He smirks. “Thanks. Listen, we’ve got to attend a club opening next week. Would you like to come with me?”
“Oh, um…”
“Don’t feel bad if you want to say no. I get it if you want to stay under the radar.”
Yeah. I do. I really want to remain hidden.
But also…
“Like a date?” I blurt like an idiot.
Of course it’s not a date. It’s a work event.
“Uh…” His hand lifts, his fingers rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, kinda, I guess.”
Oh my god.
“But like I said, you can say no if you don’t want to?—”
“Yes,” I cry, cutting him off.
“Yeah?” he asks, his brows pinching.
He didn’t think I’d agree.
Why?
He’s Cole freaking Hansley. Of course I’d want to go out with him.
“Yeah. It’ll be fun.”
“There will be photographers and?—”
“It’s okay,” I say, sounding much more confident than I feel.
The thought of being photographed at an event sends a shot of fear through me. But knowing that I’ll have Cole standing by my side helps.
So what if my photo ends up on the internet? No one out there cares about me. The paparazzi who follow hockey players around are very different from those in the music industry. There’s a very high chance that no one will even know who I am, let alone connect me to my past.
36
COLE
As predicted, with a packet of treats in her bag, Freya made friends with every single dog we passed. And I didn’t care one bit that our walk kept stopping and starting because the smile on her face every time she saw a pooch was totally worth it.
I knew I’d missed her while I was on the road, but it wasn’t until I was watching her sitting on her haunches, chatting to a King Charles Spaniel called Stan, that it really hit me just how much I’d missed her.
Everything about her is just easy. The way she makes everyone around her feel relaxed. The way she makes them smile just because of who she is. The way she makes me smile without even trying. No one else on the planet can make me do that.
But Freya, she’s…I don’t even know. Special. Really special.
“Really?” She sighs down at her phone as I drive us home.
I’m hot and incredibly sweaty after our walk. My skin is prickling and tight from the sun. I haven’t looked in a mirror, but I’m pretty sure my face is red and glowing.
In contrast, Freya sits in my passenger seat looking like a sun-kissed goddess. You’d never know she’d been walking around in this heat. Her hair is perfect, her cheeks are glowingin the right kind of way, and her skin has a nice, bronzed color to it. She’d already pointed out that she’s wearing sunscreen, while I went out unprotected. I’m going to be paying for it later.
Images of Freya rubbing after sun on my shoulders pop into my head, and I shift in the driver’s seat as the thought hits a little too hard.
