Perfekt Match (The Ære Saga Book 4) Page 5

  “Jason! Are you listening to me?” Mia placed one hand on her hip.

  Jason’s pale, pink lips turned up in a half smile. He offered me his hand in affable greeting. “Hey,” he drawled, a hint of a southern accent in his erudite voice. “We haven’t met. I’m Jason.”

  “Freya,” I said primly. My hand shot out of its own accord, the pleasantry no doubt driven by the warmth that had ebbed back into my heart following my nap. “Tyr and I grew up together.”

  “In Sweden?” Jason wrapped a large hand around mine and gave it a firm squeeze. A spark shot up my arm as I processed the energy. Jason’s grip radiated confidence. He was clearly comfortable in his skin, a trait I respected…even if I couldn’t respect the human who possessed it. “Freya?”

  “Uh.” I shook my head. “Ja. Tyr and I were neighbors. In Sweden.” I hoped I was remembering our cover story correctly.

  “And now you’re here. Are you a student at Redwood State, too?” Jason still hadn’t released my hand.

  “Um…” The flashing in my head continued with a vengeance. Wake up, subsidiaries. I have one of yours. “Uh…”

  “Freya?” Brynn turned to Henrik. “She’s swaying. Maybe she should lie down.”

  “No, I’m…uh…” Gods, I wished I could turn off the light show. Somewhere in Asgard, a subsidiary Norn was not doing her job.

  The flashing intensified as Jason stepped right into my personal space. He lifted the hand not holding mine to my forehead, turning the inside of my head into a disco. “You’re not warm, but you’re white as a ghost. And Brynn’s right, you’re swaying. Lying down might not be a bad idea.”

  Jason’s words snapped me back from the ledge. Not him, too.

  I wrenched my hand away. “I feel fine. Fine.” The second fine came out with more force than I’d meant it to, but I was so sick of being coddled. How was I supposed to heal if everyone insisted on treating me like I was on borrowed time? Even the guy I’d known all of two minutes?

  “I’m fine,” I said again, this time through gritted teeth.

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to make sure you were feeling all right.”

  “Love? Why did you call her Love?” Brynn blurted.

  My own eyebrows shot up in surprise. Had the infinitely discreet Mia shared our secret?

  “He calls all girls ‘love.’” Tyr pegged Brynn with a look that clearly signaled take it down a notch.

  Right. Because “love” was a perfectly common human endearment.

  “Well, he calls special girls ‘love,’” Mia corrected. Her giggle earned her an eye roll from her brother. “Sorry. But it’s true.”

  “Anyway.” Henrik diffused the tension with a wave of his hand. “Mia and I have been baking like crazy, so we hope you’re hungry. Welcome, kille.”

  “Thanks, man. Good to see you again.” Jason crossed the kitchen, skirting carefully around me and proving he wasn’t entirely daft. He high-fived Henrik, and wrapped Brynn in a tight hug. She squealed as her feet left the ground. “Hey, Brynn.”

  “I missed you!” Brynn beamed up at Jason. “When’s the pool tournament? I’ve so been looking forward to watching Tyr lose again.”

  “Hey,” Tyr warned. “I’ve been practicing.”

  “Not nearly enough, I’m sure.” Jason’s laughter filled the kitchen. “If I recall, my record is undefeated.”

  “Which is why I call you for my team,” Brynn declared. “Tyr, you can have Mia.”

  “What am I, chopped lutefisk?” Henrik frowned.

  “You and Freya can be a team,” Mia offered.

  “Aw, man.” Henrik groaned. “Freya’s mean at pool.”

  “I am not mean,” I countered. I ignored the flip in my stomach when Jason moved back to his spot at the island. It wasn’t like I could not notice the way his jeans hugged his butt. Or the way his biceps flexed against his T-shirt.

  I mean, I did have eyes.

  “Freya, please. Did you or did you not bench me the last time we were paired because I missed a shot?” Henrik raised an eyebrow. “And did you or did you not tell me I played pool like a little baby? In front of Brynn. I was trying to impress her!”

  “I—”

  “And didn’t you tell my sister her ‘magic rocks’ made better partners than I did?” Tyr raised one eyebrow.

