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Freddy links his fingers through mine and guides me towards the door. “What holiday?” I ask.
“I’m taking a holiday.” He grins at me.
My heart sinks to my stomach. This must be what his time off is for. “Oh.”
“Hope you are free for a few days, Amber French?”
“What?” My feet stop.
“I’ve taken the school break off to spend it with you. Assuming that’s okay?”
Okay? He hopes that’s okay?
I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. I had some pretty important plans.”
“So you don’t want to come away with me?”
My mouth falls open and stays open. “When?”
“After your birthday?” He raises an eyebrow.
There’s no chance my parents will let me, but then I understand what Freddy is saying. After my birthday I will be eighteen, and there is nothing they can do about it. Nothing at all. Cue evil laugh. Mwahahahahahaha.
“You’re right, you are a truly terrible boyfriend.”
I giggle my way out of the old building, giving a wave to his dad and his dickwad brother who is looking at us in part amusement, part annoyance.
We are outside and getting in the car when I blurt out my burning question. “So can I call you Fred?”
He roars with laughter, making the car boom with the sound. “Is that all you have to say right now?”
I think, drumming my fingers on my knees. “Yep, pretty much.”
Freddy laughs again and hits the ignition button. “Amber French, you’re going to be the end of me.”
That’s a shame, because I was kind of hoping this was just the beginning.
“Actually, I do have something else to say. Two words. Racing? Why? It sounds downright dangerous if you ask me.”
Grinning, he sweeps in for a kiss. “I told you. I’m a man of many talents.”
There are talents and then there’s racing at high speeds in cars made of tin cans. I’m not sure that’s a talent I’m comfortable with.
“It’ll be okay. I race all the time,” he assures me.
“Yeah, but you never had me as a distraction before.”
“I’ll be at yours by late afternoon tomorrow and you will never know the difference.”
“You were going to tell me. Weren’t you, Freddy?”
He clutches me by the elbows, pulling me in closer. “Yes. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“Well now I’m worrying. The only reason someone says they don’t want a person to worry is if there’s a need to worr—”
He smiles against my mouth, planting a kiss and cutting off my ramble. “No need. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon and then our holiday can start in earnest.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
