Chapter Eleven
Freya had looked at her sparse wardrobe more than a dozen times, other than the outfit she'd borrowed from Krystal, she had nothing suitable for a date, not that this was a date. Not really. It seemed that Mitchell Cooper was out to teach her a lesson. She had to settle for her black skinny jeans, her best converse and a fairly fitted blue t-shirt with a slogan across the breasts, a science 'in-joke', the words Without Science, life is ... then a portrait of the 'famous' scientist Niels Bohr and an engagement ring. It was a cheesy science gag, "boring", a Christmas gift from a colleague the previous year. It was a bit weird more than funny, but it was clearly the most shapely and probably smartest thing she possessed. She had contact lenses that she hadn't worn other than the previous night. For her trip out with Cooper she wore her glasses, but she did wear her hair down, it was still poker straight from Krystal's session of straightening it the previous day.
It was just after six when she knocked on Cooper's door. He hadn't suggested that he'd pick her up, obviously making sure she was under no illusion that this was a date. That made her want to laugh...if she wasn't so petrified at the thought of what the next few hours would bring.
"So what's the score with old bookworm?"
Coop looked up from his stool at the bar to see Natalie drying glasses across the bar from him. From anyone else he'd have snapped a retaliation, maybe even punched them, but to the barmaid stood across from him, he gave a half smile, "you have NO idea."
Natalie laughed and slid him another bottle of beer, which he took gratefully. They'd been at the bar for half an hour, and the place was quieter than some Sundays. Despite that, he was still determined to show Freya exactly what she was getting herself into. Freya had disappeared to the bathroom, after sipping quietly at her beer. He'd driven to the bar, but planned to leave his SUV there if he had a few drinks. But she was looking a little green around the gills, the after effects of the previous night maybe, so he didn't anticipate them being there that long. Not really.
"You need anything boss?"
He glanced at Natalie again and was tempted to mutter, "divine intervention." But he didn't. Instead he gave her a half smile and returned his eyes to his beer, wondering for the umpteenth time that evening why he was there, and how the hell he could get out of this situation unscathed. At best Freya would hate him, at worst Oscar...and half the world would join in. Groaning he dropped his head and closed his eyes.
"So what's the point of this?"
Coop turned sharply to his right at the sound of her voice to see her sat back on her stool watching him, "being here?" She nodded so he took a deep breath and then added, "well, this place will be busy soon, and I'm about to fill you in on the details of some of the regulars who drink here."
Forty minutes later he'd identified a dozen or more regulars, three were married, though attended the bar most nights to see what they could pick up, one in particular, Martin had three boys...his wife had arrived at the bar on several occasions to drag him home, screaming at whatever woman he was draped over.
"It's the wives fault for putting up with that. I never would!"
He'd laughed, "they have no income, kids, and a man who won't let them do anything on their own. Not everyone is used to being independent; these men know that they win all ways. You want to be another notch on one of their dirty bedpost?"
She'd blushed at that, and so he'd gone on to the drinkers, the gamblers, and those they were suspicious of for so many reasons. For every 'unsuitable' there were a dozen nice guys in the bar, but none of them were suitable for someone like her, someone innocent and so obviously inexperienced. Hell HE wasn't suitable, as he kept trying to remind her. She needed someone who cherished her, loved her, someone who'd help her find the right way, give her the mutual experience she so desperately wanted.
Her eyes were sharp as he glanced at her, watching the room intently. She was enjoying this, he could tell, and who was he to let her down. So he carried on.
"We've had a run of suspected date rapes earlier in the year. We cooperate with the police on every turn, but look around the room, can you pick out the man who does that? Drugs women and does god only knows what?"
She shuddered, he could feel that against his arm, "I'm not trying to be awkward, and I'm not trying to scare you unduly. A woman isn't at risk here, not just by being here, but in skimpy clothes, wasted, barely able to walk, that's a different matter. Look, you of all people aren't used to this environment. You walked in here last night and wanted to go home...or somewhere with one of these men." He leaned close and hissed, "look around. I saved you, whether you like it or not."
Freya tired to hide her reaction that surged through her as she took in the various men in the bar, not one of them appealed to the sober her without the catalogue of back stories that he'd provided her with. Had she stayed in the bar the previous night who knew what would have happened, but she knew she'd have HATED herself today, and maybe forever.
He was right, as much as she hated to admit it, this wasn't for her, this wasn't the life she was either used to, or wanted. Taking a sigh she looked up at him.
"Don't gloat."
That made him laugh, loudly, the barmaid looked up with a puzzled expression, and that made him laugh even more. Throwing some notes down onto the bar to cover their drinks, he grabbed her hand then led her out of the bar into the now dark street.
"Where are we going?"
