Rules and Roses: Untouchable Book One

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Rules and Roses: Untouchable Book One Page 11

by Long, Heather


  Or maybe she was distracted. I had been.

  “Frankie?”

  “Yeah,” I said, shaking it off. “Fine, sorry, just sorting something out with Mom.”

  The look on his face said he didn’t believe me, but he waited for me to send her another message.

  Will do. We’re out of pretty much everything.

  But she didn’t respond. There weren’t even dots suggesting she was writing anything. Well, whoever he was, I hoped he treated her right. She was that distracted; it had to be a guy.

  A message popped up from Mathieu, and I cleared it before Archie could see it as he came back up to hook my arm with his. “Okay, new rule for Friday nights,” he told me as he gave me a gentle tug and got us moving toward the car. “No parent talk.”

  I laughed. “None at all?”

  “Well, if you want to talk about her, sure. I’ll listen. Edward and Muriel have given me vast experience in the realm of distance where parents and kids are concerned.” At his Ferrari, he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for me as he slid his sunglasses back into place. “But definitely not a requirement.”

  “You know…I don’t even know if I want to talk about her.”

  “I get that.” Though the sunglasses hid his warm, brown eyes, I didn’t have to see them to know they held a knowing kind of sympathy. “So, don’t have to. I’d much rather talk about something a lot more interesting.”

  “Such as?” I slid into his car and accepted my folders and notebook.

  Before closing the door, he grinned and said, “You and me, of course. We’re vastly more interesting.” The butter soft leather of the seats was warm against my legs, but thankfully not hot and the interior of the car smelled like leather, too.

  I stole a quick look at my phone, but I didn’t dare open the message from Mathieu just yet. Not when Archie would just lean over to take a look. He and the other guys were the reasons I hadn’t had a date in three years. They had apparently taken it upon themselves to make sure guys who looked at me twice didn’t look again. The fact Jake beat one up hadn’t been lost on me. No, I was keeping Mathieu to myself. I’d find time at the hibachi place. “You do know that it’s vaguely narcissistic to talk about ourselves.”

  “And gossipy to talk about everyone else,” Archie countered as he started the car. The a/c blew cool air almost immediately, but it was warmer in the car and the chills from earlier went away. He backed out of the spot smoothly. As we pulled away, I thought I caught sight of Coop leaning against the wall of the other apartment building, but the angle and shade didn’t give me a good look. “That said,” Archie continued. “Feel free to tell me all about Bubba, Jake, and Coop.”

  I snorted.

  “You spend more time with them than I do.”

  “Not true. Coop rides with you every day and he’s barely shown up at lunch this week.”

  “He came today,” I reminded him. “You know how it goes.” Was I defending Coop?

  “I know how he goes,” Archie said, his gaze on the cross traffic as he waited to pull out of the apartments. “I know he’s been blowing us off for his accidental girlfriend.”

  “You know, if you’re jealous,” I murmured. “You could call Patty. I heard a rumor homecoming tickets go on sale next week.” It seemed earlier and earlier every year, not that I cared. This time next year, I’d be at college. Sure, the sports culture would be there, but the year wouldn’t be demarcated by dances and social events.

  Or at least I hoped like hell it wasn’t.

  “No,” Archie retorted in a voice that was a cross between a snap and laugh.

  “You like Patty,” I pointed out. “You two were all over each other last year.”

  “Correction,” Archie said, then paused as he accelerated smoothly and shifted gears. The Ferrari had a sweet purr to her when she got going. Not that he could really open her up around here, but I kind of wished we could. “We were all over each other for exactly six days during which I discovered that intelligence and conversation mitigate sex appeal.”

  I frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “She’s stunning and relatively smart, but the girl and I have zero interests in common. I’d rather go to the dentist than go out with her again.”

  “Wow.” That was harsh. I shifted sideways to stare at him. “Archie…”

  “What? I didn’t say that to her face. I’m honest, but I try not to be an asshole.”

