Page 9 of More Than I Can Bear

“The one who wrangled Felicia and Tarquin?” she asked.

“Yeah, him. That’s Kaine. He’s the one in charge.”

“And you’re… close?”

“Been friends since we were in school,” I replied. “We share a house with his brother.”

“So are they really bad cooks or you just needed a chicken parmi tonight?” she asked.

I smiled much more easily then.

“The banana bread was amazing so…” I shrugged. “Had to see what else was good on the menu. And, yeah, the guys can’t cook for shit. Kaine is damn good at ordering takeaway and…”

I stopped myself, because I was just about to talk about Adam’s toastie making skills, but we weren’t doing that. Kaine was on the warpath. Adam had overstepped grossly and was now in damage control mode. We had to try to get to know our mate, try to persuade her that we weren’t dickheads, and then she’d… I sighed.

“And?” Freya prompted.

“My other flatmate has made making a toastie into an art form,” I replied finally. “Chicken, cheese, and pineapple. Ham, cheese, and onion. Semi dried tomato, salami, and cream cheese.”

“Chicken, cheese and pineapple?” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds either awful or amazing and I’m not sure which. Maybe I should ask Amber to put it on the menu to test it out with the customers.” Freya seemed to be uncoiling in the seat beside me, slowly going limp. “But what about you, River? What do you bring to the table?”

I knew what this was. The thing I was terrible at: small talk. You either had something meaningful to say or you kept your trap shut, that was my motto. But that wasn’t going to fly because she was feeling me out, making sure I wasn’t a threat, so I kept my lips moving.

“I keep out of everyone’s way,” I replied, then felt the mood in the car drop. Fuck. “Though obviously not tonight. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She shrugged. “Mum and Dad will use this as yet another opportunity to talk about my life decisions, and I get to sleep in the same bed I did when I was a kid. They have really good central heating, which is awesome.”

When I saw her shiver, I tapped on the centre console to turn the heater on. I tended to keep the heat off because I didn’t need it.

“You don’t have to…” Her voice trailed away as she felt the warm air rush over her. It was worth being a little overheated if it meant I got to watch her settle back in her seat and sigh. “But it feels so good.”

“Crank that shit up to eleven if you need to,” I said. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Eleven?” She peered at me quizzically. “Eleven degrees is cold… Oh god, did you just quote Spinal Tap?”

I smiled despite myself because my dads had sat me down and watched it when I was a teenager, explaining all the jokes. They seemed to have a lot of old records with dudes in skin tight spandex and brightly coloured long hair in their collection.

“My dad…” I nearly slipped and said the plural version. “He made me watch it with him,” I said finally.

“Oh my god, me too! What the hell was that thing with the cucumber…?”

I let her words wash over me, easing the tension in my body as I drove through the dark streets. I added my own observations, the two of us cackling about the tiny Stonehenge prop and the drummers that always died, right up until we reached her destination.

“Shit,” she said, as we pulled along her street, because standing outside on the footpath was a middle-aged couple, both wearing long Oodies, PJs and slippers. “I didn’t think…” She shot me an apologetic look. “You might want to let me out before we get to my place, because you’ll cop a grilling if you stop near them.”

“They just want to make sure you get home safe, right?” I said. I pulled up outside what looked like a nice solid house that had a well-maintained garden behind a low fence. I got out and walked around to Freya’s door to open it as she grabbed her bag off the floor.

“River, right?” I turned to see Alby, Freya’s dad, who looked a little different than he had on FaceTime when he’d had his glasses on and his hair had been sticking up. I made sure Freya got down from the ute without any dramas, then shut the door and walked over to him.

“How’s it going, mate?” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake. He took it and gripped it firmly, then gave me that little chin tilt guys do when they reckon you’ve passed the first test.

“It was nice of you to help our Freya,” her mum said and, when I turned to her, I instantly saw the resemblance. Same rich brown hair with dark blonde highlights, same hazel eyes. “Are you alright, love? Let’s get you inside and into bed.”

“Thanks for bringing her home,” Alby said stiffly, shoving his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his Oodie. He shifted restlessly. “She’s a good girl, but she takes unnecessary risks sometimes.”

“She looked like she had it all under control,” I countered. “She was gonna grab an Uber—”

“Those things.” He dismissed the app with a shake of his head. “How do you know who’s behind the wheel? Don’t have to do the proper training or anything like a taxi driver or something. Look, did you want me to fix you up with some petrol money?”

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