Rules and Roses: Untouchable Book One

by Long, Heather

  My work ethic wanted to argue that point, but it was his birthday the next day. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Together, we got everything out and then Mathieu wanted me to practice my intro. He corrected my pronunciations a couple of times, but always in good cheer. I kind of wanted to go check my appearance, but he insisted I looked wonderful and that I glowed. Kind of hard to ignore those kinds of compliments. The next two hours flew by as I discussed opera cake and why I wanted to try it and the multiple layers that it required from the sponge cake to the croustillant to the chocolate ganache and coffee buttercream. Each layer took some very specific steps to create. We’d get one done, then move to the next.

  Coffee syrup was weird to make—it was basically water, sugar and instant coffee brought to a boil in a saucepan. Mathieu’s mood elevated with each step and there was an eagerness in him that was contagious. The ganache and the buttercream led to more than one mess that he caught on video and I laughed as I pointed out the small flaws in French. It wasn’t until that video segment was done that he cleaned the bit of ganache from the tip of my nose.

  “It was adorable,” he insisted. “Don’t re-record, trust me.”

  Rolling my eyes, I agreed. Despite all the various layers, I cleaned as I went—the dishwasher would be fully loaded and the kitchen smelled divine. But it wasn’t until we were putting the layers together that I began to think I was going to pull this off.

  It had been a blast. Mathieu, as it turned out, was not only easy on the eyes and a lot of fun, he was also very patient as we worked our way through the dessert. Compared to the night before, the evening had been a dream come true. As we put the last layer into place, I lifted my hands at the end in a dance of delight—all on video but who cared? I did it.

  It looked perfect.

  “Now it must be chilled and the last of the glaze goes on in an hour.” Mathieu beamed at me. “This has been a most wonderful birthday. It smells like home here.”

  I couldn’t imagine spending my birthday this far away from my home, but then again… maybe I could. We set it up in the fridge then took care of cleaning up the rest. Mathieu and I sampled some of the remains of the layers and the coffee buttercream was to die for. In fact, I insisted on letting him finish it with some of the remaining sponge cake, which he did with great relish.

  Once everything was cleaned up, we reviewed the video and I was surprised by just how relaxed I appeared. I’d been nervous about the whole thing, but I’d spent most of those “videoed” moments talking to him rather than the camera.

  “You are happy with my direction?”

  “I love it, thank you for doing this.”

  “Your dish will be the best,” he told me in all confidence.

  I went to grab my laptop and offered him a soda. We moved out to the sofa in the living room and I introduced him to some of my favorite YouTube channels. He wasn’t a history nerd like me and Jake, or into music like Bubba, or even the DIY videos and robotics like Archie, but he did like the architectural videos. He even pulled up a few of “home oddities” in France of places that were just too strange not to be real—like a huge windmill home that had been converted to all these different levels for one person. It was so tiny, yet so perfectly done.

  At ten, my timer went off and we abandoned sitting side by side to retrieve the opera cake. We added the chocolate glaze then I cut off a section while he recorded me as I completed my bit about making the opera cake, because dessert was a kind of home away from home.

  He applauded and blew me a chef’s kiss before we set the plate on the table between us. With a fork each, we cut into the opposite ends and took the first bites.

  It was…divine. I might have moaned at the flavor, but the look of pure ecstasy on Mathieu’s face just made my whole night. He leaned over and cupped my face then pressed a kiss to each cheek before he leaned away.

  “Vraiment merveilleux. Je vous remercie. ”

  I don’t know what summoned the blush harder, the fact he’d kissed me or that he’d seemed so overwhelmed by the dessert. It was getting late, so I offered to give him a ride home rather than bother his host family. He didn’t want to drag me out, but I kind of wanted more time with him. I also insisted that he take the dessert for his birthday, but he tried to refuse.

  I would have to make another one anyway, and that was what finally convinced him, though he did slice off a third of it and told me that I had to keep it.

  As he explained, I could eat it on Monday in his honor, so we could still share his birthday together even if we were both occupied.

  Once we had the cake boxed up and the Tupperware returned to the bag, I went to grab my keys and wallet. In flip-flops, I let us out the back door and locked it up. When Mathieu took my hand, I got another little flutter moment, but it had nothing on the stomach dropping sensation when I caught sight of Coop just as we got to the car.

  He was wandering down the sidewalk like he was coming back from the store on the corner. “Hey, Frankie,” he said by way of greeting, but it wasn’t me he was looking at.

  “Hey Coop—Coop Brennan. This Mathieu Domienier.”

  “Hey,” Coop said, still staring at the guy. No. Not at Mathieu. At the fact Mathieu held my hand. I almost let go but instead I gripped it a little tighter. I was allowed to date. “It’s late, isn’t it?”

  “Francesca is giving me a ride home.” Okay. He hadn’t really used my whole name that evening, but wow it sounded both weird and hot when he did it.

  “Don’t have a car?” A hint of insult rolled in those words.

  “No, he doesn’t. Like a few of my friends,” I told him. Hopefully he got the back off vibe. “Anyway, we need to go.” I unlocked the car and Mathieu had to let me go to circle around to the driver’s seat.

