by Maya Hughes
“Rachel, I don’t know how you did it. If it was some sort of magic spell or whatever, but you gave us back a side of Killian we hadn’t seen in a long time and I think I speak for Frankie and me when I say, thank you. Thank you for giving him what he needed to let joy back into his life. Kill, we love you. Rachel, we love you even more. To Killian and Rachel.” I lifted my glass high in the air. Frankie lifted hers. I glanced over at her and winked. She visibly relaxed as she knew she wouldn’t have to do it. I wasn’t going to throw her under the bus, no matter how much she thought I might.
“To Killian and Rachel,” chorused everyone else in the room. The rest of the evening wrapped up early. The morning was going to be frantic enough, so no one wanted to be nursing a hangover.
The walk to the elevator was different than the one when we first arrived. Frankie was more relaxed. She bumped me with her shoulder as she wobbled a bit as we waited for the elevator.
“I was going to kill you,” she said, laughing.
“I know you were. I wouldn’t have done that to you. I just wanted you to stand up there with me. It’s not so bad, you know. You should try to do one tomorrow.”
“I’ll think about it. I don’t even want to think about everything that’s going to be going on in that suite tomorrow. So many chicks and makeup and hair.”
“I guess it is weird for you since you’re the only girl in your family.”
“How did you know that?” she asked, peering over at me like she was trying to figure out who the hell I was. There was so much I knew about her. Nothing got past me when it came to her.
“The day of the dance, it was all boys there. Have they added any girls since?” I knew they hadn’t.
“No. It’s still just me.”
“Ah well, I’m sure it means there’s lots of attention for you.”
“If by attention, you mean wedgies and noogies, even now, then yes, you’re right.” The elevator dinged and I stuck my arm out and held the elevator door open for her to step in.
“Are you going in?” I asked nodding into the darkened room. She shook her head, like she was trying to shake herself out of a trance and headed in. I followed her in and let the elevator door slide closed behind me. The low elevator music played as we stood next to each other.
“It was a really great speech, John, and thanks for coming back to get me today. Sorry, about what I said on the phone. I—” She stopped and snapped her mouth shut, staring at the elevator door. “Everyone really loved it.”
“Thanks.”
We talked a bit and she didn’t back away, like I was a leper. We were actually acting like two people who might have even liked one another.
Progress.
#FRANKIE - NOW
Everyone said their goodbyes at the dinner and headed back to their rooms. The wedding wasn’t an early morning one, but I needed to be up with Rachel and the rest of the bridesmaids at the butt-crack of dawn to get ready. I was already dreading it. Being plucked, prodded and preened was not my idea of a great time.
My ankles wobbled a little as those few glasses of champagne and whatever delicious lavender cocktails they were serving all night percolated through my bloodstream. John and I walked side by side to the elevator, and I couldn’t get over how fun and relaxing the evening had been. Neither of us tried to push each other’s buttons, and we just had a good time. A fun time with John Grimsby. I hadn’t seen that in the cards for this weekend.
Getting drunk while celebrating the unlikely marriage of my best friend and his awesome new wife? Yes. Lamenting the fact that I hadn’t been on a date in over a year and would probably end up alone? Yes. Look into picking up some cats from the animal rescue on Monday? Probably. Having an easy conversation with John in the elevator, finding out more about him and sharing a little more about me? Never in a million years. But there we were and I hadn’t had felt this comfortable around a guy in a long time. What the hell did that say about me?
He held the elevator door open when we reached out floor and we stepped out into the deserted hallway.
“I’m sure as hell glad I don’t have to go through the beauty gauntlet the other ladies were talking about,” he said with his hands stuffed into his pants pockets as we stepped into the elevator. I groaned.
“Tell me about it, I’m going to lose my mind tomorrow.”
He jabbed the button for our floor, the button lighting up.
“I guess growing up in a family of brothers, that girly stuff wasn’t the norm. Plus, the anime tshirts. You must own every single Sailor Moon one ever made. This stuff isn’t really your style, huh?” he asked, peering over at me. I glanced down at my knee-length pale-green dress and strappy sandals that wrapped around my ankles.
“Definitely not. And even for work, I tend to stick to comfy stuff unless I’m out on the floor.” I still couldn’t believe he remembered all this stuff about me. The Goobers, the DVDs—he’d paid attention to all sorts of stuff about me. I felt bad that other than the little bit back in high school, I didn’t know much about him. Anytime Killian brought him up, I tuned out. I didn’t want to know. Or at least, I’d convinced myself that I didn’t want to know.
Now, I was curious. The elevator doors opened, and John held the door open for me. I stepped out, and he followed after me. In some ways, it was like being transported back to high school. The walk home after the dance. Nerves I hadn’t felt in a long time came rushing back as I searched through my bag for my keycard.
“Thanks for bailing me out back there with the speech.” I wobbled a little as we got to the door, and John reached out, putting his hand on the small of my back to steady me. His fingers running over the soft cotton of my simple dress. The weight of them gently pressing into me made goosebumps raise on my arms. Nerve endings I hadn’t felt in a long time were all firing at once and zeroed in on his hand.
