28. Freddie

FREDDIE

NOW – JUNIOR YEAR – APRIL

M y phone buzzes as I stroll across campus, the sun shining bright overhead. I feel a sense of satisfaction about mine and Alex’s presentation. We’ve been collaborating well, and I think we’ve got a solid chance at securing a good grade.

This presentation is worth 70% of our final grade, so I can’t afford to slack off. Honestly, I’m feeling a little jittery. My grades have been steadily rising this year, even surpassing last year’s—something I’m genuinely proud of. I’ve worked hard to get here. The guys like to tease me when I turn down invitations to go out with them. Ethan in particular thinks it’s borderline sacrilege that I ended things with a couple of girls last year. None of the guys know about Alex and me, of course. But I’ve only slept with one girl since I took her virginity, and that was a drunken mistake after a particularly long day at my summer job at Ethan’s parents’ country club. Oh, and of course, the fucking insane sex I’ve had with Alex again .

Dad’s name flashes on the screen, and I feel a mix of guilt and anxiety as I answer.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to sound upbeat.

“Freddie.” His voice is gruff and tired. “You got a minute?”

I glance at my watch. “Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end. “Not really, Son. The doctor bills came in today. It’s… it’s not good.”

My stomach drops. “How bad?”

“Bad enough,” he mutters. I can almost see him rubbing his temples. “Look, I hate to ask, but is there any chance you can pick up some extra hours at that campus job of yours?”

I stop walking and lean against the wall, closing my eyes. “Dad, I’m already working as much as I can. Between classes and the lab work?—”

“I know, I know,” he cuts me off, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s just… your mother’s working herself to the bone, and Megan’s talking about deferring college to work full time. I can’t let her do that, Freddie. I just can’t.”

The weight of his words settles on me like a physical thing. “There’s an opportunity that might be coming up for me after graduation, and maybe I can talk to my professor about a paid research position,” I offer weakly.

“Research?” Dad scoffs. “Freddie, we need real money. Not some stipend that’ll barely cover groceries.”

I swallow hard, guilt churning in my gut. “I know, Dad. I’m trying.”

“Are you?” he snaps, then sighs heavily. “I’m sorry, Son. I don’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just… I’m supposed to be providing for this family, and I can’t even get out of bed some days without feeling like I’m gonna pass out.” He takes a breath before adding, “Don’t tell your mother that I called, please.”

“Dad, it’s okay,” I say, even though we both know it’s not. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah, we will.” His voice is shaky.

“What about savings?” I ask, knowing it’s a long shot.

Dad’s bitter laugh confirms it. “What savings? We burned through that months ago. Freddie, I hate to put this on you, but you’re our best hope right now. You’re in college, learning valuable skills. Surely there must be some opportunities there for a smart kid like you to make some real money?”

Fuck. Hearing Dad like this—this guy, he used to be my fucking hero. The man who could fix anything, solve any problem.

The worst part? I can hear the shame in his voice, like he’s failed us somehow by getting sick. It makes me want to punch something, to scream at the unfairness of it all.

My dad, the man who taught me what it means to be a man, to protect and care for your family, is now the one who needs protecting. And he hates it. I can see it in the way he carries himself, in the sharpness of his silence.

God, what I wouldn’t give to see him stand tall again, to hear him laugh without that undercurrent of pain. But life’s a bitch, and right now, it’s got its claws in my family. And I’m the only one who might be able to do something about it.

It’s not like I haven’t been offered some help, Alfie offered to help. But, this isn’t anybody else’s burden to carry, and we’re not charity. Last week, he caught me on the phone with Mom, must've overheard something about the medical bills. He cornered me in the kitchen later, awkward as hell, shuffling his feet. “Listen,” he'd said, not quite meeting my eyes, “I know your family needs help and...fuck I don’t know how to say this but,” He shifted his weight, looking more uncomfortable than I'd ever seen him. "It wouldn't be a big deal. Just...you know. I could make some calls, move some things around.”

I shut that down immediately, maybe a bit too harshly. Told him I appreciated it but we didn’t need any handouts. The word tasted bitter in my mouth, but I couldn't bear the thought of taking his money and owing my friend anything like that sort of sum. Dad's voice echoed in my head: “A man takes care of his own.”

Alfie just nodded, accepting it without pushing, and that was that. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, handed me one without a word, and we stood there in comfortable silence until I felt human again. Classic Alfie—offering help in that quiet way of his, then respecting the hell out of your decision to refuse it.

So, yeah, I’ll look into options. Even if those options make me feel like I’m selling a piece of my soul. Because that’s what you do for family. That’s what Dad would do. And maybe, just maybe, if I can pull this off, I’ll see a spark of that man in his eyes again. Even if it means becoming someone I’m not sure I want to be.

