34. Freddie

FREDDIE

NOW – JUNIOR YEAR – MAY

T he sun’s barely up, streaming through Alex’s window like nature’s own alarm clock. She’s curled against my chest, out cold, her hair everywhere like some kind of beautiful disaster. For a guy who’s spent the last year running from this exact scenario, I’m surprisingly okay with how absolutely messed up I am.

Last night keeps replaying in my head—her call, the way we finally stopped being idiots, everything that followed. My chest feels strange, too full, like my heart’s trying to bench press my ribs.

Alex makes this little sound, her nose scrunching up as if she’s personally offended by the morning. When her eyes finally open, there’s a brief moment of confusion before recognition hits, and fuck , her smile makes my heart do backflips.

“Hi,” she mumbles, her voice rough with sleep.

“Hi yourself,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her forehead because I can do that now.

She stretches like a cat, all lazy and content, before burrowing back against me. “What time is it?”

I check my phone. “Just past eight.”

“Too early,” she groans into my chest. “Need coffee.”

I laugh, running my fingers through her hair. “Not a morning person, huh, Lexie?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, but I can feel her smile against my skin.

We just lie there for a while, existing together, until she breaks the silence. “What are we going to do?”

“Right now? Get you caffeinated before you try to compost me.”

She pokes my ribs. “You know what I mean. About everything. The summer, GSRI, all of it.”

I take a deep breath. Moment of truth, Donovan. “Well, first of all…” I shift so I can see her face. “Alexandria Ford, will you be my girlfriend? Officially? No more of this friends-with-benefits nonsense?”

Her eyes go wide. “But what about the summer? I’ll be in California for three months with GSRI, and you’ll be here, and?—”

“And I’ll still be here when you get back,” I cut her off gently. “Look, I know long distance sucks. But we’ve wasted enough time being stupid and stubborn. I want to do this right.”

“Yeah?” Her voice is small, hopeful, and it kills me that I ever made her doubt this.

“Yeah.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m done pretending I don’t want everything with you. Alexandria, I can never be the kind of man you deserve. But God damn I am going to spend every second of the rest of my life trying to be him. Even if it means dealing with your stubborn ass and love of the planet, and weird bees.”

She laughs softly, tears in her eyes. “They’re not weird—they’re crucial pollinators.”

“See? That’s what I love about you.” I pull her closer, breathing her in. "Besides, I've got plenty to keep me busy this summer. Got that management position at the gym, and Alfie's staying to work with Professor Hammond on some astrogeology research. Someone's gotta make sure he remembers to eat."

Her face brightens. “Oh! Tara’s staying too, actually. She got a summer job here.”

Our eyes meet, and I bite back a smirk. After months of watching Alfie and Tara stare at each other, this should be entertaining.

“Well,” I say carefully, “that’s… interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” Alex agrees, her tone innocent but her eyes sparkling. “Very… interesting.”

“Three months isn’t that long,” I say, steering us back on track. “And California isn’t Mars. I can fly out, you can come back for long weekends.”

“Video calls every night?” She traces patterns on my chest that make it hard to think straight.

“Every night,” I promise. “You can tell me all about saving the world, and I’ll tell you about Chad’s latest protein powder conspiracy theories.”

“Romantic,” she deadpans, but she’s fighting a smile.

“Hey, I’m working with what I’ve got here.” I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And what I’ve got is a genius girlfriend who’s about to revolutionize environmental science while I spot mediocre bench presses and try not to miss her too much.”

“So, girlfriend?” Her eyebrow goes up.

Shit. My heart skips. “If you want,” I manage, suddenly nervous as hell. I have been against the concept of girlfriend for so long that the idea terrifies me, and I realize she didn’t answer me before. Maybe it’s too much for her too soon. “I mean, I know we haven’t really talked about labels?—”

She cuts me off with a kiss that makes me forget everything.

“So,” I pull back, grinning. “Is that a yes to being my girlfriend?”

“I don’t know…” She pretends to think about it. “Your taste in music is still questionable at best.”

“Says the woman who has a playlist called ‘Songs That Make Me Think About Trees.’“

“It’s full of brilliant music!”

It’s my turn to silence her protests with another kiss, slow and deep, savoring the way she melts into me.

“Yes,” she says softly when we break apart. “Yes to being your girlfriend. Yes to figuring out the distance. Yes to all of it.”

“Even though I listen to country music sometimes?”

“Don’t push it, Donovan.”

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months. Screw it—might as well lay all my cards on the table. “Just so you know, I’ve already started looking at environmental consulting positions in California. Real ones, with companies that actually care. For after graduation next year.”

Her eyes go wide. “Freddie…”

“I’m not saying I’ll definitely end up there,” I clarify quickly. “But I’m looking. Because wherever you go, whatever world-saving mission you take on—I want in. Even if it means moving to hippie central and learning to eat tofu.”

She tackles me with a kiss that nearly sends us both off the bed. When she pulls back, her eyes are bright with tears. “I love you,” she blurts out. “I think I have since that night at the party, even when I was trying really hard not to.”

My heart beats fast. Faster than I thought possible. “I love you too, Lexie. Even when you lecture me about proper recycling techniques.”

“We should probably get up,” she murmurs against my lips. “I promised Tara we’d do brunch.”

“Five more minutes,” I negotiate, pulling her closer. “I’m conducting an important study on morning cuddles.”

She laughs but settles back against me. “Fine. But only because you’re warm.”

“Sure, that’s the only reason,” I smirk, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Has nothing to do with my irresistible charm.”

Looking at her now, I think about how far we’ve come. From that first night on my porch, talking about wildflowers, to here—planning a future I never thought I’d want. It hasn’t been easy, and the road ahead probably won’t be either. But as I hold her close, breathing in her lavender shampoo, I know it’s worth it.

Because some things are worth fighting for. Worth changing for. Worth becoming better for.

And Alex? She’s all of those things and more.

“Hey,” Alex says softly, breaking into my thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

I smile, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just about how sometimes the best things in life start with a conversation about wildflowers.”