  “Well, if you’d have—”

  “Now that I think about it, you did threaten me with two weeks of trash duty if I didn’t carry my weight when we played boys versus girls last month.” Brynn raised her shoulders in a shrug.

  “You did,” Mia agreed. She shot me a wink, and I realized that in their weird way, my friends were trying to make me feel better. With my attention focused on defending myself, I’d stopped swaying…and my headache had nearly gone.

  Bless.

  Jason’s gaze moved from Henrik to Brynn before settling on his sister. He raised one eyebrow, and at Mia’s tight nod, his lips curled up in a smile. “Well, this I have to see. When’s the first match?”

  “After lunch…and dessert. Go unpack, big brother. Tyr left your bag on your bed.” Mia turned to me with an innocent smile. “Freya, why don’t you show Jason to his room?”

  “Me?” Wouldn’t someone he’d met more than five minutes ago be a better choice?

  “We’ve put him in the downstairs guest room,” Mia offered helpfully.

  I looked to Tyr for help. My best friend gave me a helpless shrug. Jerk.

  “Fine. It’s this way.” I motioned for Jason to follow me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  When we were nearly to the front door, I pointed to the bedroom directly across from the living room—the one with the view of the front porch and the impressively sized en suite that Mia had occupied when Fenrir was on the loose, before my time in Helheim. That felt like forever ago.

  “You’re staying here.” I jabbed my thumb at the guest room.

  Jason crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “You don’t like me, do you?”

  “Why would you say that?” I mirrored his posture.

  “Just a feeling.” Jason winked. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll bring you around.”

  I raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “You think awfully highly of yourself.”

  “And you think you’ve got me all figured out.” Jason reached out a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Careful, Freya. I might surprise you.”

  And with a confident smile he slipped into the bedroom, shutting me out with a soft click. My jaw dropped as I blinked at the glossy white door. Jason’s ego surpassed anything I’d ever experienced—which said a lot, given I’d grown up with titled gods. But I was not letting him get under my skin. Not when, for the first time in more than a year, I finally felt like myself.

  I was Freya Skönsten, Goddess of Love and High Commander of Odin’s High Order of the Battle Goddesses, the Valkyries. And nothing, not even Midgard’s most arrogant mortal, was going to bring me down.

  Not when Ragnarok was upon us. Absolutely everything was on the line.

  **

  “Yellow ball, corner pocket.” Mia lined up her cue and bit down on her bottom lip.

  “You said that last time,” Tyr muttered. He’d removed his signature Henley so when he crossed his arms, his biceps popped against his T-shirt. Mia’s cheeks flushed at the movement.

  “Well, I mean it this time,” Mia declared. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and she took her shot. The yellow ball sailed neatly toward its destination before swerving at the last minute. “Arugh! I don’t understand. This defies physics.”

  “Does it?” Henrik raised one eyebrow.

  Mia’s knuckles tightened around her stick. “Henrik Andersson, is this your doing? Because so help me—”

  “Henrik’s not a wizard, Mees. He can’t move a ball from across the room. You just got really bad at pool. California making you soft?” Jason bumped Mia out of the way to line up his own shot.
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  “Oh, shut up, Jason.” Mia glared at her brother.

  I raised a questioning eyebrow at Henrik. Was he throwing Mia’s game? I wouldn’t have put it past him—he absolutely lived for getting a rise out of her. Mia had quickly become the sister he’d never had. Poor girl.

  “How’s your brother, Henrik?” I threw out the tension-breaking question. “Everything going well with him?”

  “Gunnar’s good. He and Inga are still over in Wales. Looks like they might extend their stay. Apparently, once Ull and his girl get back from—aw, man!” Henrik’s face fell as Jason sank his shot.

  “Woohoo!” Brynn held up her hand. Jason high-fived it.

  “That’s the game. Looks like my record’s undefeated again…unless you and Henrik can actually beat us this time.” Jason passed the cue to me while Brynn racked the balls. I tried very hard to ignore the buzz that shot up my arm when our fingertips touched. Obviously, my redirect had failed—I still hadn’t closed down my link to the connection between Jason and his Midgardian match, wherever she was.

