Heart Broke (Broken Home Book 1)

by Angela Stevens

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I turn the wheel, heading down a narrow street. “I think it’s the fact that the girl I’ve been insanely in love with for the past few weeks keeps breaking my heart. You’d be surprised how heartbreak can wear on a guy, especially a guy like me.”

  “A guy like you? I didn’t know guys like you could get heart broke.” She’s ignored the part where I confessed I was insanely in love with her.

  “Yeah. A guy like me. A Prank.” I say cockily, turning the wheel again and slowing down. “You know, people think we are all tough with no brain but that’s not true. We got plenty brains. Pranks have as much brains as Pricks do. We’re just not raised with a silver spoon in our mouth, so we have to adapt differently, learn more quickly. It’s like you suggested, we’re forced to get wiser faster. But street-smarts, intuition, experience—it’s all the same to me.” I press on the brake, throwing the car into park. “Do you need help with your books?”

  Franny lifts her head to look around. I don’t think she realized we were already in front of her home. She pulls on the door handle, pushing the door open with her shoulder before leaning back into the passenger seat to unbuckle her seat belt. She pauses, bowing her head to look at the knapsack she is squeezing in her lap. “Can I ask you something, Rick?”

  I hesitate. What could she possibly want to know? Is this going to lead into another fight? I don’t want to fight with her anymore. “Sh-sure.”

  “Do you think about me?” Franny sends a look that says she’s been thinking a lot, which surprises me. Considering all the pride Uptowners are known to carry, I’m surprised she’s able to confess, “I think about you.” She blinks. “Often.”

  Wiser. That’s what I thought I was because although I have been thinking about her, I’ve been thinking that no matter how tempted I might be if I should ever have to come face-to-face with her like this—like I am right now—I’d have learned through all my heartache, that we don’t belong together. The problem is my heart aches more than it ever has before and I figure I still need time to grow wiser. I still need time to think.

  I reach over Franny. My whole body leans over her reaching for the door, slamming it closed and shutting her in. I refasten her seatbelt before planting my ass back in my seat and starting up the engine.

  “Where are we going?” Franny asks a bit frantic as I check the side-view mirror for oncoming traffic.

  The road is clear. “Nowhere.” I hit the accelerator.

  Two hours. That’s how long we’d been driving without saying a word—without arguing and without touching—except for when we pulled into a gas station to stop for gas and a soda, at which point we were both polite despite the equal uneasy feeling we were both carrying, knowing it was at that point, midway, where we had to turn around.

  It was also at that point, I feared we’d start arguing again. We separated inside the store. I went to get my Coca-Cola from the coolers at the back end, while Franny went to get a lemonade from the soda fountain next to the front counter. When we joined each other at the same time in front of the register, Franny embarrassed me by offering to pay, flaunting her Daddy’s credit card.

  I insisted to the clerk that I would cover the costs of both drinks and when Franny raised her voice in argument, I hooked my arm around her shoulders, tugging her to land flush at my side. “I’m paying,” I said to the clerk and he nodded, tightening his lips and taking my cash.

  I kept my arm around Franny as I escorted her back to my Thunderbird. She slipped her hand in my back pocket and for the first time in my life, I felt like a normal person. I wasn’t some dumb kid brought up on the streets or a low-life dirty Prank from Downtown. With Franny, I was the guy my mother wanted me to be. The guy a girl could easily fall for.

  As I helped Franny get back into the passenger seat, keeping my hold on her fingers, she gave me a look that warmed my soul. It was a look that said I was more than just that guy. I was a gentleman.

  It was nice to get to that point, to drive for miles on end with the city behind us. Heading back to the city, it was just as wonderful to see Franny’s knapsack had found its way into the backseat at about the same time her hair found the wind and her hands found the sky.

