Into Your Arms by Chelsea M. Cameron
“You have anywhere to be, or do you want to just sit here for a minute?” he asks.
I want to lie and tell him I have class soon, but my mouth doesn’t cooperate. Again.
“No, I’ve got some time.”
“Good,” he says, winking. “That means we can talk now that you’ve eaten.” I give him a withering look.
“What? I get cranky when I haven’t eaten. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I want to throw something at him.
“Why are you here with me when you could be somewhere else with someone who’s less annoyed with you?” I say.
He chuckles, and I cringe at my body’s response to that sound. I need to make a note to try and make him laugh as little as possible. I can’t handle the sound.
“But teasing you is fun. And you’re not terrible to look at.” This time I do grab a napkin, ball it up, and chuck it at him. I thought about tossing a plate, but I don’t want to get arrested for assault at this stupid diner.
Of course he catches it and laughs again, and I hate myself a little.
“Violent when complimented, noted,” he says.
“No, I’m just violent when stupid boys are annoying.” I wish I could sound more mature, but I’m too irritated to be articulate.
“Aw, you like me. I can tell you like me. If you didn’t, you probably would have no problems with telling me to go fuck myself and go away.” Ugh, I hate that he’s right. I have no problems speaking my mind. Under normal circumstances. But he’s different, and it keeps getting worse. I need to not spend any time with this guy. Or as little as possible. For the most part, I only see him in practice and for workouts, so I can definitely limit my contact. Thank God we’re not in the same stunt group or else I would never hear the end of it.
Rhett
Driving her up a wall is some of the most fun I’ve had in a while. She’s cute as hell when she’s irritated. And I’m a little relieved that even though she keeps telling me to go away, she voluntarily got in my truck. I’m going to tell myself she came with me for more than hunger. I don’t know what it is about her, but I just really like being around her.
I’ve watched her at practice, and that has only made me more attracted to her. She works her ass off and is always the person to give a stunt one more try when it isn’t working. She doesn’t stop until she has it perfect. When the rest of the squad is hot and tired and discouraged, she’s the first one to tell us to suck it up and do it right or don’t do it at all. She’s also funny and sweet and smart. All the qualities that I want in a girl. The fact that she’s constantly annoyed by me doesn’t bother me much. In fact, I actually prefer it. Makes life more interesting. What’s life without a little challenge? I like a little blond bombshell challenge.
I reach for the bill before she can, and I get it since my arms are longer.
“You gonna pay for me?” she asks.
“You want me to?” I counter.
She shrugs one shoulder.
“Doesn’t bother me either way. But I don’t want you to think that you paying or not paying is symbolic of anything.” I know exactly what she means, because I’ve also been thinking about it. I’m not dense enough to think that this is any kind of date, but the thought that she’s been grappling with that is fun anyway.
“I don’t think anything is symbolic of anything,” I say, reaching into my wallet and pulling out some bills. I leave a tip along with the rest of the bill and stand up.
“You ready to go? I have class in less than an hour and I want to shower.” She narrows her gorgeous eyes at me but gets up, crossing her arms as we head back out to my truck. Freya’s all grumpy and cute, and I wish I could just spend the day with her. Outside of cheer, outside of running. Just the two of us hanging out and watching a movie or taking a walk. But I know she’s definitely not up for that, so I’m going to take her back to her apartment and call it good.
“You can just drop me back at the field house,” she says.
“No, I’ll take you home. Save you some time. Or do you not want me to know where you live?” I ask and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine, whatever.” She directs me to a small complex just off campus. The units don’t look like anything special, and I’m a little surprised. I would have thought she would live in one of the newer buildings that has a pool and so forth.
“So, thanks,” she says, with her hand on the door. Her eyes are telling me she wants to bolt, so I tell her goodbye and watch as she dives out of the truck, practically running to her front door. I honk, but she doesn’t turn around.
* * *
I realize, as I drive back to my place, that I honestly don’t know much about Freya. Sure, I know that she’s an incredible dancer and her legs bend just a tiny bit on her second back handspring in a row, but I know little about her day-to-day life. What songs she listens to and how her apartment is decorated and which side of the bed she sleeps on. I mean, I’d like to know these things, but she’s definitely not up for that.
Yet.
We’ll see.
* * *
That night Jem calls and asks if he can come over for a drink, and I agree, even though I have a mountain of homework. He seemed like he needed to talk.
“I brought supplies,” he says, holding up a paper bag. I have a feeling it’s going to contain several bottles of beer from his new favorite local brewery. We head into my living room, and it turns out I’m right.
“It’s a school night, you know,” I say as he hands me one and then pops the top with his keychain opener. “I don’t know if I should.” Jem just gives me a look and pops the top of his, the cap going flying.
“Shut up,” Jem says, tapping his bottle with mine and then taking a big swig. Shit. Something is up with him.
“So, to what do I owe this honor?” I ask, taking a smaller sip. The beer is crisp and fresh, with a hint of blueberry. Nice.
