That One Day (That One #1.5) (24 page)

Dave backed off and I could see Frankie again without his ass in the way. She fidgeted, her foot drawing circles in the air and her hand repeatedly pushing her hair behind her ear.

“You haven’t answered the question,” I said, curious to hear her answer. It’s not like their paths would usually cross.

“Ugh. I met him at a party last weekend.”

There was definitely more to it. She was withholding information and Dave noticed it, too.

“What party? Just spit it out.”

I leaned forward on the couch, my elbows resting on my knees.

She looked to the ground, biting her lip, and I had a feeling I wouldn't like her answer. “I went to Leo’s party.”

“Leo, the virginity hunter?” Dave and I asked.

“Yes, that Leo.”

“Why the fuck would you go to his party? Care to end up as a notch on his bedpost?” I asked. The idea of Leo’s hands on her nearly made me lose my damn composure.

“I was there to party, not to fuck—for God’s sake. What is this? Not like you guys get to talk.” She was getting louder with every word, clearly upset at our line of questioning.

“Oh, we’re nothing like Leo. We don’t need to get girls drunk to get in their pants and then boast about it on social media. Fuck, Frankie. That was stupid. Anything could have happened,” Dave explained, his voice laced with worry while I barely held back my anger.

Leo had graduated with us. Rich boy whose parents were barely ever home and who was used to getting what he wanted. He was an asshole who was known for legendary parties—drugs, sex, and alcohol.

“You’re only sixteen, Frankie. That’s not a place for you,” I added.

“Guys, I’m not stupid. I didn’t leave my drink standing around, I only drank water, and I was there with a friend. Can we drop it now?” She huffed.

“Fine, back to Drake,” Dave continued, earning himself another huff from Frankie. “Be careful, okay? He’s older than you and you’re my baby sister. I don’t want to go ballistic on his ass. He’s a nice enough guy.”

I looked back and forth between Frankie and Dave, outraged he was dropping the topic just like that—letting Frankie go out with Drake. Fuck that. And I couldn’t even do anything about it. If her brother was okay with it, it would have looked a little weird if I went all caveman on her.

Frankie’s lips pulled up into a small smile. “I’ll be careful, you dickwad.”

Dave threw the pillow back at her and laid back.

“Let’s catch some sleep before you tell us more shit that will force me into the role of overprotective brother despite the fact that I don’t give a damn about you.”

“Love you, too, you ass.” Frankie laughed. “Night, guys.”

I mumbled an incoherent version of “good night” while my brain went into overdrive thinking of all the ways to make Drake stay away from Frankie.

Shaking my head at the memory, I open the door to Frankie’s room quietly in case she’s already asleep, although I know better. Announcing myself might be a good idea. I don’t want her to freak out and shriek like a banshee, waking up Archer in the process.

“Babe, it’s just me. Don’t scream,” I whisper as I walk in and throw my blanket and pillow on the floor.

“Ben, what exactly are you doing?”

“Didn’t want you to spend all night looking for something lurking in the shadows, listening to any noise in the house, you little chickenshit.”

“And what exactly are you doing on the floor?”

“Well, we’re taking it slow, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but that still means you can lie down in my bed next to me.”

So I do, knowing that it will require some serious self-restraint to be this close to her and not touch her.

Dave and I are outside, playing football and ignoring the snow falling around us.

He arrived early this morning, probably waking up the whole neighborhood with his incessant and loud knocking. It’s a miracle he didn’t take down the damn door.

He throws the ball high and I have to lunge back to catch it.

“So you two are official now?” he asks, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm.

I think back to last night. Frankie and I talked—answering the questions that needed answering. I held her in my arms, relishing in the feel of her hand on my chest. The warmth that radiated from her body and her signature scent surrounding me made me feel at home. I feel like we’ve removed the remaining obstacles in our way. Now we’re able to go forward.

Throwing the ball back, I reply. “I guess so. But we decided to take it slow.”

His laugh comes out as a chortle. “I’d say eighteen months is slow enough.”

“You’re basically saying I should fuck your sister sooner, then?”

The ball thumps hard into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. “Damn, I don’t even want to consider you and my sister fucking.” He gags. “But for the sake of everyone in your vicinity, you two should get it over with. I’ve only been here a couple of hours and am choking on the damn sexual tension.”

After catching my breath, I throw the ball back to him, making him run on purpose as payback for his last throw.

“How long did you know about us?”

“About you two fucking in my parents’ house?” He raises his eyebrows. “Since I found Frankie on the couch that night. About you having the hots for my baby sister?” He pauses for extra effect, spinning the football on his finger with a smug grin on his face. “Since she went out on her first date and you sat there as if someone took a shit in your cereal.”