  “Is it far?” Coop asked.

  “Is what far?”

  “About fifteen minutes, I believe,” Mathieu answered. “I am staying with the Wheelers.”

  “That’s over at Lakeside, right?”

  “Probably,” I told Coop. “It’s fine, I’ve driven at night before.”

  “Yeah, but it is getting late. I can ride with you so you’re not coming back on your own.”

  Seriously? I stared Coop. “I’ll be fine.”

  Not waiting for his answer, I waved Mathieu into the car and then slid into the driver’s seat. As I started the engine and turned on the headlights, I caught Coop frowning at us. I waved and then backed out. My last glance of Coop was him on his phone.

  Mathieu had given me the address, so I just let the phone’s GPS tell me where to go.

  “Maybe you should have let your boyfriend come,” he said, and I was glad I’d always been a cautious driver because the comment surprised me.

  “Coop’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend, probably my best friend most days. Not today, but most days.”

  “Hmm…” The noncommittal sound irked me. “I know when I make another man jealous.”

  I snorted. “If he knew I made you dessert, that would make him jealous.”

  Another hmm and I had to resist the urge to snap. “Look, Coop is Coop. It doesn’t mean anything. And I’m really glad you came over tonight.”

  “As am I.” Then another block passed before he said, “I would like to see you again.”

  Really? We were doing this now and not later? Didn’t guys usually wait until a couple of days after a date to ask for another date? Or maybe it was a French thing? Despite the chaotic toss of thoughts, I managed to say, “I’d like that.”

  “Good,” he said, his smile clear in the word. “Are Sundays better nights for you?”

  “There’s a party next Saturday…” My stomach knotted but I pressed on. “Friends of mine are having a back to school bash. It’s gonna be a lot of high school seniors, swimming pool, music—probably some illegal drinking.”

  He chuckled. “I would love to go with you, Francesca.”

  Thrilled didn’t begin to cover it. All too soon we were at the
Wheelers’ place and Mathieu turned in his seat. “You are sure your boyfriends will not mind if I take you to the party?”

  “I don’t have boyfriends,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if they’re okay with it. I’m okay with it, and I had a really good time tonight.” Better than I could have imagined if he would stop bringing up the guys.

  “Let me know if I should bring anything…”

  “I’ll pick you up. I’ll let you know what time later this week?”

  “I look forward to it. Au revoir.” This time, he pressed a kiss to my lips—a gentle one, just a brush, but an honest to God kiss.

  “Au revoir.”

  I sat there in the car, watching him walk up to the front door like an idiot, but I didn’t want to miss a minute of it. Once he was inside, I had to restrain myself from doing a crazy dance in the seat.

  I kind of wanted to hope on the phone and text—the guys and tell them how awesome this had been but…

  Yeah. No.

  Waving my hand at my face to cool it, I got myself together. The drive home was spent humming along with the radio. First date. Great dessert. Perfect guy.

  Real kiss.

  I was about delirious when I pulled back into my spot and even giggled as I locked the car and headed for my door. How was I ever going to get to sleep tonight?

  Not even Coop sitting on my back steps could diminish my mood. “Did you get lost?” I teased. “Or forget your keys?”

  He’d done that before.

  “Nope,” he said, standing as I strolled up. “Just wanted to make sure you got back safe after you dropped off Frenchy.”

  “Mathieu,” I corrected him lightly. Coop was right behind me as I unlocked the door.

  “Whatever,” he said. “Your mom wasn’t home tonight?”

  “Nope,” I said and actually grinned about it. Mom still wasn’t home and, based on all earlier observations, I was going to bet she was shacked up with the boyfriend somewhere. Gross but, hey, if Mom was happy…? “She’s got a boyfriend.”

  I hadn’t actually said it aloud before. It sounded weird.

  Coop frowned. “Is that why she’s been gone a lot?”

  It really had been a lot if Coop had noticed. “Yeah, I guess. I haven’t seen her much.” The kitchen still smelled like opera cake, and I swore I could smell some of Mathieu’s cologne—or maybe that was just on me. I couldn’t sniff my shirt without getting a weird look, so I skipped that. The cats strolled out of their various cubbies, all of them complaining. They’d stayed scarce while Mathieu had been there.

  “Something smells great,” Coop commented as I opened the cans of food and gave the cats their dinner, albeit a little late. “You guys eat dinner here or something?”

  “Yes, we did,” I told him. “Made dessert, too. Something for French class.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced around, but the rest of the opera cake was in the fridge.

  “Want to try it?” I relented.

  “Is it good?” He squinted at me, and I rolled my eyes. After I tossed the empty can, I got the cake out and sectioned off a slice. Coop let out a little sigh. “Okay that is definitely the source of the wondrous smell.”

  One small slice and a fork later and Coop groaned. “You guys made this?”

  “I did,” I told him proudly. “It’s Mathieu’s favorite, so he offered to give me some pointers and we had a lot of fun.”

  His rapturous expression gave way to a frown as he studied me.

  “What?”

  “Was tonight a date?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I hope so?” I was dying to talk to someone about it.

