Blindsided (Harris Brothers World, #2)

by Amy Daws

“It’s not news that I have never been a willowy waif, and I know that I’ll never change because I’ve tried every bleddy diet in the universe and nothing sticks.” “You don’t need to change, Cook,” Mac states seriously, drawing my gaze to his green eyes that are soft around the edges in a way that makes my tummy do the flippys again. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and crushes me to his chest. “You’re bonnie, and you’re my best mate. You should never feel the need to hide.”

The wind beneath my sails has ceased, and my huffy, defensive attitude from moments ago has been completely washed away by this sweet ginger giant standing in my kitchen. I set my mug on the counter and pull out of his embrace to gaze up at him curiously. “Did you say ‘best mate’?” He shrugs. “Aye, you have been nearly since the second we met, which is why I want my teammates to know you. You’re my wee treasure, and I’m right proud of you.”

Mac laughs at my remark, and replies, “Well, you’re looking rather bonnie yourself tonight. I know you wear dresses a lot, but that one suits you differently.”

“I could say you’re a beaut of a lass tonight, and I wonder what it would be like to shag you senseless, and it would have absolutely no effect on your ears.” I roll my eyes and steel myself to ignore his remark. The thought of Mac wanting to shag me is like a Great Dane having the hots for an overweight Shih Tzu. Just not going to happen. And, objectively, I know I look nice tonight, so he’s just stating a fact. Leslie was right—this black wrap dress was made for me. With the minor alterations I did, it hugs my figure perfectly as well.

The world can often feel like a one-size-fits-all place, but applying a few alterations can make life a perfect fit. That and Spanx. God bless the creator of Spanx.

One little problem, though. Never Have I Ever is a game that is entirely about The Sex. And considering I’ve never had The Sex, I realise with ominous regret that I am in very big trouble.

In fact, the one person I got the closest with was my design school boyfriend who waited until we were lying naked on his dorm room floor to tell me he was gay. It was so horrifying that I still cringe when I think back to my awkward response. My exact words as I lay there, spread-eagle and waiting for him to enter me were, “Good on you.” Honestly, I should probably discuss that with a therapist at some point in my life.

“Aye, you’re a bonnie lass. I’d have to be into blokes not to fancy the idea of shagging you.”

“Is this how you’re making tonight special? By talking about my taters at the dinner table?” My brow quirks. “Did you just call your breasts taters?” She shrugs and wrinkles her nose. “It’s what my mother called them growing up.” Her voice hitches as she mimics her mother’s deep south accent, “Don’t let your taters hang out of your blouse, Freya, or you’ll look like a proper harlot.” My shoulders shake with laughter. “Your mother sounds like a delight.” “Oh, trust me, she is. She’s a Catholic, wholesome, southern woman whose best friends were nuns. It’s amazing she didn’t end up in the convent herself.”

“Mac, you left me in London. You gave me no warning that you were planning to leave; you told me after the deal was done. All this happened after you kissed me in front of all of our friends and gave me the impression that we were…” “We were what?” he snaps. “More than friends!” I snap. “More than friends with benefits. Just…more!” “We were more,” he bellows back at me. “But my circumstances changed.” “And I’m just supposed to be okay with that?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end. “Mac, I’m not okay with that!”

“I just can’t go to your flat and spend the night and act like…” my voice trails off because I don’t know if I should finish this sentence. It’s too revealing. “Like what? Fucking say it,” he growls. “Like we haven’t made love to each other,” I cry, my voice coming out in a strangled sob. “Like I don’t miss your touch and the feel of you lying next to me in my bed. Like I haven’t missed the feel of your lips on my shoulder when you kiss me goodbye in the mornings. I miss all of that, Mac. I miss you!” “So do I!” he booms, and the volume causes me to squint. “I even miss your daft, perverted cat!”

“And I miss my best mate taking my fucking calls. I’ve been here for three weeks going through a lot of shite, Freya. I’m grieving, and all I want is to hear your voice.”

