Freya opens her mouth but Miles cuts her off with a scoff and a swagger as he steps between us.
"Serves you right, you utte-, " he doesn't finish. Freya's sneaker shoots out and hits his ankle. Miles' yelp is almost comical. My lips twitch into a short smile before it fades entirely.
Freya wraps her hand around my arm and looks up at me with those sweet eyes, her voice always a touch coarse. "You don't really mean that, do you? You loved seeing me first thing when you get home."
I do. My fingers itch to cup those soft cheeks. She looks impossibly small and cute. Granted, she's a lot taller than I remember. I have seen every picture and video of her over the seven years I was away. Despite my control, I couldn't stop myself from using a dummy account to follow her on every social media