  I almost didn’t want to ask. “What did you say to her?”

  “Just… I had fun, but we weren’t clicking and thanks.”

  And… thanks. I opened my mouth, then closed my mouth and then bit my tongue. He’d thanked her. They were all over each other, practically climbing into each other’s clothes, and he signed out of the relationship with a thanks.

  “You know, it’s really not my business.” I folded my arms and focused on the road in front of us, but we were at a stoplight.

  “Frankie,” he said, his tone sobering. “I didn’t have sex with her and then blow her off.”

  That was not even where my mind went. Well, it did, but… “I didn’t say you did, but you were definitely copping feels, and you were definitely under the shirt.”

  “Yeah, and so was she,” he admitted without an ounce of shame or remorse. “Kind of happens when you date. Feels good.”

  Not that I would know. I pursed my lips.

  “Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “Please?”

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  The Ferrari leapt forward with a bit of a roar as the light changed.

  “You’re judging me. I get enough of that from my parents.” He sighed. “You’ve never judged me.”

  “Too be fair,” I said, my own conscience kicking in. “I’m not judging you precisely. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “You and the guys, you all date, go a little crazy—then it’s done, and you act like it’s nothing. And the girls…” I sucked on my lower lip. He said they dated for six days? Yet she’d been at Bubba’s party with Archie, right?

  “And the girls?”

  “The girls act like it was something. They get hung up on you—on all of you. Look at Coop.”

  “Coop and the tripping and the falling on her lips? Yeah, I’ll pass on looking at that one. I don’t kiss girls by accident. When I kiss someone, it’s because I wanted to, and she knows she’s been kissed.”

  Yeah, I bet she does. Archie could be a lot of fun; I imagined when he poured all that charm on someone, it would be amazing. “But that’s my point, Archie. You kissed Patty, and I’m pretty sure you meant it at the time.”

  He was driving farther than I expected, but he wasn’t speeding, so I didn’t ask. “I did mean it at the time, and then I didn’t. I didn’t want to kiss her anymore. I didn’t want to hang out. I didn’t want to talk to her eighty-nine times a day on the phone or text with her all the time. We weren’t really dating. We went out a couple of times, made out a couple of times…”

  “Did you get her off?” I had no idea why I was asking this. Morbid curiosity?

  “Well, it would have been rude if I didn’t,” he admitted. “Especially after she…” Suddenly, we swung into a parking lot, and he slotted the Ferrari neatly into a parking space. With it in park, he leaned his head back. “Yes, Frankie, I got her off. She got really enthusiastic and… it was a handjob more than a blowjob. It would have been rude to not at least return the favor, and I try not to be a user.” He wasn’t looking at me, he was staring at the building. “And, because I can practically hear you wondering, I gave it a couple of days after that. The more she texted me, the more I dreaded it, so I broke up with her.”

  “It was after Bubba’s birthday party.” That wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly then sighed. “So I’m the asshole who didn’t have sex with her.”

  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turned to sit sideways. “Archie you’re n
ot an asshole. If anyone in this car is one, I am.”

  He frowned and stared at me. “You’re not…”

  “I am… I didn’t even know you’d had your tonsils out. I totally missed that. I wasn’t there for you at the hospital, and I didn’t see you after.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, the confusion in his expression clearing. Tugging his sunglasses off, he stared at me. “You were busy this summer. It happens.”

  “I shouldn’t be too busy for my friends. Even my irritating ones who drive fancy cars—and me—nuts.”

  “I drive you nuts?” He grinned, seeming delighted by the idea.

  “Sometimes,” I admitted. “But I am sorry I wasn’t there, and I wasn’t…okay maybe I was judging about Patty a little. But the four of you have gone through a lot of girls the last couple of years. Some of them were my friends.”

  “Were.” It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded.

  “If they aren’t still your friends, they weren’t in the first place,” he pointed out. “I get it. We’re a bunch of possessive bastards, and we’re not giving you up for some girl.”