  “Dream on.” I snatched the stick and bent low over the table. Mia bit down on her bottom lip, and I shot her an easy grin. “Don’t worry, Mia. Henrik and I will crush them. We call solids.”

  “Think you’ll cash in on our lucky streak, eh?” Jason chuckled as he walked along the space between me and the wall. His thigh brushed against my butt as he moved. If he thought he was going to flirt me out of my A game, he had another thing coming.

  “Nope.” With practiced calm I broke the rack, watching several balls roll easily into pockets. “I just happen to know Brynn hates stripes. The movement of patterns throws off her orderly brain. Okay, yellow ball, corner.” I lined up the cue and took my shot. “Skit.”

  “Freya.” Mia clucked her tongue as my ball bounced off the wall. “You’re better than that.”

  I was. But I also wasn’t used to playing with Mia’s brother in my space. Next time, I wasn’t taking a shot until I made sure Jason was on the other side of the pool table. Cheater.

  “It’s okay—we’ll get ’em on the next one. We all know Brynn can’t handle rolling stripes.” Henrik gave an encouraging nod.

  “Thanks,” I mouthed.

  “They’re distracting.” Brynn huffed as she took the cue from me. “Okay, red ball, center pocket.” She easily sank that shot, then missed her next. “Stupid stripes,” she muttered.

  “Let me show you how it’s done, sötnos.” Henrik quickly cleared the table of all but two solid balls, before passing the cue to Jason. “Record’s not looking so secure now, is it, kille?”

  “I’m not worried.” Jason shot me a disarming wink, his indigo–blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He sank two balls, and had just lined up to shoot a third when footsteps from the first floor made me look up.

  “Hei hei?” Elsa’s musical lilt rang down the stairs, filling the basement.

  “Maybe we should just go.” Forse’s baritone lacked its usual ease. “I don’t want to be a distraction. Now that my father’s gone, we have no way of knowing what’s next.”

  “Which is why you should let your friends be here for you while we can all still be together. You have those two crystals I gave you?”

  “In my pocket.”

  “Good. Hold them; they’ll keep you grounded. We’ll just stay for five minutes, and if it’s too much, I’ll make up an excuse to go home, no questions asked. Please?”

  “All right.” Forse’s voice cracked.

  No doubt it had taken unimaginable strength for him to leave the cottage—especially if he believed he had to be strong for our sake. It was so typically Forse—nobody did the “stiff upper lip” act better than Justice. But it wasn’t necessary—at least, not for us.

  I reached into my heart to send energy to my grief-stricken friend. My skin tingled as I discovered a small reserve of love waiting for me to share. It had been a long time since that well had been anything but dry. I channeled all I could draw to Forse, praying my ability had finally returned for good, even in this reduced capacity.

  “Poor Forse,” Brynn said. She, Henrik, Mia, and Tyr exchanged anxious looks. Nobody expected him to be up and about, much less paying a social call with Jason here. Keeping up appearances was part of the job, but a god could get a pass while mourning the loss of a parent.

  “Hei hei?” Elsa called out. “Where are you guys?”

  “They must still be at the airport. We can come back.” Forse sounded slightly relieved.

  “No, they’re here. Look. The cookies are out. Hello?” Elsa called again.

  Mia snapped to attention. “We’re down here! In the basement!” She turned her attention to us and whispered, “Everybody, act normal.”

  “Why wouldn’t we act normal?” Jason asked.

  “Because Forse just lost his dad,” Mia explained quietly.

  “Oh. Man.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “That’s rough.”

  He had no idea.

  “I’ll go get them.” Mia jogged up the stairs while Jason sank another shot. She returned moments later, a plate laden with cookies in her hands, and Elsa and Forse on her heels. Elsa’s long blond waves hung limply over one shoulder. She’d pulled the sleeves of her light blue cardigan over her palms, and now tugged at the hem with one hand while she guided Forse down the stairs with the other.

  “Hei everybody. Jason, it’s good to see you.” Elsa’s voice was steady, but as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she shot a worried look at the god who stepped into position beside her.

  “Hello,” Forse said soberly. He shoved his free hand into his pocket, no doubt clutching the crystals Elsa had given him. Oh, Forse.

