Except Via hadn’t called back, which wasn’t like her at all. A flash of guilt went through her. Frankie had been so caught up in her own drama that she hadn’t really paid much attention to what her friend was up to. She sent her another text, this time to check Via was okay. Then she tucked her phone into her purse and went downstairs to wait.
xxxx
“Are you sure I shouldn’t go inside and say hello?” Jackson said as Frankie scrambled into his car. Despite how wet they’d been yesterday, the interior was dry and filled with an earthy cinnamon scent.
“Definitely not.” She shook her head and clipped on the seatbelt. She’d sent him a text asking him to wait in the car in case Lo and Johnny got any funny ideas into their heads. Then she groaned as they both appeared at the window, smiling and waving their hands with a practiced twist of their wrists. “Besides, they’ve come to us. Wave.”
“Er, sure.” He held up his hand and tilted his head. “Is this weird?”
“The part about my aunt and her fiancé pretending they’re in a presidential parade? Yes, very. Us going to Summerfest together? Well…I don’t think it’s weird. Do you?”
“Only every second,” he admitted as he gave Lo and Johnny one final nod and pulled away from the curb. “You look great, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a shy smile and clasped at her purse. Lo had insisted she take a cap, water bottle, and emergency cash. And okay, fine. There were also two tubes of lip gloss in case she lost one. Part of being a planner was always being prepared.
Even if she wasn’t quite sure what she was being prepared for.
Liar.
He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, though his hair wasn’t greased back, and the usual stubble was gone. He’d shaved. The now familiar scent of pine clung to him. Her heart hammered, and she dragged her gaze away from his hands as they rested on the steering wheel.
Okay. It was a little bit weird. But hopefully in a good way.
xxxx
“You sure your leg isn’t hurting?” Jackson double-checked as they joined the long line of people walking from the dirt parking lot through to the main gates. Summerfest was on a patch of the peninsula that had once been farmland. It had grown over time and there were two stages, as well as a catering village, and a few VIP hospitality tents. There was a mixture of people, from eight to eighty, all joining the line heading to the wire gates that had been set up around the perimeter.
“Now you’re sounding like Lo,” Frankie said as her rain boots squelched in the mud that had been left behind from yesterday’s rain. Her skirt covered the cut on her thigh, but still showed off her acres of legs. He swallowed.
“Just checking you’re ready for all the mosh pit action,” he said as they reached the front of the line. Their tickets were inspected along with their bags, and then they were given blue wristbands before being ushered in.
“Bring it on,” she said as a wave of drumbeats greeted them from one of the stages. Her eyes sparkled when it was followed by a thumping guitar. She tugged at his arm. “Let’s go explore.”
He nodded, and they headed toward the smaller of the stages where the sound was coming from. Adrenaline surged through him as they joined the crowd and the music flooded over them. Next to him, Frankie was already jumping up and down. Everyone around them was dancing. He wanted to move, but his limbs stayed still.
Being in crowds like this wasn’t his thing.
Frankie nudged him with her shoulder. Her hair tickled his face as she jumped. His discomfort lessened. What was it about her that made things seem possible? She nudged him a second time, and the music seeped into his limbs as he began to sway. Then he grinned and nudged her back.
After all, when in Rome…
Five hours later the Waves did their final encore and left the stage. The late afternoon sun was still pounding down as people continued to jump and scream. Frankie nodded to a grove of trees. Families and older folks had set up chairs and picnic rugs to enjoy the all-day music in comfort.
They squeezed their way through the crowd and stopped at a vendor to grab some bottled water and fries before tracking to the edge of the grove. It hadn’t been trampled by thousands of feet, and the grass was dry and mud-free.
Frankie dropped her purse and sat on it just to be sure. Her hair had long escaped the ponytail she usually wore and was hanging over her shoulder. Her cheeks were pink and lips full.
She seemed happy.
“That was amazing.” She took a gulp of water and leaned against the tree, her suntanned legs on display.
“Sure was,” he agreed, turning his face up to the sky. When he looked back, she was studying him. “Please don’t tell me you want to storm another stage?”
“I’m still recovering. But I was thinking that you’re great to hang out with,” she said.
“I’m glad I make a good substitute for Via,” he said. “Though I probably need to work a bit on checking out guys with you.”
“You think that’s all we do when we go out?” She arched an eyebrow, and he held up his hands.
“I retract that statement. I have no idea what you do.”
“Thank you,” she said in a prim voice before letting out a stifled gasp. “No way!”
He turned to follow her gaze. It was Aaron Tremain. He was walking over to one of the VIP tents with his arm looped over someone who definitely wasn’t Melissa. He really was having quite the summer. Once Aaron and his mystery girl disappeared, Jackson turned back to Frankie.
“You okay?”
She might say she was over Aaron, but that didn’t mean she was. Some of the adrenaline that had been charging through him faded away. Leaving him…disappointed?
“Better than Aaron’s about to be.” She glanced back to the tent where Melissa was storming in. Her hair flying out behind her. If it had been a cartoon, there would have been smoke coming out from her ears. “What was he thinking?”