“Don’t you get it? I can’t take your calls without hurting, Mac,” I whine, sniffing loudly and swiping at the tears on my face. “I’m sorry…but am I supposed to sacrifice my own happiness for yours?” “So talking to me hurts you,” he says it like a statement. “Yes,” I whisper back. “Why?” “Because I’m in love with you, you cow!” I shriek, my voice breaking at the end with that honest admission that I never planned to say today. I don’t think I ever planned to say it because it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way, so why admit something that only makes you look more pathetic?

“You decide to tell me something like that now…when I’m in Scotland, and I’ve just started with a new club. How the fuck do you see this working out, Freya?” “I don’t, obviously,” I exclaim, my chest rising defensively. “Just like you never saw us working out together. The game is certainly up on that.” He shakes his head, his jaw ticking with agitation. “Why did you come today? To make me feel guilty? To fuck with my head?” “No, Mac. That’s not why I came,” I argue, hurt and confusion coursing through my veins. “I came because I heard you were struggling, and despite my feelings, I’m still trying to be your friend. I still care about you. Just in a different way.”

What I said to Freya was unforgivable. I pushed away my best mate because she said she was in love with me, and I hate myself for it. She’s important to me, of course, she is. But love? I’m not ready for that. I can’t take that kind of admission right now. So I was horrible to her which means, I’ve lost her for good and must suffer the consequences.

“I just hate how unhappy you are here when I know you wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for me.” “Grandad,” I state, releasing his hand so he can sit more comfortably. “I’m here because I want to be. You’re important to me. You have to know that,” my voice cracks and my eyes begin to burn with unshed tears as I force out the next words. “I would do anything for you. You’re my hero.”

“Ever since your gran died, I haven’t stopped thinking about all the things I should have done with her. I should have bought her more flowers. Showered her with wee presents, shown her my love more. Hell, I should have sat my arse on that sofa and watched her favourite programs on the telly instead of watching football all the damn time.” Suddenly, memories of Freya’s face when I bought her those carnations flash through my mind. The wee smile she gave me when she opened her kitty coffee mug. The unexpected way she cried when we delivered those rescue kittens. My heart begins to pound in my chest when I recall the hours upon hours we spent on her sofa talking about nothing and watching that ridiculous show, Heartland.

“When I look back on my time with your gran, I wish I would have done a lot more of nothing with her. I wish I would have been content to be fat and happy with her.” He lowers his hand and looks at me seriously. “It’s a very special thing when you can find a lass that you can be fat and happy with.” His colourful words make me smile. “But you made Gran happy. Anyone could see that.”

“Aye, I know. But as my time comes to an end, I can tell you with absolute certainty that football is the last thing on my mind.” He looks at me, his eyes wide and pleading as tears form in the depths of them. “I’ve steered you wrong there, Macky. Since you were wee, I’ve been telling you to stay away from a woman because she could be a distraction. But I never meant for you to stay away from the woman.”

“The woman who makes you want to give it all up. Like when your dad met your mum.” I sit back in my chair, gripping the back of my neck as I process what he’s saying. “You always told me that Dad threw his career away when he met Mum. You said he walked away from a major opportunity.” Grandad blinks slowly, his lips pursed in disappointment. “Aye, he did, but do you think he regrets it for a second?” he asks, his eyes flaring with mischief. I huff out a small laugh. “I should hope not, considering I’m the reason he quit.” Grandad smiles beneath his mustache. “Exactly. He met his lassie at eighteen. And you’ve met yours now…in Red.”

“Grandad, Freya and I aren’t together. We’re not even speaking anymore. I’m…I’m not in love with her.” “Are you truly this thick-headed?”

“Macky, I love you, boy. God, do I love you. But it amazes me that you are so great at seeing the big picture on the pitch, but you cannot see it when it comes to your own life.” He pauses, his eyes taking on a tender look of sympathy before he whispers, “You’re heartbroken, lad.”

