His hand covers my mouth, warm and calloused, and my brain short-circuits. The gesture is so unexpected, so intimate, that I freeze. My heart pounds against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. When he pulls back, it’s slow, careful.
“You weren’t listening to me,” he explains, voice low. “You were being stubborn and righteous and so fucking passionate about everything, and I couldn’t think straight. The kiss was stupid, but I thought... maybe it would make you stop long enough to hear me.”
“So you kissed me to shut me up?” I try to sound angry, but it comes out breathless.
“Uh, yeah.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His laugh breaks through my defenses like always – deep and genuine and infectious. I feel my own lips betraying me with a smile.
“I know, that’s what I’m saying. Itwasstupid,” he says, eyes crinkling. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help, in my own fucked-up way. When I made that proposal, I thought I was finding middle ground. I had no idea they were going to shut it down completely. I was trying to help you make a difference, it just... didn’t go to plan.”
My anger deflates, leaving something warm and terrifying in its wake. Oh, god.
The memories hit differently now: Freddie trying to explain about sustainable development, about working within the system, about finding compromise. I’d been so sure he was simply helping the other side. But he’d been trying to find a middle ground, just in a way my stubborn brain couldn’t understand.
Had I been so wrapped up in being right that I’d completely misread everything?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and mean it.
“You’re what?” Freddie’s eyes go comically wide.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, fighting a smile. “Don’t push it, Donovan.”
He stands up from the bed, cupping his hands around his mouth like a makeshift megaphone. “Attention, UMS! Breaking news! Alexandria Ford has just admitted she was wrong! Mark the date!”
I throw a cushion at him. “Shut up! You’ll wake Tara!” But I’m laughing, really laughing, for what feels like the first time in months.
He flops back down, his head landing near my legs. Without thinking – because thinking around Freddie is clearly not my strong suit – I reach out to touch his hair. It’s softer than I expected, and something in my chest tightens when he makes this contented little sound.
“Mmm, don’t stop,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.Oh, that does things to my insides.
I continue raking my fingers through his hair, amazed at how such a simple act can feel so intimate. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm.
Suddenly, the door flies open. Tara bursts in, wielding... a banana?
“What the hell is going on in here?” she shouts, then freezes. “Oh.” The banana drops to the floor with a soft thud.
Freddie sits up so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t hurt himself. We spring apart like guilty teenagers, even though we weren’t... I mean, we were just...
“Hey, Freddie,” Tara’s voice drips with suggestion. “Wasn’t expecting you here.”
“What the hell did you expect?” I ask, my cheeks burning. “And what was the banana going to do?”
Tara looks down at her fallen weapon sheepishly. “I expected... I don’t know. I guess I thought you were having an argument with some strange man and I came to help.”
I throw another pillow at her, leaving my bed sadly bereft of projectiles. “You’re insane!”
“Solid plan,” Freddie comments, looking genuinely impressed.
I shoot him a betrayed look and fall back onto the bed, groaning. “I’m surrounded by lunatics.”
Tara cackles—there’s really no other word for it. “Yep! Happy to be one.”
“Nice to see you, Tara,” Freddie offers, ever the charmer.
“You too, Freds!” She grins that too-bright grin. “How’re the guys?” A pause that isn’t subtle at all. “And... Alfie?”
