“You got it. But you owe her, Hazel,” Maya replied, pointing at Freya. “Big-time. That guy was a lot.”
Hazel met Freya’s gaze and cringed. “I really am sorry, but I have a good excuse for why I’m late this time. I swear.”
Freya held back an eye roll. Barely. Hazel always had a good excuse. Sighing, she waved her hand in a circular get-on-with-it gesture.
“Do you remember that really hot guy I told you about?” Hazel’s smile was gigantic. “The one I met at the gym a few weeks ago who works for the security company? Sandy-brown hair, tall, ripped, could be a cover model, oozes sex appeal?”
“Please.” Maya scoffed, placing Hazel’s drinks in front of her. “You’ve basically just described every single guy who works out at that gym.”
Freya chuckled. Her friend wasn’t wrong.
The De La Rosa Gym was an elite fight gym located on the northeast corner of Hudson Island, not too far from the resort. Some of the world’s top MMA fighters, boxers, and martial artists trained there.
They were open to public membership, but Freya wasn’t a member. However, since she drove by the gym on her way to and from work, she should probably join one of these days. She’d taken a few of their self-defense classes, and distractinglyhot guys aside, it was a really nice, low-key gym. Get fit had a perennial spot on her running to-do list, but after being on her feet all day, working out at a gym didn’t sound nearly as good as vegging on her couch.
Hazel’s perfectly painted lips pursed. “True. But this guy is likehothot. Frey, remember I told you how I asked him to spot me last week?”
“Oh, holy shit, of course you did,” Maya grumbled, shaking her head as she made her way down the bar to the other guests.
Freya snickered. Hazel’s excuses for being late always involved a hot guy. Her friend attracted the stupidly hot guys of the universe, while she unfortunately tended to attract the Braydens of the world.
Freya knew she was cute. Growing up, she’d been called her mother’s mini. She’d inherited her Filipino mom’s petite frame, tan skin, and long black hair. The only difference between them were Freya’s ice-blue eyes that she and all her brothers had gotten from their Norwegian father. A familiar pang squeezed her heart at the thought of her parents. Shoving the uncomfortable feeling away—this was neither the time nor the place for a pity party—she focused back on her friend.
Hazel was on the opposite end of the spectrum of cute. Simply put, the woman was unfairly stunning. She was a green-eyed, taller version of Margot Robbie.
Yeah. Ridiculous.
Standing at five-two, Freya looked like a child next to her friend’s statuesque five-ten. When she’d first started at Pacific View and met Hazel, she’d been intimidated as hell because of the whole Margot Robbie-doppelganger thing, but after five minutes, she’d realized Hazel was not only fiery and sassy in a way that Freya envied, but she was also really sweet.
“So this hot guy...” Freya prodded before taking the final sip of her lavender lemon drop.
Hazel let out a dreamy sigh. “So after I met with Miriam, I was on my way here and ran into him—Carmichael—in the hallway outside the lounge of all places. What are the odds, right?”
Freya’s eyebrows rose. The guest areas of the resort were just that. Exclusively for guests. It was a rare thing to run into a local who wasn’t an employee. “Yeah, that is a surprise.”
“Right? Anyway, Carmichael and I got to talking, and I lost track of time. I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda sorta invited him to join us. Is that okay?”
Freya couldn’t help but laugh at the hopeful smile on her friend’s face. “That’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”
She could use all the distractions she could get this evening. Besides, the more people she met, the better. Though she’d worked at the resort for a little over a year, she’d only moved to Hudson Island a month ago and was still settling in. Aside from Hazel and Maya, she only knew a handful of other coworkers who lived on the island, so it wouldn’t hurt to meet more people.
Even though her work as a hairstylist had her talking to strangers on a regular basis, she was an introvert. An introvert who did a damn good job pretending to be an extrovert. Truthfully, the only reason she knew Maya was because she’d ridden Hazel’s 1000 percent extroverted coattails. Since Hazel was always running late, she’d gotten to know Maya as she sat at the bar waiting for her friend.
“Oh my God, he’s here,” Hazel whispered, straightening her shoulders and waving.
Freya turned and bit back a laugh. The man making his way toward them—with his focus entirely on her friend—was exactly as Hazel had described.Hothot. Like he’d walked right out of a soap opera. Of course Hazel and this guy had hit it off. The two of them together made Ken and Barbie look pedestrian.
“Ladies,” he said, standing behind their stools.
Hazel beamed at the man. “Carmichael, this is my friend Freya that I was telling you about.”
“Hi,” Freya said, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, shaking her hand. “Do you mind if I join you two for a drink?”
Freya waved at the open seat on the other side of Hazel. “Not at all.”
The moment he sat, Hazel swiveled his way, peppering him with questions. The only pause came when Maya came and took their dinner and drink orders.
