He pressed his hands to the side of his head, then dropped them as he straightened and faced me. “We’re fucking around with your life, and we shouldn’t be.”
Of all the things I thought he would say. That hadn’t even been on a back-up list.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, Archie had no business having sex with you. It means Jake should have kept it in his pants, but no, not Jake. He’s always got to push things, and not Archie because he always has to be first or grab what he wants. Doesn’t matter what it is.”
He touched his tongue to his teeth and took a couple of steps toward me.
“You have never dated. Not once. You have…fuck, Frankie, you’re our best friend, and we did our best to keep the rest of that crap from touching you. Liking you? That’s never been a problem. We all like you. Too much sometimes, but we do. And it was safe when you didn’t want us.”
I stared at him. “It’s not safe now that I do?”
“No,” he said simply. “You’re catching hell from girls we…girls we fucked over. Right, wrong, or indifferent, we did. Now they’re taking it out on you. Archie took you from zero to sixty.”
“Okay, you need to stop talking about me having sex with Archie like it’s something he did to me and I’m poor Penelope Pitstop who didn’t have a say. He gave me every opportunity to say no, not that it’s any of your business. And yes, I made out with Jake before that and I liked it. I made out with Coop, too. Right there on that sofa. When I had sex with Archie, I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I said yes. No one made me do anything—”
“Sweetheart, that’s my point. We know how to get girls to say yes,” he shouted, and then raised his hands and took a step back. “That’s what we do. That’s what we did all summer.”
My stomach bottomed out, and I stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Getting girls to say yes, it was a game. A game we could all do, and we got really good at it.” He dropped his head and then shook it. “And I’m not saying you’re the game, Frankie. Because God knows, you’re the fucking best prize there is. Sooner or later? You have to pick one of us, and I don’t know that you’ll ever be able to, and that’s going to tear you up. They need to think about that where you’re concerned, and not just about how good it feels to be wanted by you.”
Chapter Five
The Song Has No Title
“The prize,” I said slowly, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to smack him. “Did you just seriously call me the prize?”
“I know how it sounds,” Ian bit off the words, a grimace straining his expression. His beautiful blue eyes were sharp and pained.
“I don’t think you do.” Spinning on my heel, I headed for my bedroom. We’d come here for my suit, and apparently, so Ian could tell me I was too stupid to date.
Got it.
“Frankie,” he said with a sigh as he followed. “I’m not saying this to hurt you.”
“Could have fooled me.” I jerked open the drawer and shoved aside a wrap to pull out the two-piece I’d gotten. Ian stood a couple of feet in the door, but he’d stopped talking.
Instead, he stared at my bed briefly. The disheveled covers. Jake’s t-shirt was over the back of my desk chair. He hadn’t taken it with him, and I could probably use it to sleep in tonight if I wanted.
Pulling his attention from the bed, Ian focused on me. “I’m worried about you,” he said quietly.
“You don’t have to,” I promised him. “You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to ‘date’ or to put me in the position of having to ‘choose,’ particularly since you’re all masters at making girls say yes. You can have anyone you want. Apparently, I’m just the ditz who falls for every line.”
“That’s not what I said,” he challenged.
“No, that’s pretty much what you said and you implied.”
“Fuck,” he said, vehemence punching up the word. “Frankie, I don’t think you’re a ditz. I think you’re perfect.”
“Then why don’t you believe me?” And why were you pulling away? But the last question seemed glued to my tongue.
“I never said I didn’t believe you. I know…look, I know you agreed. But I also know them.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t make decisions for them. I can’t pull them back from what they’ve already done. I want you to be happy…”
“Weirdly, I was pretty happy Saturday morning, even after all the crap. Then you just left. You decided that I didn’t get to have any say in it. That I couldn’t be trusted with my own agency. Wow…it’s kind of don’t date Frankie all over again. Only instead of warning off other guys, you’re taking you away from me.”