Jackson was sure Aaron wasn’t thinking.
Or that he just assumed he’d get away with it.
“No idea.” He picked up a stick and broke it in half. “We can go if you want.”
“Go?” Her voice sharpened, like she was surprised. Then she let out a groan. “Oh…you think I’m freaked out by seeing him?”
“It might have crossed my mind,” he admitted.
Her cheeks reddened, and her mouth parted. Hell, she was gorgeous. His fingers twitched to sketch her. To catch the way she tilted her head when she listened to people speaking. How she toyed with her hair when she was uncertain. The curve of her mouth when she smiled.
“I honestly couldn’t care less about Aaron. I don’t think I ever did. I never really knew him. I mean, on paper he seemed great, but in reality, well…he was nothing like I thought. Turns out real crushes come when you know someone.”
His throat was dry, and the noise from the stage faded away to nothing.
What was she saying? That she had a crush on someone else?
Or am I just hearing what I want to hear?
Silence danced, and the space between them blurred.
Since he’d met her, there’d been a line between them. One that couldn’t be crossed. Shouldn’t be crossed. But he couldn’t remember why. And if it was meant to be there, why did it feel like if he moved, it would dissolve altogether?
He forced himself to remain still as his fingers curled around the satchel at his side. Last night he’d gone through some of his sketches of the Cauldron and picked one out as a thank-you present. Except who the hell gave thank-you presents? It was a stupid idea. One only an idiot would do.
Before he could stop himself, he unfastened the buckles and retrieved it. Then he caught his breath and handed it over.
“I…I thought you might like this.”
Apparently, I’m an idiot.
“You got me something?” She wrinkled her brow and took the piece of paper. Then color hit her cheeks, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.
Did that mean
she liked it? He shut his eyes, not sure he wanted to know the answer. He never showed his work to anyone. Never gave it to anyone. Because you’ve never met anyone who even gives a damn about it. Blood pounded in his temples. Had he just done the dumbest thing in his life?
He finally looked at her. She was carefully tracing her finger over it.
“Now who’s giving grand gestures?” she said, though the words seemed to catch in her throat. Like they weren’t said lightly.
The tension in his jaw eased. “It’s just a drawing. Hardly grand.”
“It is to me,” she said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “The reason I go there on my own is because it was my mom’s favorite place. She used to talk about it all the time and had a photo of it by her bed. It helps me remember her.”
Hell.
Guilt filled him. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. Nice work, Jackson.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shook her head and gave him a watery smile. “You didn’t. It’s one of the nicest things I’ve ever been given.”
“Oh.” He swallowed. He wasn’t even sure why he’d given it to her. Lie. It was because she seemed to feel the same things he did. But he hadn’t expected it would mean something to her. Not something like this. It was getting hard to breathe around here. “So…what was she like? I keep picturing someone like Lo but with blonder hair.”
She let out a wistful laugh. “She was nothing like her. My mom was older than Lo by a few years, but I guess she was the wild one of the family. She got into a bit of trouble when she was younger, but by the time I was little she’d sorted herself out and started working as a hairdresser. I guess she got her life together. Apart from her choice in guys.”
“Not good?”
“And some.” She bowed her head, still staring at his sketch. “She started dating this guy. Keith. He wasn’t very nice. He owed a lot of people a lot of money and had a reputation as—” She broke off, color hitting her cheeks.
“A bad boy?” Jackson said, and she nodded.
“Yeah. One day he cleared out my mom’s account and did a runner. It was hard after that, and it wasn’t until later that I discovered she’d been forced to cut our health insurance. Which was why she’d ignored the chest pains she was having. She just thought it was indigestion.”
Pain rippled over her face, and Jackson sucked in a breath. For the longest time it had just been him and his mom. And while things had been tough, at least she’d been there.
What could he even say to that?
Nothing. Because it wasn’t something that was fixable with words. Or anything. He reached for her hand and lightly touched her fingers. Heat zapped up his arm, and she jerked in response but didn’t take her hand away.
“Frankie. I’m sorry that happened. It sucks.”
“It really does,” she agreed before licking her lips and taking a shuddering breath. “That’s why I wasn’t that nice when we first met. It wasn’t really about you.”
“I get it,” he said as her fingers tightened around his. Strawberry and vanilla caught in his nose, shutting out the world around them.
“I know,” she said, and heat burst up in the space between them. Like someone had blasted the thermostat. “That’s why I like you so much.”
Her fingers were warm in his, sending little darts of fire all through him. She likes me?
He shifted. Tiny flecks of black danced in her blue eyes, and her mouth was soft. And suddenly he was sick of fighting his instincts.
His mouth brushed hers.
She let out a tiny sigh, and her lips parted as his other hand found hers. Her skin was soft and warm. Longing ran through his veins as he deepened the kiss. When she pulled away, her entire face was flushed, and her mouth was swollen.
“I should tell guys I like them more often,” she said, her hands still in his. Her fingers were slim, long, and brown, with slight calluses from working in Rosie for the last two weeks. He swallowed.