I think about the EcoTech position Dr. Reeves mentioned. It would pay well—really well. But it’s everything I’ve started to resent, everything Alex and I have been working against.

“I… I’ll look into some other things,” I say finally, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

“That’s my boy,” Dad says, and the pride in his voice makes my chest ache. “I knew I could count on you. You’ve always been responsible.”

Our presentation fades to black. For a hot second, the lecture hall is so quiet I wonder if everyone’s taken a nap. I rub my sweating palms on my jeans.

Alex shifts beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. It’s brief, but fuck me if it doesn’t feel like grabbing onto a life raft in a shitstorm of anxiety.

“And that concludes our proposal for the Jefferson Mine rehabilitation project,” Alex announces, her voice strong and clear. Last year, she’d have been shaking like a chihuahua in an earthquake, but now? She’s owning it. I’m so fucking proud of her I could burst.

“We’ll be happy to take any questions,” she adds, flashing a smile.

The silence stretches on. I resist the weird urge to start tap dancing or some shit, instead scanning the room. Professor Bam’s face is as unreadable as ancient hieroglyphs. Our classmates look like a mix of confused puppies and envious assholes. Ha!

Just as the silence threatens to become more awkward, Professor Bam leans forward. “That was quite impressive, Ms. Ford, Mr. Donovan. Your healing timeline concept is particularly intriguing.”

Her words break the spell. Suddenly, hands are shooting up all around the room. Alex and I exchange a quick glance, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. We did it. We actually fucking did it.

For the next twenty minutes, we’re in the hot seat, fielding questions from all directions. It’s like being on a game show, if game shows were about land rehabilitation and plant puns.

We elaborate on our phased approach to land rehabilitation, our innovative use of native plants, and of course, our pride and joy: the wetland ‘kidney’ for natural water filtration.

“And how do you propose to fund such an ambitious project?” Some smartass in the back asks. It sounds sort of like Eric, which makes it hard not to answer “How about you shut the fuck up?”

But instead, I launch into our funding spiel, pulling numbers out of the corners of my brain. As I’m talking, I catch Professor Bam actually smiling.

Holy shit. She really likes it.

And Alex? She’s looking at me with a small smile playing on her lips.

When we finally wrap up, the room’s buzzing like a beehive on crack. Our classmates are swarming us, probably hoping our genius is contagious, or some shit.

“Excellent work, you two,” Professor Bam says, actually sounding human for once. “You’ve set a high bar for the rest of the class.” Translation: the rest of you losers better step up your game.

As she leaves, Alex turns to me, her eyes shining. “We did it,” she says softly, as if she can hardly believe it herself.

“We did,” I agree, fighting the urge to pull her into a hug. “Dream team, right?”

She laughs, and I swear to God, it’s better than any drug. “More like barely functioning on caffeine and desperation team.”

“Same thing.” I shrug, grinning. “Well done out there, you were pretty badass.”

She looks at her feet. “Thanks, Freddie.”

As we start to pack up our materials, the door bursts open. Tara bounds in, grinning like a maniac. “There they are! You guys crushed it, seriously. I am so happy presentation day is over.”

Tara and Ryan Chen presented earlier. Their ideas were good, but I zoned out for most of it. It’s not my fault—Alex was next to me, shaking her leg up and down, distracting me.

“Come on, we’re all heading to Moe’s to celebrate. First round’s on me,” Tara proclaims. “I already texted Troy, and he said the boys will meet us there.”

I glance at Alex, feeling like I’m back in high school, asking my crush to prom. Are we cool enough to hang out like this, or are we still in the “I might murder you in your sleep” phase? But she’s already nodding.

“God, yes,” she says. “I need a burger the size of my head and approximately all the fries in Colorado. We deserve it after crushing that presentation.”

The knot in my chest loosens. She’s right—we did crush it. Even the postgrads were taking notes, and not the “how not to present” kind. Now we just need to nail the poster session for that last 30%, and we’re golden.

“Let’s go then, dorks,” I announce. “We can start planning our poster shit tomorrow.”

An hour later, we’re crammed into a booth at Moe’s. The table’s a warzone of fries, burgers big enough to feed a small country, and enough beer to drown a fish.

I can’t stop watching Alex. She’s talking a mile a minute, waving her hands around like she’s trying to land a plane. There’s a light in her eyes I haven’t seen since… well, since before I fucked everything up. She catches me staring and says, “What? Do I have ketchup on my face or something?” I just smile and shake my head, turning back to Ethan, who’s telling a story that probably ends with him naked and ashamed. Again.

I raise my glass, the triumph of our presentation still buzzing through me. “To our success,” I say, clinking my glass against Alex’s.

