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I nod furiously, not bothering to hide my eagerness. I’ve never been someone who pretends not to be interested when I am. Playing games about your feelings is a waste of time.
“Yes, I’m free between visits to the hospital. I’ll just check with my mother. Can I let you know later?”
“Aye, right.”
“I guess I’ve already got your number. You know, from before. So I’ll go now. See you tomorrow sometime.”
I’m not sure if I should hug him, kiss him, or just go like I said. After faltering in place for a moment, I turn to flee.
“Freya?”
I spin back to him, smiling, and stretch up on my toes to hug him, happy he didn’t want me to leave without a proper goodbye. His arms wrap around my waist. It’s a brief embrace but long enough for me to enjoy the feel of his strong shoulders beneath his sweater. I knew it. Under his clothes is a smoking hot body. I let go, and his arms drop to his sides.
“Ah, you forgot your bag.” He grins wide as his gaze drops to my bag exactly where I left it beside the table.
My hands dart to my beet-red face, and I actually groan. That’s embarrassing.
He chuckles while he peels my hands back. “I’m glad you forgot your bag this time.” He drops a kiss on my cheek, and butterflies play a game of tag in my stomach. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Freya.”
I nod, and this time when I turn to go, I drag my bag behind me. And yes, I did double-check to make sure it was mine.
***
“Those drugs must be really strong,” I joke when my aunt and I walk into my mother’s room. Her smile is still defying the fact that she had a difficult operation only this morning.
“Your father just called,” she says with the excitement of a small child promised a special treat. “He’s coming tomorrow.”
It’s perfect timing because one of his visits is guaranteed to make her forget that she’ll be stuck in this hospital bed for at least a couple of days.
“A happy accident between friends” is how my mother refers to my birth. My father was and still is her best friend. They were just out of high school, and he was on the brink of hitting fame and fortune with his band when they found out she was pregnant. Who my father was became our family secret and in time people stopped wondering. Even now, only those closest to us know and that’s the way we are all determined to keep it.
“Do you think he’ll have time for lunch with me?” I ask. Just like Mum, news of a visit from Pabbi has me grinning like a clown.
“You know your father would never miss that.”
“We’ve already got your special table reserved at the bar for midday tomorrow,” Embla adds.
Being home has just become even better, and I settle into the visitor’s chair closest to my mother.
Mum and Embla share a look that has me thinking they’re up to something.
“I hear your bag man was handsome,” my mother pronounces with all the subtlety of a bull in a chinaware shop. Of course she’s encouraged by Embla and another of those looks passes between the two women.
I huff out the breath in my lungs. “Mum, don’t go getting any ideas. We just met to swap the bags.”
“Changing bags takes probably ten minutes, so what did you talk about for the rest of the time?” Her eyebrow arches with hope. Since I hit my twenties, she’s taken more interest than she should in my dating life.
My head spins in the direction of my aunt. “Embla, what stories have you been telling my mother.”
Her shoulders lift in a cute shrug as a guilty smile tips the corners of her lips. I can’t be angry or surprised. My mother and aunt are each other’s eyes and ears. They tell each other everything.
In protest, I roll my eyes, but I know that it will do nothing to deter their probing questions “Fine. He’s totally hot,” I admit, before giving them a brief bland summary of my meeting with Rory.
It turns out picking up the wrong bag wasn’t so bad after all, especially when the wrong bag belongs to the right guy.
Chapter five
Rory