“I saw the way you looked at her at the Highland Games and when she showed up at your match. You’re in love with that girl if ever I’ve seen love.” My face bends at his words. “You can’t know that, Grandad. I’ve never even been in love.” “Of course you’re in love with her, you wee idiot!” he fires back, his voice gruff and unapologetic. “You’ve been playing like shite here in Glasgow, not because you’re at a new club or because I’m dying. You’re miserable because you don’t have that bonnie freckle-faced lass in your life to keep your head on straight. I’ve seen the loss of her in your eyes these last couple of months, and it guts me to the bones.”

“I knew you loved her the moment you introduced me to her, and every moment after, when you would find ways to bring her name up in conversation. I thought you’d been happy your whole life out on that football pitch. But I was wrong. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re looking at her. I’m mighty grateful I lived long enough to see that.”

“You’re a stubborn Scot, just like me.” His face grows serious again. “But it’s not words that matter in the end. It’s actions. She’s your big picture, Macky. Don’t let her out of your sight, or I promise, you’ll live to regret it.”

“Allie, I’m done waiting around for things to happen to me. Mac said a lot of horrible things to me in his car that day, but there was a shred of truth to some of them.” I replay the scene in my mind for the millionth time, and it still stings because we were clearly on two completely different pages. “I would have probably dropped everything and gone with Mac to Glasgow if only he’d have asked. I would have done long distance with him, or maybe even taken a break and waited to see how the year apart went. I would have made a lot of sacrifices to be with him, but I never said any of that because I was too terrified to ask for what I want.” “And what do you want?” “I want to be happy!”

“You deserve it all, Freya.”

Funerals. Fuck them. Fuck the lot of them. They can go to fucking hell. Fuck cancer. Fuck old age. Fuck sympathetic looks.

Grandad always told me it was better to get that salt out of your eyes than have it festering in your belly.

“What is my dream then, wise wee sister?” She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks over at me. “You just want to be content and happy.” My brows lift. “Is that so?” She nods. “You’ve spent your whole life people-pleasing because you’re so worried about making someone unhappy. Now that grandad is gone, it’s time to make yourself happy.” I internalize that reply, feeling an ache in my belly because the one person whose happiness I didn’t take care of is the one person I care most about in this world. Tilly stands up and walks back over to the door. “Also, Freya is downstairs.” I’m on my feet in less than a second. “Buried the lead there, didn’t you?”

She’s lost weight. I don’t like it.

“Freya, I love you.” Her body freezes as her jaw drops. She turns to look up at me with wide, confused eyes. “You what?” I lick my lips, the words feeling foreign on my tongue because I’ve never said them to a lass in all my life, but there they are. “I love you.” Her face wrinkles up like she’s confused, and she begins shaking her head side to side. “No, Mac. You don’t.” She moves to open the door, and I push it closed again. “Yes, Cookie. I do.” She laughs and grabs the handle again. “You don’t.” “I do!” “You don’t!” “Stop telling me I don’t love you, woman!” I bellow, my muscles tight with anger. “What’s wrong with you?” She blanches, her face the picture of disillusionment at the scene taking place in front of her. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me is that I’m just finally feeling human again after you chewed me up and spit me out in a Glasgow hotel parking lot. You acted like I was only good enough for you if I went home and slept with you that night. And the moment I turned you down, you treated me like I was a waste of your time and confirmed the fact that everything you ever told me was a lie.” “It wasn’t a lie,” I state, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “Christ Freya, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I only wanted to sleep with you. I just wanted to be near you and have you near me again. Nothing I told you when we were together was ever a lie.” She purses her lips and nods, her eyes red around the edges. “So you just lie when you’re in a figh...

