Whispers and Wishes (Untouchable Book 4)

by Heather Long

  “Coach, do you want us in the game?” It was my turn to ask.

  “Yes,” he said. “But only if you’re going to give it your all. That means working with Jackson and Shawn, whether you like them or not.”

  It wasn’t just about liking them.

  “We’ll do our parts,” Jake said. “We’ve always played our best.”

  But that wasn’t a promise to work with them, and I couldn’t make it either. Not as long as they held onto that attitude about Mitch. For all we knew, they were in on it, too.

  “Play tomorrow night,” Coach said slowly. “If you want to walk away after that, I’ll make sure you get credit for the full season.”

  It was better than nothing, I supposed. He wasn’t offering to get rid of the other guys, but then Coach didn’t have a reason to get rid of them at the moment.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jake said. We all shook on it, then Jake and I headed out. Neither of us said anything. The parking lot was nearly empty, which gave me a good view of my bike lying on its side.

  Fuck.

  Jake saw it a beat after me, because he let out a low whistle. Still silent, we stalked across the empty lot. The side mirrors were smashed. The front tire kickstand had broken right off, and one of the brake grips dangled—it had been cut.

  We got it upright, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t ride it in this condition. The front and back tires were both flat.

  “Fuckers.”

  “Yeah, we don’t know it’s them,” I said, not that I had any doubts. Who else had this kind of beef with me? Mitch, maybe, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t been back on campus since the cops followed him to the hospital. He’d also been arrested. Beyond that, details had been sketchy.

  “We don’t know, but do you think it was anyone else?” Jake countered.

  I shook my head. There had to be a grand’s worth of damage done. Fuck.

  “Hang tight, I’ll go get my car, and we can put the backseat down and load this inside.”

  “It’s not gonna fit.”

  “We’ll make it work. We can at least get it over to the bike shop.” We set the bike down again, and then Jake jogged for his car. I pulled out my phone and looked up the number for the bike repair shop. They weren’t going to be open much longer.

  One phone call assured me a mechanic would be there to check my bike in, but they couldn’t give me any promises until they got a good look at it.

  Jake was back in no time. “Take pictures of all of it.”

  “Yeah.” I’d need it for insurance.

  He also had his phone out and to his ear.

  “What are you doing?”

  “School resource officer,” Jake told me. “We’re filing a report on this.”

  That would take forever.

  But I got the pictures of everything, then Jake helped me stand it up again to do more. Coach pulled up while the resource officer was there, and he looked at my bike, then at us. His jaw tightened, but like us, he had no guarantees of who had done it.

  We all knew, but proving it was something else.

  “You okay to get this out of here, boys?” Coach asked.

  “Getting it over to the shop now,” I told him, and I let the shop know we would be a bit longer while the SRO filled out the paperwork. Coach and the SRO helped us get the bike into Jake’s SUV after we spread out some plastic. The last thing we needed was it leaking all over his car, too. The SRO had some rope, and we secured it with the hatch raised.

  Now to get it there before it started raining on us again.

  “Fuckers,” Jake said as we pulled out.

  “Yeah,” I said blowing out a breath. “I need to text Frankie.” I was supposed to be hanging out with them this evening. But without, a ride that might make it challenging.

  “Just let her know we’re running late,” Jake advised. “I can swing by your place and grab stuff if you need it before we head over.” At my hesitation, he said, “Coop and I both planned to work tonight, and I’m pretty sure Archie gave you the nod earlier to let you two have some time together.”

  Guilt sliced at me. “He did, and I appreciate it.”

  “But?” The warning in Jake’s voice just added to the general sour mood in the SUV.

  “No but,” I said, then scrubbed a hand over my face. “No buts. I don’t want to assume she minds if I spend the night.”

  We all had been. The guys had been sleeping in the bed with her. I didn’t mind keeping my distance for that part and intended to until I earned her forgiveness.