  “So it was a maybe date? Like a date date or a study date?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  With a long exhale, Coop nodded. “It’s what you wanted to do right? Talk about your dates?”

  A grin spread across my face, and I bounced over and hugged him. Coop caught an arm around me and squeezed me back. “Yes, yes, I did and thank you.” I danced back and then clapped my hands. Giddy, I was giddy. “He’s a foreign exchange student, and he’s amazing. He’s funny and sweet and really nice. He brought dinner over with him tonight, and he helped me lay everything out and did the video for me while I put it together… It was… it was fun. Then while it was chilling, we watched videos and… it was just good.”

  Coop nodded slowly. “You’re happy?”

  “Yeah,” I told him, squirming a little. It was kind of embarrassing. I didn’t do this giddy girl thing. I’d never really gotten to do it. “I had a lot of fun.” And he kissed me was on the tip of my tongue, but I kept that part to myself.

  “Okay,” Coop said.

  “That’s it?” I raised my brows, but he shrugged.

  “Okay. You had a date. You had to drive him home, and he didn’t take you out or anything, but it was a date and you’re happy. So…”

  “So?”

  He sighed. “Is that it? One and done or…?”

  “I invited him to the party on Saturday,” I told him. “He said he wanted to take me out again and—the schedule is crazy, but there’s the party.”

  “The party. That’s awesome.” He did not sound enthused.

  “And on that note, go home Coop. I need to get ready for bed and I’m tired.” My mood was too good to let him spoil it.

  Catching my arm, he tugged me back and seemed to search my face. “You like this guy, Frankie?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know. He’s—yeah, I like him. I liked how it felt.”

  A slow nod, but Coop wore this unreadable expression. “We still on after school tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, you talked to the guys?”

  “Uh huh,” he said. He tugged my hair once. “Lock the door behind me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night, Coop.”

  “Night.”

  I leaned against the door after he left and let out a breath. I’d actually been more nervous about Coop’s reaction than I had Mathieu’s kiss. And the French guy was definitely out of the bag. Coop did not keep secrets well.

  My phone buzzed, so I pulled it out.

  Dessert Options: You got home safe?

  I grinned. There were a bunch of other messages. Crap. The guys. I’d muted them. I’d fix that in a minute.

  Yes, I did. I had a really good time.

  Dessert Options: As did I. Good night, Francesca.

  Head back, I closed my eyes.

  Nope. I’d look at the guys’ messages in the morning. I was in a good mood, and I planned on sticking to it.

  News Flash

  Archie: Who was she with?

  Jake: What do you mean she was with some guy?

  It’s like 10:30 at night.

  Bubba: Coop? Dude, you don’t drop a bomb like

  you found Frankie with a guy at her place

  and then just stop. Who is the guy?

  Archie: Are either of you close to their places?

  Bubba: No. Give him a minute.

  Jake: If he doesn’t answer by the time my shoes are on…

  Coop: Some guy named Matthew. French.

  He came over to make dessert. She’s back…it was a date.

  Bubba: …

  Jake: …

  Archie: Who the fuck is Matthew?

  Coop: Guy from her French class.

  They made a dessert. He was at her place for a few hours.

  Definitely a date and she’s…

  Bubba: She’s what?

  Jake: She’s all right, isn’t she? Do you guys know him?

  Archie: Never heard of him. I’ll find out soon enough.

  Coop: She’s happy. Leave him alone.

  Jake: …

  Archie: …

  Bubba: Explain?

  Coop: You heard her. She wants to date.

  She was really happy tonight, so leave the guy alone.

  Archie: She’s our Frankie. I don’t know who this jerk is…

  Jake: What if he’s a perv?

  Bubba: I asked
her out.

  Archie: …

  Jake: …

  Coop: …

  Bubba: Figure I should tell you. Saw her at work earlier.

  She told me she wants to date.

  Wants to do all the things we’ve done.

  Wants to go to dances. I asked her to homecoming.

  Archie: …

  Jake: …

  Coop: Did she say yes?

  Chapter Twelve

  Manic Monday

  Monday was off to a really weird start. Coop and I got to school with plenty of time for coffee, but Archie was a no show. Bubba and Jake ran late at practice, so I just hung out with Coop and played games on our phones. Archie wasn’t in Government first period, either. When the teacher wasn’t looking in my direction, I sent him a text. I had earlier—when I got up. Including answering his question about whether or not I’d really had a date on Sunday, which came in about fifteen minutes after Coop left.

  Coop was a damn gossip, so no way he hadn’t ratted me out. There was no answer to my texts, so I sent another.

  Missing you in gov. Will get your hw. Hope all is okay.

  By the time the bell rang, the message was still unread. Bubba caught me three steps out of the door. “Hey,” he said, panting a little. Had he run all the way down here from his class? AP Calculus was upstairs, not far from his first period.

  “Hey,” I said with a grin. “Didn’t get enough running in practice?”

  “Yeah, I got plenty, but Coach went over because we had to go over the game from Friday.”

  “Go over what? Didn’t you guys win?” I had my fingers tucked into the straps of my backpack as we walked side by side up the steps. The fun part of walking up the stairs with Bubba was I didn’t have to play dodge with other kids. They just got out of his way.