“What, I can’t just come over to your house and bring some beer and hang out?” His eyes are darting all over the place, and his face is a little flushed. Something is definitely up, but he’s being typical Jem and pretending that it’s not.
“Sure you can, but I’d like to know if there’s a reason behind it other than just hanging out.” He shrugs and takes a huge swig. Another gulp and his bottle will be empty. I’m going a bit slower.
“Nope. Just needed to get out of my house for a while.” He finishes the bottle and goes to crack open another one. I want to snatch his keys, but that might earn me a punch in the face. Jem’s a responsible guy, so it looks like he’s going to be hanging out for a while.
“So, anything new with you and the blonde?” he asks. I guess if I can get him talking about me, he might open up. Jem loves talking about anything that’s not his personal life.
“Not a whole lot. I took her out for French toast this morning after our workout, but she definitely still isn’t a huge fan of mine.” Jem snorts.
“What are you waiting for? I really don’t get it. Is she worth all the effort and frustration?” I know the answer to that question, but I don’t tell Jem. Yes. Freya is worth it, but I can’t explain why. There is no tangible reason that I can’t seem to handle not being around her. Whenever my brain has free space, it always seems to drift to Freya. And not just her amazing body. Her voice, her laugh, the way she doesn’t seem to have a filter. It’s a whole lot of little things that put together make one hell of a girl.
“You there?” Jem says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“Yup,” I say, blinking. I’ve gone off thinking about Freya again. I can’t seem to help it. She’s all twisted up in my thoughts, and I don’t have the desire to untangle her from my brain.
“You seem pretty fucking whipped,” Jem says, and it’s not a compliment. “I don’t know how you can be, seeing as how you haven’t even fucked her.” I narrow my eyes at him. Freya isn’t a girl I want to fuck. Well, I do, but I don’t want just that from her. I want a whole lot more than fucking.
??
“So, are you gonna tell me what crawled up your ass now, or are you going to pretend things are totally fine?” Jem pops the top of his second beer and nearly swallows the whole bottle in one gulp.
“And you might wanna slow down there, cowboy,” I say. That earns me a middle finger.
“Fine, be that way. I don’t care.” I finish my first beer and get up. If he’s gonna hang out for a while, we’re going to need food. Jem follows me into the kitchen after a few minutes where I’m covering a tray with tortilla chips and cheese.
“You want guac?” I ask as he leans his forearms on the counter and shakes his hair out of his eyes.
“Yeah,” he says.
I nod and shove the tray of chips and cheese in the oven before turning back to Jem.
“Things are just real fucked up sometimes,” he says in a low voice. Jem always seems like he’s on the verge of telling a joke, or just told one, but right now he’s serious. I’ve seen him like this more than a few times, and it makes me wonder what else he’s hiding. I don’t ask. That’s one of the reasons we work as friends. We don’t ask about the hard stuff.
“Yeah, they are. Wanna talk about it?” I ask. He slowly shakes his head.
“Nope.”
“Fair enough, just thought I would offer.” Jem nods, and I can tell he really wants to, but either doesn’t know how, or doesn’t know if he can. After a few moments of silence he shuffles back to the living room and turns on the TV. I join him a few minutes later with the nachos, and we spend the rest of the night drinking, eating and talking about useless shit. Eventually we get back around to him asking about cheer.
“So you seriously like it?”
“Yeah, I do. I know it sounds corny, but I do. It’s just performing, really.” Our first home game is coming up the following weekend, and I’m nervous as hell. I just don’t want to drop any of my stunts or look like a total asshole.
“So you’re gonna wear a little uniform and everything?” I roll my eyes.
“It’s not little. It’s a shirt and pants, dude.” Just to shut him up, I get my uniform out to show him. I expect him to continue mocking it, but he doesn’t.
“I guess that’s not bad. Still. It is a little weird.” I don’t really give a fuck. I change the subject so I won’t get mad at him. Jem is one of the only friends I have here, and I’d hate to ruin it over something stupid.
He doesn’t leave until much later, and I almost offer to let him crash on my couch, but he tosses the empty beer bottles in the recycling and gives me a wave before heading out. I tell him to text me when he gets home safe, and he just rolls his eyes before shutting the door.
Weird.
6
Freya
“Are you okay?” Tobi asks me the next day at practice. We’re warming up together, and I can feel Rhett staring at my back. I thought he would take our little breakfast non-date as an invitation to bother me more, but he’s sort of been keeping his distance. Good. Saves me from having to do it.
“Yeah, why?” I ask, taking her hands and pulling her forward so she’s completely stretched out in a straddle. We hold it for a few seconds, and then she pulls me so I’m stretched out instead.
“I don’t know. You just seem off. Are you sleeping okay? Eating normally?” Tobi’s going to be a nurse, so taking care of people is pretty much her thing. She does it without even realizing. It’s one of the things I like most about her.
