Seth

Seth couldn't help but feel rejected. He didn't want to. Why bother caring? If she didn't want to be his friend, well, so be it.

He stomped out of the stable and into the house, slamming the door shut with an irritated force.

"Is someone angry?" Danielle's voice called from the living room.

God, he'd almost forgotten for a moment that they both lived here with him.

"Sorry," he muttered, walking into the living room. She was sitting on the couch under a blanket, a book in her hands.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting up and making room for him to join her.

He accepted her silent invitation when she patted the cushion beside her, gesturing for him to sit down.

"Why is your friend so cold... so stubborn?" he dared to ask, the words spilling out before he could stop them. He didn't have anyone else to talk to, and the temptation to share his frustration with Danielle was too strong to resist.

"What did you do now...?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seth let out a sigh. "Why does it always have to be me that did something to her?" he asked, feeling a bit hurt by her implication.

"Freya is my best friend, and I know her. She's not cold without a reason," Danielle said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him, as if trying to read him.

"I just... I did something kind for her. I bought her some riding boots to show-"

"Don't you know her a bit by now?" Danielle interrupted.

"What? What's so terrible about that?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voice. He didn't understand either of them, and it was starting to wear on him.

"Freya is... well, she's independent. She has to be. It's her way of protecting herself," Danielle explained. "That's what happens when you go through a lot of shit. She doesn't want to rely on anyone. She doesn't want anyone to take care of her. Because every time she did, she ended up hurt-really hurt."

Seth stayed silent, her words sinking in.

Freya didn't trust anyone. That much was clear now. And maybe she had every right not to. Her independence wasn't about pride-it was about survival. Danielle was right about that.

"And I understand her," Danielle continued, her voice softer now. "But your situation is... complicated. Why would Freya let you in? Why take that risk when, in the end, one of you is going to get hurt?"

"I know. One of us is going to lose, and it's going to rip us apart." His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through it. "But I can't just stop. I can't back down and pretend this doesn't matter-because it does. To both of us."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I just wish it didn't have to be like this."

Danielle sighed, her gaze softening as she watched him. "I will always protect her, Seth. So if you really care about her, don't push her too far. Don't hurt her more than she needs to be," she said, sorrow flickering in her eyes.

Push her too far? Freya was the one doing all the pushing-shoving him out, shutting him down at every turn.

But how was he supposed to keep his distance when everything about her pulled him in, no matter how hard he tried?

Freya

She closed the door and kicked off her boots. Her gaze lingered on them for a moment. They were perfectly fine-worn in, comfortable, reliable. Why did he feel the need to meddle? To decide she needed something new?

Why go to the effort? Why spend money on her?

She bit her lip faintly, her thoughts spinning. This wasn't about the boots, and she knew it. It was about him. About the confusing, irritating signals he kept sending her.

Pretending to care.

"Freya?"

She followed Danielle's voice, stepping into the doorway and peeking her head through the opening.

Danielle patted the cushion on the couch beside her. "Come here for a moment," she said softly.

With a small sigh, Freya did as she was asked, crossing the room to sit beside her.

"I was thinking we could go and buy a bed tomorrow," Danielle said.

Freya frowned, giving her a confused look. "What? Why?"

"Well, so you don't have to share with Seth anymore. We could put it in one of the guest rooms."

"I don't really see the point," Freya replied, crossing her arms. "If he wins the bet, we'll have to leave anyway. Why waste money on something that might not even matter?"

Danielle shrugged. "If he wins, it'll still take time for all of us to move out. He can't just throw us out in one day." She paused, her expression softening. "And besides, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be forced to stay so close to him."

Freya knew Danielle was probably right. But a part of her didn't want to admit it-not out loud, not even to herself.

"I don't really mind sharing the bed with him, if I'm being honest," she blurted out, her voice unsteady as her heart picked up its pace. "Uhm... we actually kissed. And I know it's not good. I know. But it felt so good. And I don't want it-at least, I don't think I do-but at the same time-"

"You kissed?" Danielle interrupted, her eyes widening with concern. "Freya, this is not good."

"I know!" Freya ran a hand through her hair, frustration and guilt bubbling up. "I know that... but it made me feel alive. Like I haven't felt alive in so long, you know?"

Danielle sighed deeply, her worry etched into every word. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Freya. You two want completely different things, and for one of you to get it, the other has to lose it all. I'm sorry, but I really don't think you should let yourself feel this way about him. I just don't see how it could work out."

Freya nodded slightly, her gaze dropping for a moment. "I appreciate it. I don't want you to worry," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'm not going to let him in. I'm just saying... it feels good to feel something. You get that?"

"But will it be worth it in the end?" Danielle asked.

Worth it? She didn't know. How could she? But wasn't it better to feel something, even if it ended in pain, than to live in this endless numbness? For once, she felt alive. Like waking up after years of feeling nothing but cold. It scared her, but it also made her want more.

