by Haley Jenner
Francesca Walker wants someone to fight for her. She’s done with being a dirty secret and I feel sick to my stomach that I ever forced that upon her. Everyone should know that I’d drop to my knees to tell her how I feel, that I’d fight as long and as hard as I needed to for her to know my heart was hers.
“Three things,” I start, hoping it’s enough to stop her escape. Praying her feet pause in their hurried steps to find space that I no longer care to live with.
It works, her back still to me, hands braced on the frame of the door, steadying her footing.
I hear a quick clap behind me, shuffling of bodies in seats, and I know if I looked at the faces that only moments ago were lined with exhaustion, they’d now be alight with excitement, giddy smiles at the ready.
“I love you.”
I stand with my hands by my side, my heart completely open, waiting for her to turn. The anticipation is excruciating and in that moment all that matters is Frankie. Gone are our friends, our family. It’s just her and I, and every unsaid promise I should’ve made months ago.
Her head turns first, bringing me into focus. Her body remains angled away from mine, still ready to run. She doesn’t believe what she heard. Whether it’s her own insecurities, or if the conviction in my tone was lacking… I don’t know.
“I’m in fucking love with you,” I continue on, taking a tentative step forward, letting my feelings bleed into my words.
She turns fully, hands falling limply at her sides. “But—"
“I love you,” I cut her off, the three little words that I vowed never to say again whispering from my lips in a declaration so loud it brings tears to her eyes.
“With everything inside of me, Frankie.” I take another step forward, and she matches it with one of her own. “It ain’t much.” I shrug. “I know I’m more than a little broken. But all the shattered pieces… they’re yours. Whether you want them or not.”
Reaching her, I let my thumb and forefinger run along her hair, watching the soft wave fall along her shoulder. Picking up her hands in mine, I lift my eyes to hers, the midnight shade shining like a black diamond. “Because I love you, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. My heart is yours, Francesca Walker, in the same way I know yours is mine.”
Eyelids closing, the wet kiss of her eyelashes dampen her cheeks, tears falling on each side.
“That’s why I know this is real.” I lift our hands, wiping the wetness from her skin. “That what we have is forever because what kind of fool breaks their own heart?”
Swallowing heavily, she looks at our joined hands. “You think I’m crazy.”
“Totally fucking mental,” I echo, a smile stretching at my lips. “But sometimes it takes crazy to love crazy.”
A laugh coughs from her mouth, her hand pulling up to run under her nose on a stammered sniffle.
“Learned a lot about myself in this last year.” I wait for her to meet my eyes again, pulling her body closer to mine
Our audience remains surprisingly quiet as I speak, but I feel their eyes, pinned to my back in eager anticipation.
“Found that family ain’t who you get given. They’re the people you choose to surround yourself with. Found that the best friend I’ve ever had is fucking crazy.” I lean down, touching my lips to her parted ones, tasting her tears. “Certifiable. But fuck me if I don’t love her in a way that makes me feel like I’ve lost my mind.”
Inhaling heavily, I let it go on a smile. “I breathe for you, Frankie. I live for you. And maybe I’m too late,” I worry, my worst fear being vocalized, the fear in that statement obvious in the shake of my voice. “Maybe I hurt you in a way that told you not to waste your love on me. Just needed you to know regardless, Crazy Girl. You deserve to know that you’re worth more than any man, including me, has ever made you feel.”
I wish I could read her better right now. But head tipped down, I can’t see the thoughts in her eyes. Bated breath is such a clichéd term, but that’s how I wait. Frightened and excited all in the same. Petrified she’ll tell me I’m too late, but praying she won’t so I can kiss her the way I should’ve always done. With love on my lips and the promise of forever in my heart.
“Three things.” She glances up at me through wet lashes.
“I thought I knew what love was until I met you. I just assumed that I wouldn’t get the fairy tale like everyone else. I was looking for Prince Charming when what I really needed was a superhero. Fuck the white horse when my guy has a magical fucking hammer.”
I laugh, the thick sound free of anything but happiness.
I move to kiss her, but she holds her two fingers up between me, tongue dancing along the straight line of her white teeth.
“I could be an axe murderer.”
I let her hands go, a palm running roughly along my jaw. “So could I,” I smirk.
Jumping into my arms without a wink of warning, I stumble back a step, righting my footing to cup her ass. “Got a third before I kiss you?”
“Yeah.” She bites her lip, letting it go on a sexy as fuck grin. “I love you.”
Her lips attach to mine before I can consider leaning forward to kiss her. Arms wrapped around my neck, she crawls higher up my body, sticking herself to me like glue. Hands squeezing her ass, I pull her in even closer.
“Seren-fucking-dipity,” a deep voice chuckles behind us, and Frankie pulls back, face peering over my shoulder.
“Quiet in the peanut gallery,” she scolds. “You’ve all had your moments of cheese and public declarations of love. It’s our turn.”
Pulling her face back to mine, I angle her head, letting my tongue stroke slowly against hers. She moans, deepening our kiss further.