  Me? I felt like I had found that dream again. The one where Franny was simply happy to cruise along with me, sitting next to me in the front seat of my Thunderbird. My dream had finally come true and I was, indeed, wiser for it because I’d never thought about what would happen after the dream was over. I never considered the reality that both Franny and I can’t just cruise on forever. This has been the real problem between us. Franny wants to grow up a lot sooner than I want either of us to.

  Following the street lights towards an offramp, we head off the highway back towards Uptown.

  I notice Franny shiver. “You cold?”

  “A little,” she says.

  “C’mere,” I put my arm out.

  Franny unbuckles her seatbelt, scooting over, and I wrap my arm around her. “You didn’t answer my question, Rick. Do you still think about me?”

  Again, I don’t answer. I can’t. If I tell her I do think about her constantly, she might choose not to go to college and I’ve at least become wise enough in these past few hours to know she’s been feeling as heart broken as I have but college is where she needs to go...

  And I need to let her go.

  We cruise in silence through the streets of Uptown, holding one another, her arms wrapped around my waist until I’m once again stopping in front of a house down the street from hers.

  “Thanks for bringing me home,” she says, her dimple barely visible with her fake smile. She lets go, reaching into the back to grab her bag and stepping out.

  It’s taking everything I’ve got not to pull her back in. “Thanks for cruising with me.” I fake a smile back.

  Franny glances at my cheek and hangs her head. My dimple isn’t as deep as hers. I’m sure its not showing, either.

  She shuts the car door. “So, I’ll see you at school?”

  “Sure,” I nod, though I really hope not. I can’t stand seeing her right now—about to walk away. I can’t stand not being able to just kiss her, call her my girl, or be careless, carefree kids together again.

  I watch Franny walk up the sidewalk and once she disappears into her mansion, I try to get a grip before I lose it. I want to go after her and I’m questioning why I don’t. I don’t see her parents’s car in the driveway. It would be so easy to just knock on the door and at least get one more look at her, but I don’t know if I could hold back from coming on to her. This angst inside feels desperate. Needy. I need her, but more than that, I need to calm down before I do something stupid.

  Leaning forward I dig in my back pocket for my cigs but stop as I feel something else digging painfully into my groin near where my thigh meets my cock. I slip my hand in my front pocket, pulling out what I hadn’t realized had been there this entire trip.

  Her car keys.

  Chapter 18

  FRANNY

  The door slams behind me and I can hardly breathe.

  Rick cares. I know he does.

  He doesn’t hate me, we still have something between us.

  I look over my shoulder and peer through the spy-hole in the door and my heart leaps into my mouth because Rick is getting out the T-bird and he is walking toward me. There are approximately ten seconds before he’ll arrive at my door, raise his fist, and knock. And, in that time, I have to decide what I want my future to be.

  It takes me just one of those seconds before I fling open the door.

  Rick startles at my sudden appearance and steps back, his hand is still in the air poised to rap on the door, those blue eyes intense and determined. “Franny?”

  The way he says my name is like the universe is all lining up. It belongs on his lips—I belong to him. “Rick.”

  I’m not even sure he hears me because my words are so breathy but he grins and that dimple pops into place on his cheek. I half expect to
see a halo glow around his body or hear an angelic choir, because right at this moment, I am having a revelation. A come to Jesus moment...

  This boy is mine.

  He belongs to me.

  Rick reaches out his hand, palm up, holding something, “I still have your k—”

  I don’t know what he was going to say or what madness overtook us. One second, we’re outside on my porch and the next, my back is up against the inside of my door.

  “Franny.” He pleads, his mouth at my neck making me squirm. “God, Franny.”

  I grapple with him, my hands finding his face, bringing his lips to mine. He hesitates for a nanosecond and then we are on the same page. His kisses are hard and desperate, his hands finding the knot in my shirt, tugging at it, the fabric almost tearing as he parts the tails and pops a button.

  His knuckles graze my stomach and I gasp, the aftershock of his touch ripples through me making every nerve tingle, every hair stand on end.