She waited until they were a few hundred yards away to ask him as knew he was showing no sign of slowing his pace or letting her know what was going on. Looking down at her, all wide eyed and innocent he felt that familiar bubbling anger at her behaviour still under the surface. She was such a bloody fool.
"Somewhere a bit quieter, for food, we can't talk in there, I'm starving and hate lecturing on an empty stomach." Her hand pulled almost from his, and he had to turn to see that she'd stopped dead in her tracks. "What now?"
She shook her head her eyes glittering furiously, "I am not fifteen, and you are NOT my brother. So quit with all that shit now."
He dropped her hand, standing in front of her his arms folded, "you reckon? Cos where I'm standing you are acting EXACTLY like a teenager, and in the absence of your brother, I am exactly that! The person left in charge of YOU, for someone with an IQ bigger than a whole High School class, you are so dumb! The average teenager has more common sense than you. You NEED me. So get over it.'"
With that he turned in the direction of the bar he intended to visit and dragged her along with him, ignoring her protests.
At some point Freya stopped fighting the man leading her forcibly across town. She wanted to punch him, lash out, a ridiculous response for someone as placid as herself. Instead she gave in to it and let him direct her to a sports bar across the river nearer his home. It was dark inside, a dozen TV screens showing a variety of sporting events, boxing gloves, football shirts and lacrosse sticks adorned the walls, and writing staff in baseball shirts whizzed around carrying trays of beer and mainly chicken wings. It was busy near the bar, most of the tables seemed to be occupied, but there were empty booths at the back, and he led her a little more calmly across the room than he had down the street, then pushed her towards the bench opposite the one he lowered himself onto.
"So is this how you woo the string of women who frequent your bed? Because I have to say I'm amazed you have so much success."
She let the insult hang there, and despite her scowl his lips curled into a smile as he replied, "au contraire, it's quite the opposite. They beg to be in my bed, but then you know all about that, don't you?"
It was enough to silence her for a moment, snatching at the menu she used it to hide her flushed cheeks from him as she silently fumed. She had asked him to take her to bed, but she hadn't begged. No way.
"Are you going to ignore me for the rest of the night?" The silence between them was prolonged and starting to become a little awkward - well deserved in her eyes. But his response was trivialising things.
She shrugged, refusing to lift her eyes, "I'm not that childish."
It was greeted with a guffaw laced with sarcasm, but a waitress arriving broke the tension. Freya pasted on a smile, "I'll take the ribeye with fries and coleslaw."
The young blonde nodded and scribbled on her pad, but her eyes were fixed on Coop. Freya didn't note what he ordered; instead she studied him as he flirted with the young waitress. He didn't know he was doing it; it came so naturally to him, charm, flattery. He was her polar opposite when it came to social charms. The woman or rather the girl was fluttering her eyelashes, he was leaning back on the seat, arm stretched out across the back of it, a ready smile on his lips, his eyes twinkling. Oh yes, the man had charisma by the bucket load.
"Freya...Freya?"
She jumped as his voice penetrated her daydream, "what?"
"I asked if you wanted beer."
She nodded, "a light please."
The waitress scurried off, and left that same awkward silence that seemed to overpower the easy rock ballads crooning at full blast from the speakers around the room.
"You're quite cute when you scowl."
Her head flipped up at that comment and she met those sparkling eyes head on. "What? You're trying to use your 'come to bed' lines on me?"
He laughed, "calm down. Let me remind you that YOU asked me to screw you, so if anyone's familiar with come to bed lines it's you."
She flinched at the vulgarity of his suggestion, "I didn't ask you to...screw me." She stumbled over the word. It only made him laugh harder.
"No, you asked me to make love to you, but sweetheart, I don't do that. I screw and I fuck. Which is why it'll never happen. Ok?"
Coop watched her pink cheeks turn cerise as she took in all that he said. She started to move, as though she was going to leave, so he reached out and gripped a hold of her wrist.
"Sorry."
That made her finally look up at him, and he could see the threat of tears glistening there, and once again he hated himself, what was it with this woman and him acting like a class A prick? "Do you have to make me sound so cheap?"
He shook his head reaching for her other hand, "like I say, I am really sorry. I shouldn't have been so blunt. You are anything BUT cheap. If you were even the slightest bit cheap, I'd have already given you the benefit of my experience." It was a cocky comment and finally made her break into an indignant smile. "You bring out the worst in me Freya Wicker, I don't know why, but you do."
"You do to me too."
"You mean you're not always this angry and sassy?"
That made her laugh out loud, "I am neither of the above, ever."
It was that hint of self deprecation that got to him. There was always the weak undercurrent to any strength that she had that tugged at his heart strings. Something or someone had knocked her confidence and left her with a terrified side, a part of her that was scared of everything. And he hated that.