“I must be shit at explaining this, because I’m not leaving you,” Ian insisted. “Am I trying to protect you? Yes. Do I think they pushed you too fast? Hell yes.”
“What’s too fast?” I asked.
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” I challenged, narrowing the gap between us. This was the guy who sent me recordings of him singing so I could go to sleep when I was crampy and hurting and stuck here with bad meatloaf. This was the same guy who gave me my first real kiss. This was Ian. “I don’t know what you mean. What’s too fast?”
“You wanted to date,” he said slowly.
“I’m aware of what I wanted. I was there.”
A faint smile quirked his lips. “Fair. We all want to date you.”
Well, that was some improvement. “Except now you don’t.”
“No, I do,” he insisted. “Maybe more than is fair to you. There’s a reason I want to take you to Homecoming. To make it a great night for you. It’s why I wanted to ask you. To give you that memory, but also to treat you right.”
All right, now I was confused. “You want to date me, but you don’t want to date me. I’m confused, which is it?”
Confused.
Irritated.
Irked.
Annoyed.
Vexed.
Pissed off was right around the corner.
“You deserve to be treated better…to be precious. To be given the opportunity to get to know us as more than just the guys who want to get in your pants.”
“I didn’t meet you five minutes ago. I didn’t go out with Archie on day one and have sex with him. Holy shit, Ian—where is all of this coming from?” Because this didn’t make sense. “You got mad at Archie because we had sex.”
“I know. You asked me why I hit him, and I told you he understood why.”
“But you still haven’t told me. Is it because of this game you used to play? Are you still playing this game?”
“No.”
“And I was never part of the game?”
“No. Never.”
“You don’t want to date me, because you want to treat me better than the game and what Archie, Jake, and Coop are doing…”
“You’ve had sex with Coop?” He jerked a little.
“Not that it’s any of your business at the moment, but no—we made out. He kisses me…a lot.” Some of the tension bled out of my shoulders. “He’s…he’s Coop. Just like you’re Ian. No one kisses me like him. No one kisses me like any of you.” I really didn’t know how to make this clearer to him. “Did I ever picture myself dating all of you? No. I could barely imagine dating one of you. I never realized you guys had a thing for me. I wasn’t making that up.”
Some of the tautness in his expression eased, and he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “I know you didn’t,” he promised. “I do know. The day you told us you wanted to date, that you were seeing Mathieu, and that you wanted those experiences—Frankie, that was a great day. Then you kissed me in the pool…and everything was so clear. You always got me. You got me on a level even the guys don’t always get me. You never forget my music.”
“I wouldn’t. That’s a part of you, and maybe I get you, but sometimes you confuse the hell out of me.” Like right now.
“Then I look at everything that’s h
appened since then…not just the guys, but the thing with Rachel and the flowers, the shit the girls are pulling, the secret notes, the fact that someone vandalized your car—and I won’t bring up your mom, but…”
“Yeah. You know a lot of that isn’t your fault.”
“Except I don’t think you’ve done anything to anyone to make them hate you like that. Even Sharon doesn’t hate you for anything other than I like you a hell of a lot more than I ever liked her.” He stroked his thumb over my cheekbone. The same one my mother had bruised. It had faded a lot, but it was still tender, or maybe the memory of it ached.
Leaning into the touch, I stepped forward. I still had my bikini fisted in my hand. “Ian…” I licked my lips. “What you guys did over the summer…how it affects the others, the girls you dated. I can’t control that. I can’t control their feelings. I can’t control anyone’s feelings except my own. Are things a little crazy right now? Yes. They are. But there are good things, too. Really good things.”
Studying him, I looked for some sign. He said he wanted to date me but not. He liked me more than the other girls. Hot. Cold. Yes. No.
“I’m not going to make this a thing,” I said finally. “If you don’t want to date me…”
“I do want you,” he said simply, like it should be crystal clear no matter what he kept telling me. “But that’s not what you need.”