  “Fuck! I do think about you, Franny. Every fucking minute of the day. I can’t eat without thinking about that lip-lick, can’t breathe without smelling your strawberry shampoo, can’t close my eyes without you waiting for me behind my eyelids. I’m so sorry, Franny—for whatever I did. Just forgive me…”

  I kiss him back, trying to silence him because right now, I don’t care about the why’s and I’m done with the past. None of that matters. He’s back here with me and his arms are the only place I want to be, his kisses the only thing I need from him.

  Well, not the only thing.

  He pauses as if he is unsure, but I’m not letting him get away this time and I grab his shirt pushing it up his body and over his head. When it’s free, I toss it to the floor and he holds my gaze with smoldering eyes. My body is heating up and his fingers shift across my ribcage. I have no restraint left as I slip out from between him and the wall. For a second, he looks lost. His hair is messy where my fingers have tugged it and his lips have turned a deep red. I know he is trying to keep a firm grip on his control because his chest is heaving, and his hooded eyes blink slowly.

  But I don’t want him to keep control.

  I link my fingers with his and the next moment I’m dragging him toward the stairs.

  “Franny?”

  “Come with me.”

  We are inside my bedroom before our fingers loosen. “I-I love you Rick. I’ve been miserable without you and I’m sorry for behaving like a stupid Prick.”

  But now he is silencing me, his tongue down my throat, his hands grappling with my buttons.

  “I deserved it. But I’m never going to hurt you again, Franny, because I am always gonna put you first.”

  My shirt is coming undone, but it’s not happening fast enough, so I start at the top and our fingers release the last button together. He slides the fabric down my shoulders and it pools on the floor at my feet. I reach behind me and undo the zipper of my skirt and his hands slip it over my hips where it joins the white shirt.

  As I tremble in my mismatched panties and bra, his eyes sweep over my body.

  “Fucking gorgeous, baby. You are too fucking beautiful for words.”

  The warm rich olive tones of his skin bead with perspiration and I wonder if the room is just hot or whether it’s our internal temperatures that have reached lava level. He pops the front of his jeans, shoving them a little down his hips and now I can see the bulge in his underwear. He takes my hand, placing it on him, and as his breath hisses through his teeth, I slip my fingers in his undies and gasp. It’s hot and so much harder than I imagined it would be, but the skin there is silky smooth too and I grab it, wanting to explore.

  He catches my wrist, his mouth by my ear, “Be gentle with me, baby.”

  It’s then I realize I have no clue what I’m doing or what to do next. My heart is hammering against my chest and I grow shy. “I-I don’t’ know what to do…”

  Rick strokes a knuckle across my cheek then takes my hand and leads me to the bed. “But I do, sweet lips. Do you trust me to take care of you?”

  The words send a tingling ache straight between my thighs and all I can manage by way of an answer is a strangled breathy, “Yes.”

  Rick tugs off his jeans and kicks them from his feet then, he puts his hand in his underwear and readjusts his junk. With the other hand, he reaches out and grabs my waist, easing me closer to him. Then he guides my shaking hand to his hard length and his fingers wrap over mine as he shows me how to touch him.

  “I-is this okay?”

  He hasn’t taken his eyes from mine yet but it looks like he is struggling to keep them open. “Shit, baby, anything you do to me is more than okay.” He steps away and climbs onto the bed, holding out his hand so he can help me up.

  The next minutes are a blur but now his fingers are in my panties and his thumb is stroking a part of me that I can’t even bring myself to name. My insides are mushy and I have no control over my breathing. At this moment, I can’t quite tell if it’s pleasure or pain, excitement or fear—but when his teeth grate across my collar bone and his finger plunges inside me, my body spasms and I go into free-fall. Now it’s all pleasure, in a rolling cycle that sends wetness gushing between my legs and black spots before my closed eyes.

  When I open them, he is grinning down at me. “Was that your first orgasm?”

  My cheeks redden and I feel like such an idiot as I nod.

  “Fuck, I like that.”