  I channeled the last of my love reserve at him, hoping it would be enough to get him through this interaction.

  “Hey, Elsa. Forse.” Jason nodded at the justice god. He furrowed his brow and parted his lips, but a subtle headshake from his sister stopped whatever sentiment he’d been about to express.

  “Normal,” Mia mouthed.

  With a nod, Jason lined up his shot, missed, and swore. He gave a mock bow as he passed the cue to me. I snatched it from his hands, careful not to let our fingers touch. “If you sink those two, the championship’s yours, love.”

  “Why’s he calling her Love?” Elsa hissed.

  “It’s okay; he calls girls he likes that,” Brynn hissed back.

  “Shut up,” I gritted at everybody. “I am trying to focus.”

  “You can focus all you want. You’ll never sink them both.” Jason crossed his arms and leaned back so his denim-clad butt pressed against the table. Gods, he had an exquisite butt.

  Arugh! Subsidiaries, take this stupid connection already—mortals are not my job!

  “Freya can sink them both,” Brynn said confidently. “If she can keep her eyes on the ball.”

  Tyr’s snort fanned the flames of my annoyance.

  “Watch it, Fredriksen,” I warned.

  “She can’t sink them. Stripes block all conceivable shots. Unless Henrik really is a wizard, it looks like I’ll remain the all-time Arcata pool champion.” Jason shot me a wink. “But by all means, give it your best.”

  “Oh, I will,” I promised. My brows knitted together as I studied the table.

  Jason laughed.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “You’re too tense to pull this off.” He chuckled. “Are you always this uptight?”

  “Excuse me?” I balked at the same time as Brynn piped up, “She totally is.”

  “Shut up, Brynn,” I snapped.

  Brynn shrugged. “See?”

  “I am not uptight.” I glared first at Brynn, then at Jason. “And I don’t see what that has to do with me making these shots.”

  “Are you serious? It has everything to do with you making these shots.” Jason took a step closer, so only the corner of the table separated us. “Your shoulders are rigid, your jaw’s locked, and your knuckles are white. Tension like that’s bound to lead to a p
ull—no way can you hold your aim without some kind of slip. Now, if you need somebody to help you release some of that tension…”

  I didn’t realize I was leaning forward until my elbow buckled. My torso bent over the corner of the table, and I face-planted into Jason’s chest. Seriously?

  “Sorry,” I muttered, scrambling to right myself. Jason’s hands wrapped around my biceps, steadying me.

  The minute I regained my balance, I wrenched myself free. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tyr and Henrik double over in silent laughter. Brynn’s distinctive snort was even more obnoxious. And when I dared meet Jason’s eyes, his smile deepened and a dimple appeared on his right cheek. A dimple.

  Now the Norns—and their stupid, lazy subsidiaries—were just screwing with me.

  I snatched up the cue, shoved my thoughts into a deep pocket of mortification, and refocused on the game. Jason hadn’t been wrong about stripes blocking solids, but the added difficulty made my job harder—not impossible. I quickly worked out the best angle, and lined up my cue.

  “Blue ball, center,” I declared.

  “That’s what she sai—ouch!” Henrik winced at Brynn’s swift elbow.

  “Not a chance,” Jason countered.

  “Freya’s made more difficult shots,” Elsa offered helpfully.

  “Thank you, Elsa,” I said.

  I tuned all of them out, and zeroed in on the pocket. With a steadying breath, I relaxed my shoulders, released my clenched jaw, and took the shot. My ball followed the intended trajectory, bouncing off the far wall before dropping neatly into the center pocket.

  “Yes!” Henrik slapped me on the back. “Now do it again, woman.”

  A smile tugged at one corner of my mouth as I moved around the table to take my final shot.

  “Please beat my brother,” Mia begged. “He has the hugest head.”

  Tyr and Henrik practically fell into each other, their shoulders shaking with barely restrained hysteria.

  “Oh, grow up,” Elsa admonished.

  “She kind of set herself up.” Forse’s chuckle lightened my heart. If he could find the strength to smile given everything he’d gone through, then any humiliation I felt would be worth it.