I’m baffled, my jaw dropping open as I stare at him. “How the fuck did you know?”

“Seriously, man? Even if I hadn’t had an idea when she went out for the first time, your reaction to her dating Drake gave it away. You looked like you were five seconds away from killing the guy.”

He throws the ball and I recover from the surprise just in time to catch it. “I thought I was all fucking stealthy and shit.”

Dave guffaws. “Dude, you had us following her around on her first date, all in the name of making sure she’s safe. As if Frankie was ever a damsel in distress.”

“Good thing I’m not a secret agent.”

“Fuck, man, you’d be done for. There was nothing secret about your feelings for Frankie.”

We head to the shed, shoving each other back and forth. “You okay with it? With me and your sister?”

“Hell, yeah. As long as I don’t have to see your pasty, naked ass in action, I don’t care what the two of you do.”

“What was the left hook for then?”

He gives me another shove. “She might not be a damsel in distress, but she’s still my little sister and you broke her bitchy, little heart. You had that one coming.”

“Fair enough. You still hit like a girl.” I duck to escape the left jab coming my way.

Once in the shed, I show him the pendant I made for Frankie.

Dave looks it over slowly, inspecting the craftsmanship before he asks.

“So what’s Viv’s deal?”

I smirk at him. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Fuck you, man.” Dave groans. “Is she single, seeing somebody, playing for the other team?”

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in her. She basically outplayed you earlier,” I say, referring to their verbal standoff this morning.

“What shall I say? I like a challenge.”

“Really? Since when? The chicks you used to pick up weren’t much of a challenge at all.”

“Maybe I’ve grown up in your absence, man.” He chuckles. “So will you spill or what?”

“She has a fuck buddy. She doesn’t play for the other team. That’s as much as I know. She doesn’t really wear her heart on her sleeve.”

“Well, I just might have to dig deeper then.” Dave grins, sure of himself. I, on the other hand, am not so sure he knows what he’s getting himself into. Viv isn’t one to put up with shit, even less so than Frankie.

“The only thing you’ll be digging is your grave.”

***

After we warmed up with some of Frankie’s homemade eggnog, we sit around the living room shooting the shit and talking about days gone by.

All the shit we were up to, parties we went to, and the girls we used to hook up with. It’s all fun and games while we talk about Dave’s conquests, but then he goes and ruins it all.

“Ben, you remember Melanie?”

“Which Melanie?” I ask because there are several options. What shall I say? I was a pig.

Frankie shoots a glare my way. “Seriously, there were so many Melanies that you have to ask which one? Ugh.”

I shrug, knowing no answer is going to win me any brownie points. Instead, I put my arm around her and pull her to me, ignoring her death stare.

“Melanie, the BJ queen. Back in the day you said you would never forget that talented mouth.” Dave is enjoying himself, well aware he’s getting Frankie all riled up and I’m the victim she’ll take it out on. I shoot him a look, but he just smirks.

I don’t have to wait long for Frankie’s reaction. “Ewwww, you seriously let Mel Jenkins anywhere near you? Really? Oh, that’s gross. She fucked her way through high school.” She scoots away, her face pulled into a disgusted frown.

“Well, if it makes it any better, I was one of the first ones.”

Dave groans, shaking his head at me.

“Oh, you’re disgusting.” Frankie shakes herself. “And I’m letting you touch me with those hands?”

I give her my best grin, the one that can melt panties in five seconds flat, but she just curls her lip up in disgust. “You’ll be bathing in acid before you come anywhere near me again.”

Turning to Dave, I’m about to strangle the idiot. “Was there a bigger purpose in asking me that other than making my life harder?”

His amusement is loud and clear in his voice when he answers. “Yeah, but this unexpected turn was way more fun.”

I flip him off, but he ignores me and continues, “Well, she’s pregnant. And you won’t believe who the daddy is?”

Frankie suddenly sits up straighter, the opportunity of some good old-fashioned gossip catching her interest. “Who?”

“Leo. He won’t be hunting virgins anytime soon.” Dave looks smug with the news, and thankfully Frankie seems to have forgotten her irritation with me for the moment.

Dave isn’t done yet with stirring shit up, though. Not sure if he has too much pent-up energy or hasn’t gotten laid in a while, but when he announces he not only brought gifts from their parents, but also a package for Frankie and Archer from Drake, I consider locking him out of the house. Curiosity gets the best of me though. I want to know what, and even more so why, that fucker is sending anything to Frankie.

I look at Frankie when I ask Dave, “Drake, the biker?”

“Yep, he told me to give her a Christmas present. Hold on, I’ll get them.”