“Why did you say it?” “Because I love her!” I state again, agitated by his ignorant question. “Christ, get your ears checked, you annoying bawbag.” Roan purses his lips. “You didn’t give her any reasons for why you love her?” My face crumples up as I look over at him. “No…what reasons?” Roan huffs out an annoyed noise and turns me to face him on my stool, nearly tipping me off of it in the process. “You can’t break a girl’s heart like you did and expect to just drop an I Love You. Ag, you have to make her believe it, man.” “She doesn’t want to believe it!” I argue, my muscles turning to mush with every passing minute. “She’s moved on. She’s fucking someone else, and she hates my guts.” Roan shakes his head from side to side. “If you can look at that girl’s eyes and not see the heartbreak all over her face when she looks at you, then you don’t know her at all.”

“I saw her the moment we stepped into that shop last year, man. I think maybe I’ve loved her since I first met her.” Roan nods, his mouth tipping into a sad smile. “That’s why you have to fight harder to win her back, you idiot.” He grabs my arm and shakes me. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and wallowing over this move to Glasgow and make her see that you don’t just love her because you miss her. You love her because she’s your entire world, and you’re willing to do anything to be with her.”

“I bought her a rescue kitten, all right? I got it from this guy Roger who we both know, and I have this wee thing with me now, and I just need to find Freya.” There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Mac, you can’t just give her a kitten. Not after everything that’s happened. It’s only been a week since your grandad’s funeral. Give her some time.” “I’m not just giving her a kitten, Allie,” I growl and flinch when I realise how angry I am. “I’m trying to win her back. I love her, Al.”

“Happy fucking Birthday, Cookie. Christ, how am I still screwing this up?” he grumbles, gripping the back of his neck and shaking his head as he appears to search his mind for a moment. He exhales heavily and pins me with a look. “Freya Cook, I want you to live with me because I’m madly in love with you, and I don’t want to wait to start our lives together. I’m trying to show you that I’m all in. I want you in London, Scotland, anywhere you’ll have me. I don’t want less with you. I want more. Heartland more. That’s why I want to fucking marry you, you stubborn woman!” “What?” I shriek, scaring the poor kitty in my hands. “How could you possibly know you want to marry me? Are you an idiot?” “If that makes me an idiot, then aye, sure. I’m an idiot!” Mac snaps back, his Scottish accent getting thicker with his intensity.

“My love for you is as real as your love for that daft horse show, Freya. I even love how you sound like Hagrid from Harry Potter when you’re feeling poorly. I love that you hate drinking out of anything other than a coffee cup. I love that most designers would sketch beautiful women’s dresses or shoes but you sketch cat pyjamas and paw slippers.”

“I’m sorry for how I told you I loved you at my parents’ house. You were right, I was a mess that day, but I’m not anymore. I’m seeing everything clearly now, Cookie. I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you in that damn boutique when you spoiled Shameless for me. You blindsided me, Freya. You blindsided me with everything I never knew I wanted.” He leans in and presses a hard, chaste kiss to my lips, his breath coming heavy and fast as he pulls back and adds, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you’re my wee treasure, and despite how crazy mad you make me and how much we bicker, there’s no one else I’d want to fight with in life.” He hesitates and gets a serious look on his face before adding. “I wasn’t going to do this here, but you’ve given me no other choice.” He drops down on one knee. He’s dropping down on one bleddy knee! He reaches into his pocket. He’s reaching into his bleddy pocket! A blue velvet box appears in his hand. Like he magicked it into existence just by sheer will. He cracks open the box, and there sits a ring. A giant monstrosity of a thing that you would see dangling for dear life on one of those lanky supermodels with bones for fingers. It’s the kind of ring that’s so enormous it probably tips those tiny model’s weight over from ninety-nine pounds to one hundred and two.

“Do you want children, woman?” I ask again, anxiety gripping at my neck. She shrugs coyly. “Do you?” I level her with a glare. “You first.” She narrows her eyes. “How about we both say yes or no on the count of three. One, two—” “Fuck yes,” I growl over top of Freya’s own, “Yes.”

God, I love this woman.

“Christ, I’m fat and happy,” Mac states as he pokes his tiny pouch of a stomach and turns away from the full-length mirror in our walk-in closet. He strides over to where I’m lying on our bed and sticks his belly out. “This right here…Pure dead brilliant happiness.”