FREYA
The moment I turned and saw him standing there, my first instinct was to walk past him as if he didn’t exist. I didn’t owe him a greeting, not after everything that had happened, not after the way he’d treated me these past few days. But before I could get more than a few steps, his hand shot out and pulled me back with so much force that I slammed straight into his chest.
For a second, I froze. His chest was firm against mine, his grip tight on my arm. The closeness made my heart stutter in a way I hated, but I quickly pushed against him, shoving at his chest until I had enough space to breathe again. My eyes narrowed, and I forced my tone to stay even.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Why are you standing out here?” he countered instead of answering, his voice low and steady li