The guys had cleared out with surprising efficiency, leaving us alone in my room. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts shadows across Alex’s face as she sits on the edge of my bed, legs tucked under her. She looks both completely at ease and utterly out of place, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

“Alex,” I start, her name escaping my lips before I can stop it.

She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. “Yeah?”

I take a deep breath, searching for the right words. I want to tell her everything—how she makes my chest tight just by existing, how I’ve never felt this way about anyone. But the words stick in my throat.

Because what kind of asshole would I be, laying that on her when I can’t follow through? When I’ve got my family depending on me, my future mapped out in ways that don’t include fairy tale endings?

“I’ve been thinking...” I manage.

“About the presentation?” she asks, but there’s a knowing look in her eyes that kills me.

I shake my head. “About us.”

She nods slowly, a small smile playing at her lips. “Me too.”

The admission hangs between us, charged with possibility. She deserves so much better than what I can give her. But I’m not strong enough to stay away.

“You’ve changed,” I say softly, like a coward who can’t admit he’s falling for her. “Since last year.”

“So have you,” she counters. “You’re different. More open.”

Her words hit home, and for a moment, I consider telling her the truth. About how she’s made me question everything I thought I knew. About how fucking terrified I am of disappointing her.

Instead, I let myself be drawn closer, watching the gold flecks in her eyes, memorizing every detail of her face. Because I’m selfish. Because I want her even though I know I shouldn’t.

When she closes the distance between us, I kiss her back like a man drowning. Like maybe if I kiss her hard enough, she won’t notice I’m not the prince charming she deserves.

My resolve crumbles as memories of our first time flood back. I want her. God help me, I want all of her. Not just her body, but her heart, her future, everything she is.

But I can’t have that. Not when I’m barely holding my own life together. Not when I might have to sacrifice everything for my family.

So I’ll take what I can get, knowing it makes me the worst kind of selfish. Knowing that someday, this will probably break us both.

“Alex,” I murmur, my heart pounding against my ribs. My resolve to keep things friendly crumbles.

I hesitate before kissing her again, knowing this will cross a line. These kisses won’t be sweet and friendly anymore; they’ll be consuming, claiming, owning. But Alex surprises me, taking control with a confidence that makes my head spin.

She pushes me gently onto my back, her eyes never leaving mine. My dick thickens in my pants, and I groan at the tightness.

Each soft kiss she trails down my chest feels like fire, like she’s marking me. My breath catches as she moves lower, her intentions made clear and sexy as hell.

“Alex,” I manage to gasp out, overwhelmed by her boldness. “You don’t have to?—”

She looks up at me through dark lashes, a mischievous glint in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. “I want to,” she says, her voice husky in a way that makes my whole body tense. “Let me make you feel good, Freddie.”

The sight of her like this—confident, wanting, in control—nearly undoes me. This isn’t the shy, awkward Alex I met last year. This is a woman who knows exactly what she wants. The transformation is intoxicating.

I put my hands behind my head, enjoying the view as she kneels on the bed and peels off my clothes. My dick springs out, so fucking ready for her. I am always so hard for this woman.

She puts my dick in her mouth, and I throw back my head. Her wet tongue glides across my head, and I nearly explode in her mouth there. She moans onto me as she starts moving up and down, and my cock throbs.

“Alex,” I warn, my voice strained as pleasure builds. My hands fist in the sheets, struggling to maintain control.

She sucks faster, and I watch her head bob up and down on my cock. It is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. She sends me deeper into bliss when she uses one of her hands to hold my dick steady and help her take more of me into her mouth.

My hips start pushing into her, encouraging her to take more of me. She makes a noise of pleasure that is the most seductive thing I’ve ever heard.

“Lexie, I’m gonna—” I warn, pulling my dick out of her mouth gently so she doesn’t have to swallow me. But she looks me in the eyes and keeps sucking. Fuck, Lexie Ford is a sex goddess.

I roar as I come while she’s still sucking me. She licks the sensitive end of me and smiles up at me.

We get cleaned up, and she pads over to the bed, wearing one of my t-shirts that is comically oversized on her.

“Come here, Lex,” I make a space for her to crawl into my arms.

I pull her close against my chest, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She’s already half-asleep, her breathing evening out. The combination of a fucking incredible orgasm and wine has left us pleasantly exhausted, limbs heavy and minds quiet.

“Stay,” I murmur into her hair, not wanting to let go of this moment.

She makes a contented sound, curling closer. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

I drift off with her tucked safely in my arms, feeling at peace. My last conscious thought before I sleep is about Lexie. I know it will be the first thing I think about when I wake up too. It has been for about a year now.