  “You’re not assuming shit,” Jake told me as he pulled into the bike shop’s parking lot. Considering the number of times we’d run by here while they’d been fixing the bike the first time, it didn’t surprise me he remembered where it was. “If you don’t want to stay, or she doesn’t want you to stay, one of us will get you home. But you aren’t going to fix things if you don’t have the time with her either.”

  I turned that over in my head as we got the bike out and I filled out the stuff for the mechanic. Mom and Dad were gonna be thrilled with this, but I’d deal with it. The rain returned as we were getting the bike on a loader. Once back in Jake’s SUV, I said, “Yeah, if you don’t mind running me to my place—I want to throw on something clean and grab my overnight bag and my guitar.”

  “There you go,” Jake said as he backed out of the spot and headed for the road. “Much better.”

  It shouldn’t humble me that they were all rooting for me, but it did. “How is she? Really?”

  “Better,” Jake said. “It still comes in waves. She didn’t have a nightmare last night—that’s something. First time I know she hasn’t had one since it happened.” He shot me a look. “If you’re the only one there tonight, try to stay close enough so if she has one, you can help her.”

  I nodded. “Not going to let her down.”

  “Good. Really don’t want to have to kick your ass, Bubba.”

  Shaking my head, I laughed. It shouldn’t be funny. It wasn’t really funny. At the same time, it was hysterical. Because Jake wasn’t kidding. He’d do it, too.

  “I’m serious,” he warned me, though like me, he wore a grin.

  “I know you are,” I assured him. “Oddly, that makes me feel better.”

  “Me, too.” He smirked.

  We were almost ninety minutes late by the time we’d filed the report, dropped the bike off, and gone by my place. Jake only came up long enough to give her a kiss, then he and Coop were out the door. I thought Archie would be there too, but he’d left earlier because Rachel was supposed to have come over.

  “She couldn’t make it,” Frankie told me after Coop left. “She got called in to work tonight, so I promised that we’d find some time this weekend.”

  “Okay.” I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed by the change in plan or not. Still, I studied her as I set my guitar case down. “You mind if I put my bag in your room?”

  “Staying over tonight?”

  Well, direct question for direct question. “If you don’t mind.” She sat cross-legged on the sofa, a book open in her lap and her laptop sitting just in front of her where she could pull it to her if she needed.

  She’d changed into a pair of boxers and an oversize shirt that kept falling off one shoulder. She’d also pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Well, someone had pulled it up for her.

  “I’d like to stay,” I continued before she could respond. “I’d like to spend the evening with you. I’ve missed you the last few days.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “You’ve seen me,” she scolded, but the smile took out any sting.

  “I want to do more than see you. Do you mind if I stay?” The fact it had been nearly two weeks wasn’t lost on me. Over two weeks since she broke up with me. Almost two weeks since Homecoming.

  “I don’t mind,” she murmured, and ducked her head to glance at her book.

  Giving her a moment, I grinned. “Thank you. I miss having you come over to swim, too. W
e might get another week or two out of the pool if we’re lucky.”

  Keeping it light meant I could tease her some, maybe get another smile out of her.

  “It’s supposed to drop into the sixties next week and stay there.”

  “Never say never, we’ve been sweating over Halloween before,” I called back.

  The room was neat, the bed was disheveled, but the comforter had been pulled up. Not focusing on the who and the how so much as the fact if she was up for that, then that was a good sign, right?

  Maybe I should have had a longer talk with Coop about this. He understood the psychology better, and no way was I having that discussion with Dad. Mom had given me some advice. Right now, I’d lean on that.

  After setting the bag down, I got changed into sleep pants and debated the shirt then skipped it. Mom told me to be myself. Who I’d always been was comfortable around her.

  The awkwardness and stilted interactions were a lot more my fault than hers. “You need anything while I’m back here?”

  “No, I’m good. Though if I could talk you into getting me a bottle of water, that would be great.”

