Freya licks her fingers, but sugar still clings to the edges of her lips. “Off my what?”
“It’s something my granddad used to say. It means you’re mad. Cuckoo. Bats in the belfry. Nutty as a fruitcake.”
Freya laughs, her eyes crinkling around the edges. I feel it in the rapid beat of my heart.
Needing to touch her, I reach over and swipe the sugar off her mouth. I bring my thumb to my lips and taste her sweetness.
Freya’s eyes fall to my mouth. Her breath hitches.
I’m tempted to abandon the food and whisk her away to the nearest room with a lockable door, but as much as I want to devour her, I want this too.
I want to talk with her, to play with her, to just simply be in her presence.
Every new thing I discover about her is like finding an easter egg in a video game. A little hidden secret, that only I’ve discovered. The way she took me for my word and picked a dish from every single food stand. Challenge accepted, her grin said. The way her eyes lit up when I used old British phrases. How normally she sits with both feet on the ground, ready to run but when she’s relaxed, like right now, she pulls one leg up onto the chair. I could spend days getting lost in the details that are Freya.
My phone buzzes against the table.
Freya’s foot comes down to the ground.
My life revolves around screens, but I would give my phone up in a second if it meant Freya never again felt like she had to run.
“Is that River?” she asks.
I turn over the phone and look at the latest missed call. “Yeah.”
Freya pushes the dough balls away and wipes her hands on a paper napkin. “We should go back.”
“What did he say to you?” I ask because I’m not taking her back without knowing what she’s dealing with.
Freya goes quiet. Just when I think I’m going to have to coax it out of her she speaks up.
“He asked me if I’d been the one to carve my name into Posy Winters’ chest.”
I turn to stone. Each breath a fight against concrete. “He did what?” I ask, my voice cold.
Freya shrugs. “I have a history, I guess.” She’s trying to play it off, but her lip twitches and she won’t meet my eyes. “If I hadn’t done what I did when I was younger...”
“No. You did what you had to do to survive. Don’t let River, Eli or your own damn brain trick yourself into thinking you had a choice, because you didn’t.”
“Didn’t I?” Freya’s clouded green eyes pierce into me. “I didn’t fight him. I just did what I was told.”
I want to pick her up and hold her but she’s clinging to her chair so tightly, I don’t think softness is going to get through to her right now. Instead, I lean back and cross my arms. “Take off your shirt, look in a mirror and tell me again you didn’t fight him.”
She stares at me, a hundred emotions flitting across her face, but she doesn’t back down.
I snatch up my phone and start typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling Jude exactly what River and Eli did and making it clear I’m on his side if he wants to go a few rounds with them.”
Freya sighs. “Boys have too much testosterone.”
That shocks a laugh out of me. I put my phone down again and run a hand over my mouth. “All right.”
I pick up the plate of hot wings and hold it in front of Freya. “You’re the one who picked Fireball level spice, so you get to go first.”
Freya’s smile finds its way back and my chest loosens.
