Page 70 of Seeds of Love


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I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. Tara’s crush on Alfie has been painfully obvious for months. He seems to like her back, but it’s hard to tell with him—the guy’s about as expressive as a brick wall. She won’t make a move, though—somethingabout “sibling code” and that Troy would, in her words, “rip Alfie’s balls out and make him eat them.”Charming.

As I watch Tara and Freddie fall into easy conversation, I’m struck by how natural this feels. It’s like we’re back in time. Before protests and fights and kisses that weren’t just kisses. When everything was simpler. When we were all just friends without the complications of feelings.

“Anyway,” Tara says, her eyes darting between us. “I guess I’ll leave you two to get back to… whatever this is.”

“Studying!” I blurt, sitting up too fast. “We’re studying.”

Freddie gives me a ‘what the hell’ look until I elbow him. Hard.

“Ow—oh! Right. Yeah. Super important… studying stuff.”

“Okaaay,” Tara drawls, a knowing smile on her lips. “Have fun!” She backs out of the room. The door clicks shut, and suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, tooFreddie.

Without Tara as a buffer, the air in the room feels charged, heavy. Something that makes my skin buzz and my thoughts scatter. He runs a hand through his hair—the hair I was just touching,oh god—and my eyes catch on his bicep before I can stop them.

“So,” his voice has gone low, rough. “Studying?”

I grab the nearest textbook like it’s a shield. “Yep. Very important environmental... things.”

He laughs, and it’s unfair how that sound travels straight to my core. “That what you call playing with my hair?”

“I wasn’t—” My voice catches. “That wasn’t...”

“No?” He shifts closer, and suddenly my bed feels like it’s shrinking. “Want me to remind you?”

His hand moves toward my face with deliberate slowness, giving me every chance to pull away. I should. I really should. Instead, I’m frozen, heart hammering against my ribs as his fingers brush my cheek.

“Alex,” he murmurs, andoh, the way he says my name should be illegal.

We’re close enough now that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, count every eyelash. My textbook thumps to the floor, forgotten.

“Freddie,” I breathe, not sure if I’m begging him to stop or keep going.

He leans in, achingly slow, and I can feel his breath on my lips. My eyes flutter shut, every nerve ending alive with anticipation?—

BANG!

We spring apart, breathing heavily, the moment shattered.

“Sorry!” Tara yells through the door. “Dropped my boot!”

Freddie laughs, breaking the tension. “Tara has impeccable timing, remind me to thank her later.”

But then his expression shifts, turns serious. “Alex, about last year… that kiss during the fight. I’m sorry. It was stupid and impulsive and?—”

“Freddie—”

“Let me finish.” His eyes lock with mine. “I’m sorry for how I did it. But I’m not sorry I did it. And honestly? I really want to do it again.”

My mind spins with a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea. He broke my heart once. We’ve only just found our way back to friendship. One wrong move and we could lose it all.

But then Freddie looks at me likethat, and all my carefully constructed reasons crumble. My eyes drop to his lips, remembering the feel of them all over me, the way his body fit against mine. The attraction I’ve been fighting roars to life, drowning out every sensible thought in my head.

“I don’t know what this is,” he says, his voice rough with something that makes my stomach flip. “It’s probably thedumbest thing we could do...” His thumb brushes my cheek. “But god, Alex, I can’t stop wanting to kiss you.”

That’s all it takes. I surge forward, pressing my lips to his. For one heart-stopping moment, he’s completely still. Then his hand slides into my hair, and oh. This isn’t like any of my awkward dates since. This is Freddie kissing me like he’s been starving for it, like he’s trying to tell me something without words.

It’s soft but urgent, tentative but sure. I pour everything into it—all the frustration, the longing, the confusion of the past year. His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel him doing the same.