  “You got it.” I flexed my right hand and checked the taped fingers. They were still sore, but I could live. Back in the living room, I swung by the sofa and picked up her empty bottle and the empty can. “Did you eat already?”

  Frankie put a finger on the line she was reading before she glanced up. I didn’t grin at her double-take, just kept moving. I dropped both in the recycle bin before retrieving a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. Jeremy had done a really nice job of stocking it.

  “Frankie?” I called when she hadn’t answered, and allowed myself a small smile while she couldn’t see my face.

  “Um…no. We had a couple of sandwiches when we got back after school. Coop helped me work through a lit paper though, so we didn’t have time to eat much, and Archie had to run back to his place for some stuff.”

  “Well, I’m not that great a cook, but I can definitely heat hot dogs and I order a mean pizza.”

  Seriously, I needed to widen the skillset. Mom had offered to teach me to cook a dozen times, and had I listened? No.

  Shit.

  “Well, if you can follow instructions, I can walk you through a couple of things.” She worked the book off her lap and nudged her laptop aside. Tiddles sat on the back of the sofa, tail lashing. The minute she stood up though, the cat jumped down and settled on her open book. She just rolled her eyes and kept coming.

  “I can follow instructions,” I promised, opening the water bottle. “Why don’t I grab your books and stuff, and you can work at the table and bid me to follow your lead.”

  She snorted. “Be easier if I can see what you’re doing.”

  Eyebrows raised, I said, “And you don’t want to read those short stories.”

  She made a face. “It’s not that I don’t want to read them, but I have read them. Going through to pull out citable material is boring as fuck.”

  I chuckled. “Fine, then tell me what to make.” I opened the fridge wider so she could slide up next to me and look. This close, I couldn’t miss the smell of her shampoo or the faint hint of the lotion she used. The light from the fridge showed the bare hints of yellow around the bruises on her face. It was almost gone.

  Though it would be a long time before I forgot where it had been.

  “Hmm,” she said, chewing her lower lip as she looked at what was in there. “We can make hot sandwiches. Jeremy got us a lot of roast beef and roasted turkey slices with swiss cheese. So we could even do open faced sandwiches. Or…” She nodded to the freezer. “He got us a bunch of appetizers we could throw in the oven to cook.”

  “Sure, but what do you want?” I raised my eyebrows.

  Lips pursed, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Breakfast for dinner?”

  “Bacon, eggs?” I guessed.

  “Fried potatoes too?”

  Well… “With you telling me what to do? What could go wrong?”

  Remind me to never ask that question again. The eggs were about the only thing that came out right and easy. She promised scrambled eggs, which we could add cheese to after, would not be remotely hard.

  But they were also the last thing I made. Cutting up the potatoes was easy, and Frankie gave me very specific instructions on the size of the cuts. The fact that she started punking me about five minutes into that process made it all the sweeter. Anything not cut correctly I had to redo.

  Totally fine. I’d do my penance.

  I got the oil heating, and then once it was sizzling, in the potatoes went. When she had to keep shifting to get out of my way, I paused to wipe off my hands, and then picked her up and set her on the opposite counter. It was the first time in a while that I’d had my hands on her for more than just a quick hug or to hand her something.

  Her swift intake pulled my attention to her lips, both of which gleamed as she licked them.

  “Just creating a safer workspace,” I assured her, though it took me a minute to convince my hands to slide down to her legs and then off. “Need to do the bacon now.”

  Maybe that was why I nearly burnt the bacon and set off the smoke alarms because I forgot to turn on the extractor, and the cats lost their minds racing away from the noise.

  The potatoes were a little too crispy in the process, too. Also, oil spatter burns suck.

  But the smile on Frankie’s face and her laughter?

  Worth every aching inch.

  It was raining again when I opened up the backdoor to get the smoke out. Frankie still had a hand over her mouth, laughing, as I waved the door. “Well,” I told her, having to say it louder over the alarms. “Now I know how hard it is.”