“All right you two,” Archer coughs. “There’s impressionable little minds present. Get a room.”
“Yeah,” Jake concurs. “Toby’s not ready for the birds and the bees talk yet. Have some self-control.”
Breaking the kiss on a quiet laugh, I drop my mouth to hers again, a quick smack of my lips one, two, three times.
Arms wrapping around my neck as tight as they’ll go, she scales my body, legs encircling my waist. She’s locked against my body in a way that tells me she never wants to let go. Makes me one happy motherfucker, because there isn’t a single reason in this world I’d want her to let go.
“I love you, Luca St. Kelly,” she whispers against my ear, tightening her grip even further.
“Look at me,” I coax, palm running up her spine gently.
She obeys the quiet command, angling her body back to give me access to the depths of her midnight eyes. “Couldn’t take a full breath before I met you. Didn’t even realize I was suffocating until I tasted the air you breathed into me.”
The softness of her face transforms, a grin twitching at her mouth, dark lips expanding across the entirety of her face, splitting it open. It stretches all the way to the eyes that hold me captive, the opaque pools shining with delight.
“I’m your oxygen,” she breathes.
My smile mirrors hers. “Can’t breathe without you, Crazy Girl.”
Epilogue
Luca
six months later
She walks out of the bathroom, towel rubbing roughly along her hair. The dark waves fall heavily over her shoulders, the towel dried waves framing her face like an editorial spread. The kind women pay fuck loads to replicate; and my girl achieves it walking out from the shower, still dripping fucking wet.
“Was thinking you and I do everything ass about face,” she ponders, squeezing her ends into the cotton of her towel.
“I’d like my face in your ass,” I retort, unscrewing the lid of my water to bring it to my lips.
She pauses, the glint in her eye playful. “Do we have time?”
Replacing the cap on my water, I smirk. “Unfortunately not. Especially not at the snail’s pace you insist on getting ready at.”
“Tease,” she huffs, turning to walk her naked ass back into the bathroom. “Anyway, a
s I was saying, we do things ass about face; we fucked.” She looks at my reflection, my body leaning against the half-wall installed in the loft. “We moved in together.”
“You moved in,” I tease. “There’s a difference.”
“What is with you today? You’re overly jovial. It’s creepy.”
Shrugging, I let my eyes drift over her naked body as she stretches on tiptoes to examine her face in the mirror. “Today’s a good day. I like today.”
In truth, since that single moment when she told I hadn’t lost her love, every day has been a good day. After spending so long denying the feelings that we had no control over, I didn’t want to waste a single night not sleeping next to her. I didn’t care for a single morning to pass that I didn’t wake up with her pressed against me. She moved in that same night and the last six months have been the happiest of my life. Frankie’s the reason I want to wake up every day, makes sense I celebrate doing just that.
Eyeing me suspiciously, she falls back onto the heels of her feet, rubbing moisturizer in circles along her face. “Back on topic: we fucked, moved in together, became best friends, started fucking again, and then fell in love.”
I raise an eyebrow in query, watching her apply her foundation.
“We do shit back to front,” she offers.
“I prefer ass in face.”
Sighing, she ignores me. “I’d like to continue on that way. Let’s have babies, wait until they can be a part of our wedding before getting married.”
“Something you wanna tell me, Crazy Girl?” I point at the flat line of her stomach.
“No,” she mumbles, faces stretched awkwardly as she applies eyeliner. “Why?” she pauses. “You’d be okay if I was pregnant right now?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Love you, Frank. Whether our family begins now or in five year’s time, makes no difference to me. As long as it’s you and me.”
She smiles softly, turning to look at me over her shoulder.
“But.” I move closer, shifting her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “If you think I’m putting a baby in that body without you sporting the name St. Kelly, you’re mental.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Toby’s right.” She brushes her eyelashes with mascara, looking at herself, then reapplying a second coat. “Our baby and Sachi are totally gonna fall in love. There can’t be a too big of an age gap.”
My entire face contorts in confusion. “You’re crazier than I fucking thought.”
She considers me blankly for a minute, shrugging off the thought to apply lipstick.
“Our son is going nowhere near Sachi Dean.”
Turning, she leans against the counter, leveling me with an unimpressed glare. “And why not?”
I walk from the room, her hot on my heels. “Archer and I have just come good. He doesn’t care she’s my namesake, our son puts his dick near his daughter, he’ll kill him. And me, for good measure.”
Her chuckle resonates through the apartment, pulling Griff’s attention before he huffs out an unimpressed bark at being woken and settling back to sleep.
“Maybe we’ll have daughters.”
My head tips to the side in challenge. “Baby. Look at me. All testosterone. Trust me, you’ll be growing me boys. Devilishly handsome ones too,” I add. “Just like their dad.”
She throws a pillow at me, moving to grab her dress from the bed. “You’re ridiculous, that has nothing to do with it, it’s all about.… Where are they?” She stops, hands cupping her hips.
“Where are what?” I feign innocence, knowing full well she’s talking about the lacy panties she laid out with her dress.