“No worries, Frankie. I’ve got you,” he said, sliding his keycard into the door lock. I stood frozen beside him as he pushed the door open. “Are you going in?” he asked, nodding toward the room. And that’s when I knew that maybe I was in big trouble this weekend. I shook my head to clear it and walked into the room, trying to keep myself steady.
The wobbly knees weren’t only from the alcohol this time. John still had his hand on me, and I could barely think straight. The door closed behind us, and I stopped right inside the doorway. He stepped around me, his fingers gone, and my brain started functioning again.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His fingers went to work loosening his tie as he tugged it from under his collar. I watched, mesmerized, as he wrapped it tightly around his fists. The pale blue running across his hands.
“Frankie?” He took a step closer to me, a look of concern in his eyes, before throwing the tie over the back of the chair at the dining table.
“I’m fine,” I said, dropping my eyes. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and I only hoped the lights in the room were dim enough that he couldn’t see. “Thanks again for handling the speech tonight. Would you happen to have something else like that in your arsenal for tomorrow?” I asked, hopefully.
He stood in front of me, the concern still there in his eyes.
“You really don’t want to give a speech.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. And he knew it. Maybe the panic I felt inside wasn’t only inside anymore. In the club, I had no issues hiding behind the leather and lace and usually my video monitors. I didn’t have to give heartfelt speeches standing up in front of the friends and family of my friends. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it like I did tonight. Maybe you can do the ‘To Killian and Rachel’ bit at the end?”
Relief washed over me so quickly I couldn’t even catch myself. At least that’s what I said to myself when I threw my arms around John’s neck.
“Thank you so much, John.” The tightness in my chest was gone as I wrapped my arms around him. His arms wrapped around my back, and I could feel his muscles bunching against me.
“
Don’t mention it, Frankie.” His words made my hair flutter against my neck. I was breathing him in once again. His minty fresh smell reminded me of our one and only date. It had been so long since I’d been held like this. Since I’d felt John’s arms around me like this.
We fit together just like I remembered. The urge to sway to the music playing in my head, music to transport us back to a simpler time was nearly overwhelming.
He didn’t make any move to break our hug, and neither did I. I could feel his back through his shirt. And his hands skimmed up and down the back of mine. The moment seemed to slow down as I absorbed everything about him. He’d been keeping tabs on me, but I’d kept my distance.
His heart thudded against my chest. He was so warm and his arms fit around me perfectly, just like they had before. Sinking deeper into the hug, I closed my eyes before snapping them open. What the hell are you doing, Frankie?
I screamed at myself before dropping my arms and taking a step back. John’s arms lingered for a split second before he dropped them too and took a step back.
“Sorry,” I said, tucking my loose hair behind my ear.
“No problem.” He had his hands shoved back into his pants pockets. “Frankie…”
I glanced up at him. “Yeah.”
His eyes searched mine, and he opened his mouth again before snapping it shut.
“Nothing. Goodnight.” He walked back over to the couch and rummaged through his bag. And I raced into the bedroom like a fire was chasing me, closing the door behind me. It was. The long simmering fires I’d tried to forget about and deny for a long time were being stoked. First, by the car ride with the candy and the movies. Then, with the speech. Why did he have to smell so damn good?
After getting changed and sliding into the soft, fluffy pillow-top bed, I still couldn’t figure out why I did it. I tossed and turned in the bed, listening to John’s bumping around out in the living room. I could have said, “See you tomorrow.” Why did I have to hug him? It was a day to celebrate Killian and Rachel, and if those two could get over all the crap they had to deal with, then a bad date back in high school should be something I could let go too.
I was determined to turn over a new leaf with John. A new leaf that didn’t include blatant hostility. I could totally do that. Didn’t the hug prove that?
I sat up at the light knock on the door. John stood in the doorway, the light from the living room silhouetting him. His body filled nearly the entire frame.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound completely casual. Like I hadn’t been in bed going over our entire night in my head.
“I wanted to know if it was okay if I used your shower.” He motioned toward the open door of my en suite bathroom with his bag and clothes in his hand.
“Of course. Have at it.”
“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the room and smiling. His green eyes on me the entire time. Just being this close to him for so long was doing things to me. Things I hadn’t let myself feel since high school. Things I tried to forget and covered over with a whole lot of other things over the years. The door closed behind him, and I stared up at the ceiling in the dark trying to tamp down whatever light and airy feeling was trying to creep into me.
He was the enemy. He was a man who couldn’t be trusted. A man who stole something from me that I’d never been able to get back in all the years since our first dance. My heart. I’d tried for years to get him out of my head, but for some reason, nothing ever compared to that stupid kiss on my front porch where I was afraid my family might pop out at any moment, and that was part of the reason I hated him. He’d turned me inside out with nothing more than a kiss, and I’d never recovered.
