What Goes Around...

Part Ten

Chapter Ten

Coop felt like a caged rat. Normally when he felt like this he'd run, hard. But he knew that wouldn't help. It was her - Freya, all wide eyed and apparently innocent, needing protection. It struck some cord inside him, and he hated it. He still wanted to shake her, make her explain what she had meant the previous night. The thought of her approaching a man for that reason, for no strings sex, well it made him feel sick, but it was more than that, she'd asked him to kiss her...to make love to her...to teach her. Which possibly meant she hadn't done either...though he found the thought of her being an un-kissed virgin unfathomable, but also that she definitely wanted to. She mentioned a "him" there was someone out there that she wanted to use the skills she acquired on. Who? Someone at the hotel?

A voice inside his head offered, what do you care? He ran a hand over his eyes; it was her lack of awareness, the fact that she'd approached him and asked what no woman should ever have to ask - that was the issue. If she met a man who deserved her she wouldn't need acquired skills, they'd learn together. It made the whole request seem sordid and made him wonder what had happened to make her think that she needed advice, tips, teaching.

Food.

He needed a distraction and what better than cooking...then eating. That would help, he was starving and he was an awesome egg scrambler, it was pretty much all he cooked, but he'd always been good at knowing his strengths. Flicking the TV to the sports news channel the sound down, he turned on the radio and was glad to hear some old Muse track blaring out of his state of the art speakers. Popping up the volume he hummed along as he whisked the eggs. The music was loud enough that he could barely hear the knocking; it must have registered in his subconscious though, because he was looking at the door when it was pushed open.

The Freya he knew was back, stood there in her sweats, t-shirt, glasses, hair scraped back into a ponytail, face flushed with embarrassment. This was a safer version, he could deal with her, he could control this.

                "I left my phone here." Her voice almost failed and was little competition for the loud music.

Reaching for the remote control, he turned it down, nodding but not moving from his place in the kitchen, "yep. And your underwear, shoes and what apparently passed for clothing last night. They're in your brother's room."

She gave a curt nod in response, and then disappeared into the bedroom, the perpetual flush of embarrassment travelling with her. And that embarrassment only deepened when she saw the pile of her belongings folded on her brother's bed. He'd cleaned up after her, made the bed then retrieved the clothes she'd left there. She shuddered at the thought of him handling her underwear for a moment. The mortification.

Then she spotted the small bag that she'd used and opened it to find her phone with relief. And on the screen was a message. From Simon.

                "Meet me? I miss you. I really want to see you. No I NEED to see you, I love you. I'll come to wherever you are. Please don't ignore me."

She felt sick, once again. Simon was the first man she'd ever felt more than a passing attraction to, he was the only one who had looked out for her over the years. What had happened between them had been wrong, he was married. And he'd hurt her in so many ways. But the thought of him appearing in front of her now...well he was the only one who knew her properly, knew what they'd been through. It wasn't easy having such a high IQ, to work as they did. You became distant from friends and family, you have little in common with peers, and the work they did...it took over every waking moment. He knew how she was feeling; they always had that between them, that link, that bond.