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“How old were you?”
“Eight. Eight and a half, I think.”
Holy shit.
“Where was Tommy? Your dad, I mean.”
“Working. In Afghanistan, I think. He’d been gone for months before it happened. Mom always got super sucked into that stuff when he was away for a while.”
“I’m sorry, kid,” I told her, which made her bristle.
“I’m not a kid, you know that, don’t you, Ashton?”
Oh, I fucking knew it. I remembered the feel of her very grown-up breasts pressing against my chest while I was having a full on mental breakdown in the employee bathroom at work.
She’d never brought it up though. After Tommy had led me away, Freya never mentioned the incident again. Maybe she just wanted to forget the traumatizing moment, and I could respect that. I’d taken full advantage of her sympathetic and loving heart, and I knew it.
But I digress.
I didn't remember things being so bad. Tommy had mentioned that he’d needed to leave the Marines to be with his wife and daughter, but he’d never mentioned how bad it had evidently gotten. Had Freya been dealing with being the grown-up in the house ever since she was a kid? Maybe our pasts were more similar than I ever realized.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Freya said as she dipped to look into the fridge for something.
Damn, that ass…
“I’m afraid that maybe your head will explode or something,” she mused.
I barked a rusty laugh, just as she stood and graced me with a grin over her shoulder.
“You’re insane,” was the only comeback I had, because maybe she was right.
I was thinking way too hard about her and that peachy ass when I should’ve been focused on other things. “Is Tommy still at the dealership?”
She nodded, then slid over a beer to me.
“You know him. Workaholic.”
Yes, I did, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. He had such an amazing life to come home to, why would he choose work over this?
I grunted instead of answering, but took the beer happily.
“So?” she asked after a minute. “You took the day to go to the base. How’d it go?”
I didn’t fucking answer. I didn’t want to.
Funny though, as it turned out, I didn’t need to.
“Oh…Ash…” she moaned, sadness and sympathy coloring her cheeks.
“Guess my nickname really matches now,” I grunted out, thinking it would be funny, but my voice cracked like a prepubescent boy, showing my emotions.
Freya came right around the counter and took me into her arms, beer and all where she squeezed me harder than anybody had ever hugged me before.
“You’ll be ok,” she muffled a whisper with her face in the crook of my neck and shoulder. “You’ve got us, and we’ll be your team.”
An unwelcome tear started slipping out of my eye, and I quickly tried sucking it back up before she could notice. But funny that, tears don’t suck back up like snot.
When she let me go, Freya looked into my face and lifted her hand, sweeping the trail of that singular tear away.