The shower ran, and I tried to go to sleep. Counting sheep. Trying to go through the next TV series that would be coming out, and when I could binge-watch them next. It wasn’t helping. The bathroom door flew open, filling the room with light. John stepped out, dripping wet. His dark hair had beads of water clinging to it, then rolling down his chest. His muscled chest made me gulp and my eyes travelled lower, to the minuscule towel he had wrapped around his waist.
“Sorry, I forgot my boxers,” he said, rushing into the living room. I couldn’t help myself. I shifted over in the bed, pushing pillows out of the way, and took in the full show. He bent over to unzip his bag and dropped the towel. My cheeks heated as his tight ass was hidden from view as he slid his boxers up.
If life were fair, he’d have become a pot-bellied asshole, not the hottest guy in three states. I slammed my head against my pillows. Only one more day and it would all be over, and John and I could go back to a less-hostile version of what we had before. And I would not think about how amazing he smelled tonight in the car, and I would not think about a dripping-wet John Grimsby being less than ten feet from my bed. Nope. Not going to happen.
9
JOHN - PRESENT DAY
At early o’clock in the morning, a thumping at the door had me dragging myself off the surprisingly comfortable couch to open the door. I wish I’d had a camera because the look on Killian’s face when I opened the door in my boxers was priceless.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, peering around me like he was looking for the cameras for the prank show.
“Frankie let me crash here last night when they screwed up my reservation.” I stepped out of the way, so he could come inside. He had a garment bag in his hand that he hung up on the hook behind the door.
“Frankie? As in Francesca Archer? Went to high school with us? This high?” he asked, holding his hand up to his forehead.
I nodded through each question, laughing and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
“Yes, that Francesca.” I walked back to the couch, plopped down, and rummaged through my bag for a t-shirt.
“You two weren’t at each other’s throats last night, but I thought maybe it was only because you were tired or something.”
“Nope. New leaf and all that.”
“Wow, had I known getting married was all it would take to get you two to be civil to one another, I’d have done it a hell of a lot sooner.”
I raised an eyebrow and shot a look at him, and it was his turn to laugh.
“Fine, you’re right. Wouldn’t have happened.”
“Wouldn’t have happened. And you’re one to talk about old grudges dissolving pretty much overnight. One minute you’re dead set on destroying Rhys Thayer and the next minute, you’re ready to give up everything for Rachel. I never thought I’d see the day when you didn’t have it out for him.”
He squeezed the back of his neck and slid into one of the high-back chairs opposite the couch. “You’re right. I have no room to talk about shit like that.”
I found a t-shirt and slid it on.
“What did you guys do after the rehearsal dinner?” He was trying to keep it casual, but I heard the edge to his voice.
“Came back here and went to sleep. It was a lot of driving yesterday.”
We both glanced up at the thump from the doorway as Frankie stumbled out of the bedroom in a white tank top and boxers. Her hair stuck up in every direction. My laugh caught in my throat, and I averted my eyes away from what I swear was the outline of her nipples through the top.
“Morning, Franks. Ready for the big day?” Killian asked.
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line to you?” She yawned and stretched her arms overhead. Her top rode up, showing off a sliver of skin just above the boxers. I’d never seen a more delectable bit of skin in my life.
I bit back the urge to run my finger along it as I sat straight forward on the couch. She came around, and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t until they both stared at me that I realized I’d missed something.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you called down for coffee.” Frankie said, trying and failing to hold back another yawn and dropping into the other high-back chair opposite Killian. She tucked her feet under her butt, so all I saw was the l
ong expanse of leg. I took note of the high socks and the bands around her wrists, like thick hair bands she’d use to pull up a ponytail.
“No, I figured we’d go down and get some.”
“It’s okay. I’ll call down for some. What time does Rachel want me over there?” Frankie asked, picking up the phone on the table between the two chairs.
“I have no idea, but her whole entourage is over there now, so it’s probably soon.”
Frankie ordered the coffee and a little bit of breakfast to go along with it.
“Anyone want anything else?” she asked, covering the receiver.
“I’m good,” Killian said, running his hands over his face. She turned to me.
“John?”
“Whatever you get is good with me.”
She ended the call and fought to keep her eyes open.
“There is a makeup person, hair person, and about ten other people crammed into that suite. It’s like Paris Fashion Week. Dahlia keeps grumbling about not wanting anyone to touch her. She’s battling jet lag, since she got in from LA. If she doesn’t go running from the room before the wedding, it will be a miracle. I’m hoping, as the maid of honor, she’ll be able to stomach the primping and preening.”
Frankie had her head resting on her fist with her eyes drooping lower by the second. Her long, thick eyelashes fluttered up and down as she tried to wake up. Killian leaned forward and motioned between me and Frankie. I shook my head. The look he gave me meant he wasn’t going to let this drop.
“I love Rachel, but all those bridesmaids scare me. Well, except for Dahlia. She’s cool, but all those other chicks… maybe Dahlia and I can hide away in a closet somewhere,” Frankie said.
“That’s what I’d do. Most are cousins her well-meaning mother made her ask to be bridesmaids. I’m sure you’ll be saving her by going over there. There’s only so many squealing women Dahlia can fend off,” Killian said, chuckling.
