Happy that she agreed to my request about eating with me, I turn back to my breakfast.
I devour it in minutes, and when I look over, Freya’s barely halfway through hers.
It seems I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
“Did I make enough?” she asks. “If you need more, I can?—”’
“It was perfect,” I interrupt. “Thank you.”
A hesitant smile spreads across her lips.
“Stop worrying that everything you do isn’t good enough. I can assure you, it is. And if it ever isn’t, I promise I’ll be up front about it.”
She nods her head, but I don’t think for a second she really hears what I’m saying.
“I’m sorry.”
I raise a brow. “That can stop as well. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m sorry, I—” She cuts herself off with a laugh this time. “I’ll do better.”
“All you need to do is be you.”
The heavy sigh she lets out tells me exactly what she thinks about that comment.
Questions burn through me, but I stuff them down.
I need to get ready for my day.
Slipping from the stool, I take my dirty dishes to the sink before turning back to Freya. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home later so you can be prepared.”
She nods, but before I can escape to my bedroom, her voice stops me. “Do you want my number?”
We’ve only communicated via email thus far. The thought of giving her my number makes my stomach twist. I don’t ever give girls my number. But Freya isn’t just a girl. She’s Freya.
I pull my cell from my pocket and pull up my contact for her. As I pass it over for her to fill in, I can’t help but smirk. “I bet you say that to all the players.”
7
FREYA
Istare at Cole with wide, horrified eyes. My heart thunders against my ribs as regret swirls within me.
“No, I’ve never said that to a player in my life. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever said it to a man. Ever,” I ramble.
“I was teasing, Freya. Something tells me that hockey players aren’t your type.”
I frown. “Why?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You’re too sweet. The guys I play with are assholes.”
“Not all of them,” I argue as if I know them. I may have spent a little bit of time with a handful of them, but we’re far from friends.
“Oh?” he asks.
“Kodie isn’t,” I explain, knowing him through Casey. “And Linc seems okay. And what about your rookie? He’s too cute to be mean.”
“You think Monroe is cute?” Cole balks.
