Despite swearing off athletes for good, Freya Pfieffer can't help but fall for the sweet and perfectly endearing defenseman who meets her gaze at a Montreal Canadiens game. Freya is left spinning-wondering if she should make an exception for Cole Ca...
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freyzygorl69 on instagram: mood for the evening is @urmommyjess w/ strawb
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thepiedpfieffer: tell jess i say whats up 😮💨
↪freyzygorl69: ew touch grass perv
↪ ↪ urmommyjess: im nicer than your sister i promise mac!
urmommyjess: I SENT THIS SO YOU COULD SEE THE SIZE ONLY. WHY POST
↪tateisgr8: she's out for blood after today's events
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Cole shot upwards in his hotel bed, eyes wide. Two days have passed since the night at the bar with Freya. He hasn't stopped thinking about it. Then when all of his friends told him they had followed her on instagram, he was ready to hunt down each of them one by one.
But when Freya's messages appear at the top of his screen as he plays idly on his phone, his annoyance is replaced with sudden hope. Maybe she found him because of them.
Cole looks to the bed beside him, where Nick is snoring loudly, even with the lights still on. The guy has a knack for falling asleep anywhere and any time. The game isn't until late tomorrow—plus they're in Seattle so several hours back—but Nick still insisted on getting to bed extra early.
Panicking, Cole scrambles to respond to Freya's messages; after all, it's almost midnight back home. First, he follows Freya's spam account with his own, then follows her real account with his, replying as quickly as he can to her last message. There's no time to text his friends for advice, though he briefly considers waking Nick up.
He decides against it, though, opting instead to tread lightly on his own.