“Yeah, Tobi, I’m fine,” I say as she gets up and then helps me to my feet.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, thanks,” I say and Coach calls us to order. This practice is all about getting ready for the game next Saturday. We’re still sloppy with our halftime routine, and our partner stunts could definitely use some work. Nine times out of ten they come down early and not in unison. It’s driving me nuts. I’m trying not to be a bitch about it, but I spend a lot of practice time grumbling to myself. To be honest, the guys need to hit the gym more. Except for Rhett. Apparently he’s one of those “all-in” types, and I’ve seen him working on conditioning outside of practice multiple times. I’ve never seen someone who was so new to cheer pick up so many skills that quickly. He’s like a mutant.
A hot, annoying mutant.
My stunt partner is Gavin and he’s . . . fine. We don’t talk a whole lot. He’s pretty quiet, actually. But whenever I need him to do something, he takes direction. We work well together. There’s been some drama lately, and Coach has been playing musical stunt partners to find the right combination of base and flyer.
Right now Rhett’s working with Willow, and they spend more time laughing than any other pair. Even though Rhett’s still a little rough around the edges and not as polished, he’s strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could get her in a cupie in no time, with her standing with both feet on his fully extended hand. Gavin definitely isn’t close to being able to do that with me yet, and I have to spend most of my time trying to keep my balance as his arms shake when he’s holding me. I would be jealous, but then that would mean I’d have to work with Rhett and NO WAY. I’d rather not cheer than have to deal with him being my stunt partner.
“Okay, I think we need to change things up again,” Coach yells halfway through practice. Uh-oh. That’s never a good thing. I share a glance with Tobi, and I hope this isn’t like the time she decided to scramble all our stunt groups and two people ended up with injuries.
“Let’s change up stunt partners.” I look at Gavin, and he shrugs. I’m not too fond of this. He and I have been working fine for a while, and I’m not keen on breaking in a new partner. Coach looks down at her clipboard and starts reading off the pairs. Some of them are excited. Some are less so. And then she gets to my name.
“Freya and Rhett.”
Fuck motherfucking fuck.
Everyone stares at me. Oops. I totally said that out loud.
“I don’t think that language is necessary, Freya,” Coach says with an icy look. I’m usually one of her favorites because of my skills, but she doesn’t like anyone going against her authority.
I clamp my jaw shut and slowly shuffle over to where Rhett is standing. I can’t even look at him. Now would be a great time for a sinkhole to open up under the gym floor and suck me in. This day was going so well, and now it’s gone to shit. I got an A on an exam I thought I was going to bomb and accidentally got ahead on some of my reading. And then this happens because the universe hates me.
“Hey,” I hear a deep voice say as Coach assigns the rest of the pairs. Gavin ends up with Gwen, and Tobi gets paired with Clint. The two of them get along well, so they should be fine.
And then there’s me.
Slowly, I turn to face Rhett. He has the biggest grin on his stupid-handsome face. I’d want to punch him if I wasn’t worried about hurting my hand. His skull is probably hard as a rock.
“You ready to do this?” he asks, holding his hand out as if I’m supposed to shake it.
“No,” I say, crossing my arms. I want to throw a hissy fit and stomp my feet like a toddler and ask for a new partner, but that’s not going to happen. Not after my little outburst. I’m going to have to do this until Coach decides that she wants to change things up.
Rhett Miller is going to get to touch my ass, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Okay, let’s try some toss hands just to get you warmed up,” Coach yells because everyone is too busy chatting. Tobi rushes over to help spot, along with Clint.
She has a smirky smirk on her face, and I give her a withering look as I get into position. Rhett puts his hands on my waist, and I place my hands on top of his. I try to ignore the tingles that chase their way up my arms and zing right into my brain. My body is NOT reacting to Rhett Miller. I won’t let it.
“You want to count?” he says in my ear, and I also ignore the shiver that goes down my spine. I want to pretend it’s a bad shive
“Toss on two?” I say, wishing my voice was stronger.
“Yup,” he says again, and I tell my body to get its shit together. I don’t have time for this.
“One, two . . .” I say and then I’m in the air, landing on Rhett’s hands as he holds my feet at shoulder height. Solid. Barely a wobble. My knees are locked, but I’ve never been so stable in the air. Ever. I put my arms up in a high V.
“Extend?” Rhett says under me, not sounding strained at all.
“On two,” I say and count again as he extends his arms fully, and I’m all the way up. The little thrill goes through me from flying that I get each and every time. It never gets old.
“Down on two,” he says and brings me down to shoulder height again and then drops me to the floor where I rebound and pretend that my legs aren’t all wobbly. Seriously, Freya. Get your shit together. He’s just a stupid boy with a stupid beard and a stupid face and stupid arms and . . .
“Wow,” Tobi says, clapping. “That was great. Someone’s been hitting the gym.” She gives me a smirk, and I want to strangle her. This whole Rhett thing is just too amusing for her. Yeah, well, it’s not fun for me.
“What do you think?” Rhett says, looking at me with concern on his face.
“Good,” I say. I can’t lie and say that he sucked as a base because he didn’t. He’s the most solid person I’ve ever had under me. I cringe inwardly at the thought. And pretend the idea of Rhett under me doesn’t do things to me in certain places. My hormones are just out of control.