  I laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well,” he said, giving me a long look. “Maybe it’s what I meant.” He turned the engine off before climbing out. He circled the car, but I already had my door open. He blocked the door for a sec, studying me. “If one of our exes is giving you a hard time, you need to tell us.”

  “I didn’t say anyone was giving me a hard time.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he agreed with me, backing up a step so I could get out of the car. I slid my phone into the other back pocket before I followed him toward the door. “But I mean it. If someone is giving you a hard time because of us, you need to tell us. We’ll take care of it.”

  “Yeah okay, Big Archie. I think I can take care of myself.”

  “Agreed,” he told me with a broad grin. “But you don’t have to because you have us and we’ve got your back. No one is going to mess with you and, if they try, they’ll learn very quickly we don’t let that happen.”

  Inside, the dark ambience took a second to adjust to even if I’d had sunglasses on. “You do realize that sounds kind of menacing,” I warned him in a low voice.

  “Good,” he grunted, catching my hand as the hostess greeted us. “Two for one of the hibachi tables, and we’d like a private one.” He handed her a credit card and I sighed as she led us through the restaurant and around the various half walls to a hibachi table that could seat nine. She disappeared with his credit card as a waitress came by to offer us drinks and then gave us time to peruse the menu.

  “Why do you do that?” I glanced down at the menu, but most of my attention was on Archie.

  “Pay for privacy?” He shrugged. “Because I can. Because I have to share you all week long, if I’m lucky to hang out with you at all. And because you deserve to have someone look after you for a change. I managed to talk you into a Friday date, so I want to make the most of it. Is that okay with you?”

  And that was what I meant about his charm. “Would it matter if it wasn’t?”

  He took a long breath, then said, “Yes. I can tell her to seat us with others.” When he brushed his hand over mine, an awkward feeling slid through me. This felt more like a real date date than just a study date. “But it might make it awkward if we start grilling each other on vocab terms, too.”

  Reality check served.

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. Besides, we have to eat soon or we’re going to end up at the game starved.”

  “Tell you a secret,” Archie said after squeezing my hand then flipping open his own menu. “The guys won’t know if we’re there or not. As long as we know the score at the end of the game, we can be as late as we want.”

  Except—I would know I wasn’t there, and I didn’t want to lie to them. “Coop would know,” I pointed out.

  Archie made a face. “Yeah, yeah. Next week, Coop gets his own ride, and you and I get a proper dinner we don’t have to rush.”

  I hadn’t agreed to next week. Not yet. “We’ll see,” I said noncommittally.

  “About what?” he asked.

  “Maybe I’ll have a date, and I can find out if his interesting factor matches his hotness factor.”

  He frowned and opened his mouth but the waitress and then our chef arrived. After we placed our orders, he kept giving me the side-eye, but our chef was funny and entertaining. I’d seen the volcano trick with onions a dozen times, didn’t make it any less fun. And the guy could flip shrimp tails right into his hat, not one miss. The spinning eggs were also a fun act.

  Eventually, he’d done the fried rice and veggies, steak and shrimp for me, steak and scallops for Archie and our show was over leaving us with our food and our drinks.

  “Who exactly are you dating?” Archie asked, pinning me with a look.

  “Does it matter?” Yes, I’d tweaked him.

  “Yes, it does. You don’t date.”

  “I never said I didn’t date.”

  “I didn’t say you said you didn’t date, I said you don’t date. I’ve known you since week one of freshman year, Frankie. You don’t date guys and you don’t date girls. You barely notice when someone’s flirting with you. Who the hell are you dating?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Archie didn’t stop staring at me, so I had to say something. I went for the truth. “I’m not.”

  “You’re not?” He focused on me, studying my eyes like they might tell him something else.

  “No. I said maybe—you know, like Coop.” Then I smirked. “Maybe I’ll trip and fall on someone’s lips.”

  His answering scowl was not what I was going for at all. He went silent as we both took a couple of bites and when the silence dragged out, I sighed.