Picking up the dress that hugs her like a second skin, she pulls it over her head, yanking it down her body. “Luca St. Kelly. We are not doing this right now. It’s my mom and dad’s anniversary party. I am not walking into that room, in this dress,” she points down her body, “sans panties.”
I shake my head in concern. “No idea what you’re talking about. Maybe Griff took them. I did see him eyeing them, now that you bring it up.”
“Luca.” She stamps her foot.
“Francesca,” I mimic.
Sighing at the ceiling, she exhales patiently. “Luc. Baby. We’re already late. You stuffing my panties into your pocket like the regular creeper you are, we’re gonna miss the whole thing.”
I shrug. “Frank. Crazy Girl. We’re late because you get ready in slow motion. I don’t have your panties. Promise. Come. Check my pockets.”
She glances to my pants, tongue clamped between her teeth in indecision.
Giving in to her need to prove me wrong, she stalks forward, stopping only when her body is an inch from mine.
Hand digging into my right pocket, she pulls the whole thing out, coming up empty.
My smile is victorious, definitely arrogant, and she breathes deeply. My heart races in my chest, so loud I’d swear she can hear it. Hand dipping into my left pocket, she fiddles around. Face creasing as she settles on the cool metal circle within the confines of my trouser leg. She slides it out, bringing it up between us.
A small gasp sounds from her lips as she considers the black diamond ring, balancing delicately between her fingertips.
“Like my heart,” I offer, clearing my throat quietly to remove the lump forming. “It’s yours, forever… if you’ll have it.”
Tears balanced like rain on her lashes, she watches me wide-eyed.
“I love you, Francesca Walker, and I hope you let me tell you that every day for the rest of our lives.”
Taking the ring gently from her hands, I slide it along the second finger of her left hand. “Once upon a time I vowed I’d never do this again, but my story wasn’t complete, nowhere near it. The universe knew it had something greater planned for me, someone that completed my story.”
She stares at the ring, fitted perfectly to her finger in awe. “I promise to love you harder, and more completely each and every day. I promise to make sure you know you’re the only girl I see…. Let me breathe, Frankie… marry me?”
“Yes,” she cries, she laughs, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Spinning her on the spot, I take comfort in the woman in my arms. The sexy stranger from the bar with the sad eyes. The woman that took my search for something real and offered me everything I never knew I wanted in life. She healed my heart before I even knew she was in there.
Francesca Walker… totally fucking crazy… just like the love I have for her.
Sneak Peek: Trey
“I don't understand the need to run back to a place you've harbored so much dislike for in the past."
I ignore the brittle lilt in her words, even going so far to shut my eyes to drown her out.
"That's mine," she argues, gesturing to the coffee mug I wrap in one of my shirts, stuffing it deep into my duffle.
"It's mine," I declare quietly, pissed off that I responded at all.
I don't need to look at her to see the way her small arms cross over her chest, the vacant stare in her eyes as she watches me pack away my things in the house we spent years building into a home.
Moving around the space, I pick up the bare minimum; clothes, toiletries, my electronics. Everything else can stay. I want zero reminders of this abyss of pain. That regret can be encapsulated into the brick of this house, forever her problem. More importantly, no longer mine.
"You can't just run away, Trey. All those twisted emotions, they're still gonna be poisoning you, no matter where you go."
It niggles at me that her soft scent fires my guilt, that it tickles along my spine like my greatest failing.
"You're wrong." I finally turn to her, duffle clenched tightly in my fist. "I can't breathe here anymore, Misty. You're suffocating me."
A year ago I would've tasted her tears, kissed them away in reassurance. Cuddled her tiny frame to my chest, picked her up to fit her to me more completely. Vow to her we'd sur
vive.
Not anymore.
"I don't even know you anymore," she accuses. "How can you say that to me? I love you."
My hand shakes. I hate this part. Hate breaking her heart the way I need to.
"And you love me." The fragility in her voice lost to the resilience in her words as she fights for me to agree.
Steeling my composure, I inhale viciously through my nose, eyes closed to build my shield. Opening them again, I force my eyes to penetrate hers, making her see my words. "No, Misty. I don't. Not in the way you need me to. This is broken. We're a shattered fucking vase, too many pieces missing for it to be put back together."
Pulling my key from its chain, I chuck it onto the entry table, the simple yet tender act lifting a weight off my overburdened shoulders.
Moving to step through the door, I pause, grabbing the single photo from the entryway wall, tucking it under my arm.
Misty and I in happier times. Our wedding. Smiling at one another in a love that you'd swear would never falter.
"To relieve your guilt?" she fires out, moving closer.
I offer her one last glance, shaking my head. "To remember that once upon a time you made me happy. That I did the same for you. That we were more than this nightmare."
I move through the door before she has the chance to respond, moving toward my car with deliberate steps.
I don’t allow myself a single glance back at the house as I reverse out of the driveway.
I refuse to check if she witnesses the moment I leave her.
I’m weak, but I can’t stomach the front row seat to any more of her heartbreak.
Luca and Frankie’s Playlist
Crazy In Love, Beyonce