  He disappears down my body and my panties are stripped from me. Before I have fathomed out what he is going to do, his mouth is between my legs. The initial horror at where he is vanishes as that out-of-control sensation builds once more. Knowing how my body reacted a few moments ago—the way my panties soaked when he took me over the edge—I’m now mortified and try to tug him away but his fingers dig into my hips and he holds me still.

  “R-rick…”

  “He pauses long enough to say, “Again, baby. Come for me again.”

  When his fingers join his tongue that is exactly what I do.

  Now his face is level with mine, his chin wet, lips shiny and red. He reaches around me and unclips my bra, tossing it to the floor.

  After tracing his tongue around each nipple, he fills his hands with me and whispers, “Are we going all the way, Franny?”

  I nod and he disappears. Propping myself up on my elbows, I see him on the floor, rooting through his jeans pockets. “Fuck, I better have a…” He drags out a silver packet and has a triumphant look on his face.

  When I realize he is holding a condom, I throw my hands over my face, both embarrassed and ashamed that I didn’t even think about protection.

  He is back beside me, his hand stroking my face, his kisses soft and gentle. “You trust me to take care of you, right Franny?”

  I do and my nerves vanish.

  I’m unsure what I thought this would be like. But like most girls, I had researched on Google for advice and descriptions but none of that info lives up to what is actually happening.

  He breathes with me through the initial pain, and is patient, soothing my panic, telling me how much he loves me, how we’ll stay together until the universe explodes or we are consumed by a black hole. And, as the discomfort becomes comfortable, he guides my body through a journey like no other.

  Every roll of his hip, each careful thrust inside me, and the never-ending mingling of our sweat means I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. And, when he finally relinquishes control, his hot wet fluid fills my insides, and I cry in his arms, overwhelmed by the love I have for this boy.

  “Hush, Franny.” He feathers my temples with kisses. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

  It is an hour or so later that I wake in his arms. Our naked bodies fitting together like they belong. My ass snug between his hips, my shoulder falling at the perfect height for his arm to slip over, and my breast fills his hand as if God took measurements when he built us.

  Rick blinks his eyes open and leans over my shoulder to kiss my cheek. “You awa
ke, sweet lips?”

  I nod, though I’m barely able to open my eyes. He chuckles and tucks his knuckle under my chin, turning my face so he can reach my mouth. “Mmm, so Goddamn delicious.” He demands another kiss and I turn in his arms, hoping that he might be ready to play around some more.

  But he groans and kisses my forehead. “I hate to break the moment, but... when are your parents coming back?”

  Up to this point I’d totally forgotten about them, and now I go into a panic. “What time is it?”

  He squints at my alarm clock. “Almost eleven.”

  “Shit.” I leap out of bed and start grabbing my clothes, but Rick is laying back against the pillow in all his sexy nakedness and he is chuckling at me.

  “Get up,” I cry frantically. “They could be here any moment.” I’m trying to do the math in my head, Daddy’s Mason events tend to finish around eleven and it is a ten-minute journey home.

  Now Rick is off the bed and he is yanking on his jeans, and the curses flying out of his mouth make me giggle. He tugs on a sock, hopping on one foot as he tries to get it the right way around. His jeans are wide open and I can see the tip of him peeking at me.

  He grins back. “Oh, so now you think my junk’s funny, do you?”

  I am in the middle of buttoning my shirt when I hear a car door slam on the driveway and my damn heart almost stops.

  “Fuck!” Rick runs to the window and peers outside. I join him in time to see my parents disappear in through the front door. Rick is shoving his feet into sneakers “Where’s my shirt?”

  We both freeze because we have just remembered him dropping it by the front door. The landing light goes on and heavy footsteps hit the staircase. “Go.” I push him toward the window.

  “Francesca!” Daddy is yelling up the stairs and I can hear he is taking them two at a time. I know he has seen Rick’s shirt and we have seconds before we are caught.

  “No. I won’t let you face him on your own.” Rick steps around me looking at the door that we both know will burst open any moment.