  “Archie…”

  “It’s fine,” he said, waving me off. “You were teasing me, I get it.”

  I was and I wasn’t, but…

  “Look, maybe we should go over some of this, so you’ll see the value in doing it regularly.” He tapped the folders and gave me a quick smile. “Don’t want you to think you could be out tripping somewhere instead of with me.”

  Yeah. Maybe I should let the whole dating issue go. Yet, there was a message waiting on my phone from a guy I was kind of excited about getting to know. Based on Archie’s reaction, I really needed to make sure they didn’t know about it.

  “Okay,” I said, playing along. “You wanna go first or me?”

  Chapter Nine

  Escape Room

  On Saturday night, Coop already sat on the steps to my apartment when I got home from work. I smelled like a combination of too many burgers, sweat, and some chocolate syrup I’d spilled earlier. The first Saturday following the first full week of school and Mason’s had been full all afternoon. Awesome tips, but brutal on the rest of me.

  Coop waved. “Your mom was heading out when I got here.”

  Hey, someone had seen my mom. Good to know I didn’t need to file a missing person’s report.

  “Yeah?” I kept it noncommittal. “Cool. I need a shower.” The guys would be there in thirty minutes. “So you can come in, but you gotta wait.”

  “No prob.” He followed me inside, leaning forward to sniff my hair when I dropped my keys on the counter. “Why do you smell like a cheeseburger?”

  “Ugh.” I pushed his face away with a light shove. “Because that’s all I served today. I think I’ve got grease in my pores.” If I never ate a burger again it would be too soon.

  “Maybe Mason’s should offer a new special,” Coop teased, opening the fridge and pulling out one of the last two cokes in there. He popped the top as he followed me back toward the bedroom. All the cats scattered as I dropped to sit on the bed and pulled off my shoes.

  Flopping behind me, Coop sprawled on his side. “Think about it, you could do a juicy chicken sandwich or something then it would be Chick and Thick.”

  I groaned.

  “I
think I’m on to something. Or maybe you just like it big and thick.”

  After throwing my socks in the dirty clothes and shoving my shoes under the bed, I flipped him off. “I’m going to shower. Get your shoes off my bed.” I bumped his legs and he sat up, then toed of his shoes with a smirk before relaxing back against the headboard.

  “Take your time.” He held up his phone at the same point Tiddles leapt onto the bed and strutted up to rub against his hand. “Me and my boy here will hold down the fort.”

  The black cat let out a little yowl before he bumped Coop’s hand again. Rolling my eyes at both of them, I dug out a clean pair of jeans and a tank top—then debated a t-shirt instead but the jeans were bad enough. I had a dark blue half-lace tank top that I’d picked up earlier in the summer and hadn’t had a reason to wear yet.

  “I like that,” Coop said when I pulled it out.

  With a snort, I held it up to myself then eyed him. “You can’t borrow it.”

  My turn to get the middle finger. I grinned before I got out clean panties and a bra, blocking his view of the drawer so I could avoid the comments.

  “Be back in a few.” My bathroom wasn’t an en suite. It was in the hall. A tidy, tight little room. The cat’s litter box was also in there, tucked into the cupboard under the sink. We’d unscrewed the doors on it years ago, and they were stored in Mom’s closet or mine. But the location meant I was particular about keeping the litter box clean, which I’d done that morning before work. Dumping the clean clothes on the counter, I studied my appearance in the mirror before turning on the shower to heat the water.

  I’d been courting a breakout earlier, but it looked like the zit hadn’t made an appearance. Ugh, good. I stripped out of my work clothes and left them in a heap and pulled my hair out of its bun. My scalp ached, but I used my nails—or what little I had of them—to massage some feeling back into it.

  The shower took me under ten minutes, including washing my hair because I had to get that hamburger smell off. I wouldn’t have time to flat iron it, but my curly hair wasn’t new to the guys. Out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my hair, then used a second to dry off.

 

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