“Why don’t you let me decide what I need?” Seriously.
“Because I care too much to let you tear yourself apart.”
Impossible. Stubborn. Sweetheart. Asshole.
The last two words crashed into each other. Assheart?
Sweethole? Yeah, maybe not that one.
A laugh burst out of me. Inappropriate? Probably. “It really is a good thing you’re pretty,” I told him, and then pushed up on my toes and kissed him. He gripped both of my biceps, but he didn’t push me away, and I didn’t press to deepen the kiss.
If he didn’t want to date, then I guess I had to understand.
Didn’t mean I had to take it lying down either. When his lips parted, I pulled back. Heat had already swept through me, and my lips tingled. His grip on my arms tightened for a beat.
“That’s one,” I told him.
“One what?”
“I’ll give you three more. If you’re still out after because you want out…then I’ll understand.” No, I wouldn’t. I’d be hurt. But I was a big girl. Dating was harder than I expected. Better than I expected. More terrible than I expected. “I won’t make decisions for you. I think I’ll even trust you to handle working so closely with Sharon and Patty. Since you can make them say yes so easily.”
He flinched on the last comment.
Did that make me bitchy?
“But we need to go. Because the guys are waiting.” My phone had started buzzing a few minutes earlier, but I’d been ignoring it. It took everything I had to paste on a smile. My mother did stuff like this. Blow hot and cold. The best thing to do was humor it until it passed.
He opened his mouth, but I didn’t wait for him to finish the thought. We needed to go. Because if we stayed here, I’d either end up crying or begging him to change his mind—and I absolutely refused to do either.
If he was telling me he needed out for him, I’d hate it, but I’d do my damnedest to understand. Having him tell me he wanted out because I was too stupid to make my own decisions stung a lot.
Outside, Jake and Coop stood next to Jake’s SUV, and Ian let out a sigh when he saw them. Honestly, so did I. Probably not for the same reasons. “Hey,” I said. Look at me smile. “You guys didn’t have to wait.”
Jake glanced from Ian to me, then back. “Sure we did. Wanted to make sure everything was all right. We good now?”
“Sure.” I still had my bikini in my hand. “Actually, I’m gonna put this in my backpack, okay?”
Coop frowned. Don’t ask, I mentally pleaded. Just don’t ask.
I glanced at my watch. It was later than I thought. “We should get going. Poor Archie is waiting.”
“Yeah,” Coop said slowly as he moved aside so I could open the backdoor. My backpack was on the seat, and I set the bikini on top of it.
Jake and Ian were staring at each other.
If I made this a thing, there was going to be a fight. I didn’t want them fighting. Being understanding sucked. Then again, I wasn’t the only stubborn person I knew. I got it, Ian wanted to do what he thought was best.
I didn’t like it. But I could pretend. Maybe he’d get it through his thick skull.
He had three more kisses to figure it out.
That was the deal I made with myself.
Done, I closed the door and gave Coop a pat on the shoulder. “I’m with Ian. Try to keep up.”
I tried not to let the surprise on Ian’s face when I said that get to me. He and Jake finally stopped staring at each other as Ian passed me the helmet. “You sure?”
“Do us both a favor,” I said quietly, and tugged the helmet on. “If I say it, I’m probably sure. So you don’t have to verify every statement in triplicate. Particularly when you’re going to decide what I need without consultation anyway.”
Definitely came out bitchy. His eyes shuttered, and then he tugged his own helmet on before throwing his leg over the bike. I waited until I had the strap in place before I climbed on behind him.
We really needed to go before my mother showed up. Wrapping my arms around Ian, I clasped them together over his abdomen. He touched my hands once. The clasping gesture settled some of the chaos bouncing in my system. As he accelerated toward the road, I was very aware of the yellow SUV following us. I was still in shorts. Maybe I should have changed into jeans, but I closed my eyes and focused on the breeze as we turned out.