What the fucking hell? Why is this stupid asshole sending her presents, sending my son presents?

I stare at Frankie, waiting for a reply, but she just keeps looking at Archer, only occasionally glancing my way.

“Drake, your ex?” I finally ask, wondering if they are still keeping in touch besides that stupid birthday message she left him. If so, I might break his fingers so he can’t text her.

She shrugs at me. “I guess so.”

Dave brings the box in and I watch as Frankie unpacks it, the need to know what’s inside nearly makes me jump out of my seat. I don’t want him sending Frankie gifts. It’s stupid, I know. But damn, he was the first one who got to touch her, got to be inside of her—as Dave and I learned overhearing one of her phone conversations back in the day. That alone makes me want to launch him into outer space. I can’t hold back the growl that’s trying to escape. It doesn’t get better when she pulls out a plush motorbike.

“Awww, he sent a toy for Archer. How sweet.” She stands up to walk over to Archer, but I grab the damn bike out of her hands. No fucking way in hell is my son going to play with something that dickhead got for him. Then again, why is he getting him something? Feelings of jealousy and doubts start to bubble up inside of me, no matter how unfair they might be. What if Frankie met up with him before our night? What if Archer—no, it can’t be. Archer looks like me. And Frankie isn’t the type. I’m an asshole for even thinking it.

“Why is Drake giving things to Archer?”

“Chill, Ben. I ran into him at the mall over Thanksgiving when I was out with Archer.”

“Do you still talk to him, babe?”

“Oh, you jealous?” Fuck yeah, I’m jealous. Especially remembering her birthday message to him. I glare at her, my jaw tight enough to make my teeth crumble.

“No, I hadn’t seen him in forever before the run-in at the mall. No reason to get your panties in a twist.”

Thank fuck. I breathe out, some of the tension leaving my body, ignoring Dave’s stupid remark about me forgetting to beat my chest and grunt.

Wondering what else is in the box, I sidestep Frankie and look into it. The tension that just left is back full-force, every muscle taut. Jealousy and fury are racing through my veins when I take out a bra. A fucking bra.

“What the fuck?” I look at Frankie who only shrugs at me before fishing a note out of the box. After a quick glance, she hands it to me.

I was cleaning out my house and found this. If I’m not mistaken, it’s yours. Thought you might want it back.

Red clouds my vision as I clench my fist and scrunch the note up in the process. “Fucker. I’m gonna hang him by the balls.”

I don’t care that they used to be together. This is my girl and the proof of him having seen her naked makes me want to do gruesome things to him.

“Dramatic much? It’s not my bra. You should leave the violence and bloodshed to the boyfriend of whoever’s bra this is.”

I blink a few times, allowing her words to reach my brain. Instantly, the wind is taken out of my sails. I throw the bra back in the box and fall back onto the couch.

“I don’t like the guy.”

“I know, babe. I know.” Frankie pats my thigh reassuringly, but I can see the way she presses her lips together, trying to hold back laughter. It’s not funny. This woman is making me stupid—I’ve never been jealous about anyone except her. It’s not a fun feeling and it makes me wonder how she handled it with all the girls I was parading around.

***

Everyone is already in bed when I lock the doors, turn off the TV, and head upstairs to Frankie’s room later that night. We haven’t really talked about sharing the room yet, but after all the talk about her ex and my conquests, I want to be close to her tonight. I want to show her she’s the only one on my mind.

The lamp on her nightstand is turned on. I look around and see Archer sleeping soundly in his crib, one of his hands holding onto the bars. For a second an image of him shaking the bars of his crib and yelling ‘Let me out’ comes to mind and I chuckle.

“What’s funny?”

I turn to Frankie. She’s all snuggled up in her comforter, only a hand holding a book peeking out.

“Right now you, looking like a little Eskimo hiding from the cold.”

She drops the book onto the floor and smiles. “Well, why don’t you get in here so I can cuddle up to you.”

“Oh, I can warm you up, alright.”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t get a chance to reply because I’ve already slid into bed next to her. Pulling her close, I press my lips to hers—hard and demanding. I barely let either of us come up for air, spurred on by her quiet moans, her ragged breath, and her fingers tangled in my hair pulling me closer. I don’t want to push her. She needs to be the one to decide when the moving slow thing is over and done with. She needs to know I want her no matter what. So I’ll ignore the hard-on for now. Ignore the fact that I want to be inside of her, to feel her fall apart around me.

Instead, I make it my mission to make her forget about Drake, about all the Melanies. To erase every touch, every kiss she shared with someone else from her memory.

And that is exactly what I do long past midnight, leaving both of us breathless and wanting more.