talk. Don’t pick a fight with me for no bleddy reason.”
“Not here with everybody fucking watching,” I growl, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her through the crowd.
I glance around in search of a quiet place and see a gazebo across the street with lights hanging from it. A wee bit flowery for my taste, but it’s away from all these damn people that have been getting in my way all day. We make our way over and find a bench to sit on.
“What is your problem?” she asks, turning on the bench to face me. “Do you honestly think I’d rather spend time with Jerry instead of you? Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I growl, facing forward and propping my elbows on my knees. I run an agitated hand through my hair. “I’m not exactly a rational man these days when it comes to you, Cookie.”
She’s quiet for a moment and then asks, “Why is that exactly?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I bark out, turning to face her, mirroring her position on the bench.
She has a soft, tender look on her face as she croaks, “Not to me.”
I huff out a laugh as my eyes scan her face. “I fancy the shite out of you, Freya, and it’s twisting my guts inside of me.”
Her face wars between a smile and a frown, and I hate it. I hate that I can say something like that, and she doesn’t know how to respond. I’m crap at this.
“So what does that mean, exactly?” she asks softly.
“I don’t know.” I stretch my arm out on the bench behind her and lean closer. “I didn’t expect for things to feel like this between us.”
“Neither did I,” she agrees and pulls her lower lip into her mouth to chew on nervously. “So what are we then?”
I shrug and swallow the uncomfortable knot in my throat. “Labels aren’t really a thing I’m used to.” She looks hurt by that response, so I lean in and cup her freckled cheek in my hand. “I’m not opposed to being together, but I need some time to wrap my head around it before we dive into whatever this is.”
She nods and looks down at her hands, clutched tightly together on her lap. “Time.”
“Aye, time.”
She looks up at me. “And until you’re ready…what? We don’t see each other?”
“I didn’t say anything like that,” I snap, a sharp flash of desperation coursing through me at the thought of her even suggesting that. “Can’t we just keep things how they are for now, and we’ll figure it out as we go?”
She stares at me solemnly for a moment before turning to face forward. I can feel her disappointment and it eats away at a part of my soul. I hate doing this to her, making her feel insecure in what we are. She’s my best mate, and I’m not the one who should be sending her mixed signals. But I’m not ready to dive in head first with her either. I need to take this slowly so I don’t make any mistakes. She’s too important to me to rush into a decision.
“Freya, are you okay with that?” I ask when she still hasn’t replied.
She exhales heavily and plasters a smile on her face. “Sure. I’m okay with that.”
Relief washes over me as I reach out to turn her to face me. “Good,” I state, gliding my thumb along her jaw. “That’s good.”
I lean in and press my lips to hers. She feels tense at first but then softens, allowing me to tilt her head and kiss her properly.
We’ll figure this out together. We have to.
The next morning, the sun has barely begun to rise when I squat down to kiss Freya’s bare shoulder peeking out from the blankets.
She moans her discontent. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to town to see my grandad for a bit.”
“It’s so early,” she moans and snuggles under the covers.