For the first time, I was really glad the bike prevented us from talking. Not even the ride home from the party had felt this awkward.
What was I doing?
Was I being a real friend because I would rather preserve the relationship, even if it hurt to be rejected?
Was I being bitchy because I’d made some comments, and despite his protests, I didn’t really believe him?
Weren’t these the exact problems I’d feared when we started dating in the first place?
Around and around my thoughts raced. When Ian accelerated and the rush of warm wind hit my face, I sighed. There was a thrill on the back of this bike. I loved riding it.
Were we going to take the bike to Homecoming? The mental image of trying to climb on it in my dress and whatever heels I ended up getting—had I mentioned I wasn’t a fan of heels? But I’d get them. That dress needed the right kind of shoes, and Converse weren’t it.
Combat boots would be funny.
Oh—motorcycle boots. I bet I could pull that off.
Cheryl would have kittens. Rachel would laugh.
I didn’t think the guys would care.
I was still giggling when we turned into Archie’s driveway. The gate swung open. Someone had been watching for us, so we barely slowed before Ian skimmed around it. I was just climbing off the bike and still chortling to myself as Jake and Coop pulled up next to us.
Ian twisted to look at me while he shut off the bike. A grin twisted his lips. “What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about going to Homecoming on the bike.”
His eyebrows climbed.
“Not a chance in a hell,” Jake called as he slammed the driver’s side door.
“Yeah, Frankie,” Coop said as he opened the backdoor to grab my bikini and both of our backpacks. “That dress leaves you far too bare for the bike. Seriously, not a good idea.”
Ian glanced at them, then back at me as I shrugged. “I dunno. It would be different,” I told him. “Then I thought about heels, and that I wobble in them anyway, so I could do motorcycle boots. It would be cute, right?”
The skeptical looks I got from two of them made me laugh harder, but it was Coop who shook his head. “Nope. I saw you in that dress. I want to see
the rest of your legs. With the heels. It will be hot as hell.”
I rolled my eyes. “Buzzkill.”
“Not my fault you looked fantastic. Course, I liked you in that first one you put on, too.” He grinned. “We still need an excuse to go back and get that one.”
“Dream on,” I told him, and passed my helmet to Ian, who watched us with a bemused look before I grabbed my bikini and backpack.
“Oh,” Coop called as I headed for the front door. “I intend to.”
I’d barely lifted my hand to knock when Jeremy opened it. The man ran a tight ship, and he was actually one of my favorite people. “Hello, Miss Frankie. Mr. Coop. Do come in.”
“Hey, Jeremy,” I greeted him.
He smiled. “Mr. Archie is already out by the pool, he said for you to go up and use his room to change. The gentlemen can use the adjoining guest bedroom. Food is also waiting.”
“You’re the best.”
“I try.” He wore a fond smile. “If you’d like to give me your backpacks, I can take those out for you.”
Normally, I’d just hold onto mine ‘cause that seemed like an imposition, but I was going to dive into this afternoon and evening with the best mood I could muster.
“Thank you,” I said as I surrendered the backpack. It wasn’t until Coop and I were on the stairs though that I realized Jake and Ian weren’t right behind us.
“They’re coming,” Coop said, putting his hand at the small of my back.
“Please tell me they weren’t fighting.”
“I dunno,” he admitted as he nudged me along, and we headed up the stairs toward Archie’s wing. It didn’t matter that we’d been coming to this house for years. The size of it never failed to kind of awe me. Archie had his own wing, entertainment room, guest rooms, and even an office in addition to his bedroom.
I loved my space in the apartment, but it was contained to my bedroom. If I had all of this?
At Archie’s room, I paused at the open door to glance back at the stairs. Still no Ian or Jake.
“Hey,” Coop said softly, pulling my attention to him. “You really all right? You and Bubba talked?”
Keys and Kisses: Untouchable Book Three Page 7