  That just made her laugh harder.

  When we finally sat down to eat though, she ate every piece of the bacon. Even the blackened bits, and her smile as she crunched the potatoes helped, but seriously, I just enjoyed the bubble of tension bursting.

  She nudged me with her toes. “Okay,” she said after she ate the last bite of eggs. “You did good. But I think we aim a little lower next time.”

  I frowned. “How much lower?”

  “Hmm…sausage and waffles?”

  I snorted.

  “Hey, I’ll have you know waffles are easy with a waffle iron.”

  “Good to know.”

  She hung out while I cleaned up, and then we retreated back to the living room, and I helped her get settled into place with her book and then went to get my guitar out.

  “Do you mind if I play?”

  “I never mind if you play,” she reminded me. That was true. She never had. She’d always been the one to encourage me. “But…I haven’t listened to that song you recorded for me yet.”

  Well, that was a bit of a knee to the balls, but I nodded. “When you’re ready,” I said. “I meant it. No pressure.”

  “It’s not about being ready…or maybe it is.” She ran her finger over the words on the page, mouth twisting as though she was working through her thoughts.

  Guitar in hand, I moved back to sit on the sofa and put a hand on her leg. “Hey, you don’t owe me any answers. Or explanations. I gave you the song for you. It doesn’t have a time limit or a requirement. Just like me. I’m here. I’m going to be here. This is where I want to be.”

  She lifted those lashes and studied me. It was like she looked right through me. “Why now?” The question came out so quiet, I almost missed it.

  Not playing dumb, I turned so I could face her, and when she didn’t reject my hand on her leg, I left it there. “Do you want the whole answer right now? Or is it enough that this is where I want to be?”

  Was she ready to have the whole answer?

  “I want the whole answer,” she said slowly. “I…you hurt me, Ian. When you pulled away, and then when you said I didn’t know what I wanted or needed.”

  “I know I did.” Admitting it hurt, too. “It was the one thing I didn’t want to do, and I did it. I
told you shit you probably didn’t want to hear, and I can’t tell you if I did it to sabotage them or to sabotage myself.” Blowing out a breath, I focused on her. “That was the worst part of it. I hurt you. I hurt them. I didn’t… It wasn’t your feelings I was questioning, Frankie. It was my own.”

  She straightened a little. The frown tightening her brows worried me, but I didn’t flinch under that laser focus.

  “I didn’t know if I could handle it. All I’ve ever wanted was to protect you. Protect you from everyone and everything. Even us. Maybe even especially us.” Exhaling, I forced myself to meet her gaze and stay there. “I’m not proud of what I did over the summer, of who I became. I wish… Some days, I really wish I could take it all back.” Especially the parts involving Sharon.

  “And now?”

  “Now that’s my problem, and I shouldn’t make it yours.”

  “Wrong.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Even if we were just friends, friends talk about problems, don’t they?”

  I didn’t want to just be her friend, but I nodded. “Always.”

  “You’ve told me I could talk to you about anything.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, it would seem fair you should be able to talk to me about anything, too.”

  “I have,” I told her. “You’re the only one I ever shared my music with. You’re still really the only one I share it with.”

  “That should change,” she told me. “Because you’re really good.”

  I chuckled. “I’m all right.”

  “No, Ian. You’re more than all right…you’re amazing.”

  “You just might be biased.”

  The corners of her lips twitched. “That doesn’t make me wrong.”

  “No,” I agreed slowly. “It doesn’t.”

  We sat there for a beat, and she shifted her legs to stretch them out, and then her feet rested against my thigh.

  “Think whatever you practice can help me read through here and find the pieces I need to cite?”

  I grimaced. “That’s a tall order. Especially if you already think it’s boring as fuck.”

  Her grin lit me up. “Well, I’m prepared to be entertained.” The dare in her eyes made me smile.