But she wasn't going to fall for him. Of course she wasn't. She couldn't.

And yet, she could feel herself treading dangerously close to the edge.

Being near him, sharing the same roof, the same air, the same stolen moments.

Seriously, lying pressed against him at night, feeling his warmth seep through the thin barriers between them.

An irritating, unwelcome thought flickered through her mind, breaking past the walls she'd worked so hard to build:

How could anyone not risk falling?

Worse, how could she stop herself if she already was?

~*~*~*~*~

She stood outside the bedroom door, hesitating. Her hand hovered over the handle, trembling slightly before she finally pulled it down. Her legs carried her inside, though the unease twisting in her stomach begged her to turn around.

The room was dark. She'd stayed up talking to Danielle for hours, letting the night creep in. Maybe it was deliberate-a way to avoid the chance that he'd still be awake.

She hadn't replaced her phone yet, leaving her with no source of light. The thought of turning on the lamp and risking waking him wasn't tempting.

But it left her fumbling in the dark, searching for the oversized T-shirt she usually slept in.

Her clothes clung to her, reeking of horses and sweat. She grimaced as she peeled them off, layer by layer, until she was left standing in her bra and panties. The cool air prickled against her bare skin, making her shiver.

Would she dare?

What if he moved closer to her again? Pressed himself against her? Warm skin against warm skin?

Her breath hitched at the thought.

Frightening.

Tempting.

But she lifted the duvet and slid under it. The mattress shifted as she settled her weight, and the movement made him stir slightly.

Freya lay on her back, holding her breath, not daring to move a muscle.

It didn't matter.

"How are your parents like?" Seth's voice broke through the darkness, low and quiet.

"What?"

"Tell me about your parents," he murmured.

Her heart thudded in her chest, heat rushing to her skin, though it wasn't warmth she welcomed.

"I-I... why?" she asked, her voice faltering.

"I want to know. You know about my dad," he said, his tone soft but insistent.

Her throat tightened. She wasn't ready for this.

"There's not much to tell," she stammered, her chest aching as if her ribs were closing in. "They're both dead."

The silence stretched endlessly, smothering her words and pulling at her walls, piece by piece.

Then, suddenly, his hand fumbled over the duvet, brushing against her body.

"What are you doing?" she blurted, sharper than she meant to be.

"I'm trying to find your hand," he said softly.

"Well, you don't need to," she snapped. His hand retreated, leaving a strange mix of guilt and relief in its wake.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said after a pause, his voice carrying a tenderness that made her chest ache. "What happened?"

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn away from him. Fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

"I don't like talking about myself," she muttered. Please, just stop.

"But I like listening to you," he said quietly.

Her eyes darted around the room, desperate to find something-anything-to anchor her gaze. But the darkness offered no escape.

"Uh... Mum died when I was fifteen. Car accident," she said, her voice cracking like brittle glass. "And Dad... he hung himself a couple of months later. Couldn't survive the heartbreak, I guess."

The words tore at her throat, raw and bitter. She didn't want to go there-not with him. It was too much.

But she couldn't stop.

"And so I lost them both. Almost at the same time. Left me alone. But I had Nova. And Danielle." Her voice wavered, and she hated the weakness in it.

Her breath hitched as the tears came, hot and unrelenting.

She wasn't sure when Seth moved closer. She only felt his warmth pressing against her side, his arm sliding around her and holding her firmly. The weight of his embrace both comforted and suffocated her.

"I'm so sorry, Freya," he whispered, and the sincerity in his voice shattered what little control she had left.

She swallowed the sob that clawed its way up her throat. "And then I had to move in with my granddad. The only family I had left."

Her words slowed, the bitterness thickening with every syllable. "He was a piece of shit. A disgusting man."

Her chest tightened painfully, but she kept going. She couldn't stop now.

"Thankfully, I got out a year later. When I was sixteen. Moved into this shitty studio apartment. But it worked. I didn't care. I was at the stable most of the time anyway. And I got work here. This place became my home. My escape. From everything."

Seth hugged her tighter, his other arm sliding under her pillow as if to cradle her completely. She could feel his breath near her temple, steady and grounding, but it didn't stop the tears streaming down her face.

"And then Caleb came into my life," she whispered, the words sticking in her throat. "Kind at first, obviously. Made me fall for him straight away. But the happiness didn't last. It never does."

Her heart pounded, her words trembling as much as her body.

"But still... the stable and Nova... they were what kept me here. They gave me the strength I needed. The joy I needed to survive."

Her voice cracked again as she forced out the words that sat heavily in her chest.

"I'm not trying to be difficult," she murmured, her voice fragile but determined.

"I'm not trying to ruin your plans or wreck your dreams. But this place... it's the reason I'm still here."

A/N - I just want to thank you all for being so kind and supportive. Your engagement and thoughtful words mean so much to me, and I truly appreciate each and every one of you.

What did you think of the chapter? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Love,
Kenna.