“Frankie—” he started to say, but she shook her head.
“It’s okay. I know you don’t date. And I’m not trying to make you change your mind. I just, well…I guess I just wanted to have the perfect first kiss, and I did.”
It was her first kiss?
Of course. That’s why she’d been planning everything with Aaron so carefully. To make it just right. Probably nowhere in her plans was to start crying over her dead mom. Before kissing me.
But she said it was perfect.
“You know what’s better than a first kiss?” The words came out a growl.
“What?” She hitched in her breath, and he leaned in. She was smiling, and their noses touched. It made her giggle, and she inched closer to him as she returned the kiss. “Good call,” she managed to say when she pulled away.
“I thought so,” he murmured as he disengaged his hand and began to trace patterns up her arm. “About the dating thing. Could we just forget I ever said that?”
“W-what do you mean?” she croaked.
“I mean I’d like to take you out sometime.”
“You would?”
“I would,” he said, heart pounding in his ears. “We could go bowling. Unless you don’t like bowling.”
“I love bowling,” she said, inching closer to him. His arms wrapped around her, and his mouth found hers. This time when they broke away, she pressed her head into his chest, as if checking for a heartbeat. It was like she belonged there. Then she peered up, the dimple appearing. “Which, by the way, is me saying yes. I’d like to go on a date with you, Jackson Lang.”
“Okay, then,” he said, not daring to move. Heat jumped between them, and he let out a ragged breath. Had that really just happened? But he didn’t need to guess. She shifted next to him, and her hair tickled his nose. Then he looked up toward the sky and grinned.
He’d asked her out.
And more to the point, she’d said yes.
9
“I should have paid more attention when you said you loved bowling,” Jackson said the following night as they handed their shoes back at the counter. “You just wiped the floor with me.”
Yeah, she had.
“Did I forget to mention that Johnny’s been teaching me for the last two years? How weird that it slipped my mind.”
“As a matter of fact, you did forget to mention it,” he agreed.
“My bad,” she said as a group of people walked past. He protectively put his arm around her shoulders, and her stomach fluttered.
She wasn’t going to get sick of this in a hurry.
Not any of it. It still hadn’t sunk in they were out together on a date.
What was even more surreal was just how normal it had been during the day at work. Like there had been a rule in her pink-and-white binder saying whatever was happening between them was strictly after-hours. They were both there to do a job. No kissing in Rosie.
It had made her like him even more.
“You look real sorry,” he said, not moving his arm even after the group had gone.
“I have to have some talents,” she said. “It’s not like I can compete with your mad drawing skills. And when you’re a famous artist I can brag that I beat you.”
“Not sure that will impress many people,” he said in a light voice and then quickly glanced away, as if he wanted to change the subject. She wasn’t surprised. He was so modest when it came to his work. Like he didn’t realize how brilliant he was. “Want to grab something to eat?”
“Sure.” She wasn’t particularly hungry but didn’t really care what they did as long as it didn’t involve saying goodnight. “Should we stay here or go somewhere in town?”
“Last time I came here with Chelsea the burgers tasted like someone’s old shoe. We could try that place down by the square,” he said just as Frankie’s phone blasted out with a Lorde song.
Via’s ringtone.
Finally.
Unlike most of the kids at school, Jackson didn’t permanently have his
nose in a phone. She wasn’t even sure if he was on social media, so she’d kept her phone in her purse, determined not to use it.
But the fact she hadn’t heard from her friend was weird bordering on spooky.
“Would you hate me if I quickly take this call? Via’s been off the radar for twenty-four hours. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Sure that’s not really a rescue code to get you away from the guy who just had his ass handed to him?” There was a lightness to his voice she’d never heard before, and her heart pounded some more.
He was so different from her first impression.
Just went to show what a mistake it had been to judge a book by its cover.
She inwardly groaned at the bad cliché. Lucky he couldn’t read her mind.
“Definitely no code.” She reached out and lightly touched his hand. Fireworks darted up her arm. “I promise.”
He grinned and touched his heart before nodding over to the door. “Take your call. I’ll be outside.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice breathy. She waited until he disappeared before dropping into one of the empty seats that ran along the wall.
“Via, where have you been? I almost thought you were ghosting me,” Frankie said two seconds later. She’d left her friend yet another garbled message this morning, trying to explain what had happened at the concert yesterday.
“I don’t check my phone for one lousy day, and you go to Summerfest with Jackson Lang? And kiss him?” Via squealed in reply.
“Yes to all the above.” She filled in all the details about what had happened. Including her bowling victory. “I still have to pinch myself.”
“And I still have to do my victory lap. I told you he was hot.”
Frankie wrinkled her nose. “Okay, you were right. I can’t wait until you’re home. You’ll really like him.”
“I already do,” Via said. “And that drawing he gave you? It’s so romantic.”
“I know.” Frankie let out another happy sigh. Along with last night’s voice message, she’d sent Via a photo of the sketch of the Cauldron. “If I could draw like that, I’d be telling the world.”
How to Kiss a Bad Boy Page 10