Changes and Chocolates: Untouchable Book Two

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by Long, Heather


  My resolve wavered. I was mad but…

  “Hey, Frankie.” Rachel Manning calling me was probably the second to the last thing I wanted to happen right now. Jake scowled, but the other girl was a lifeline—whether she knew it or not—and I was drowning.

  “Hey, Rachel,” I said, turning and trying to tug my hand out of Jake’s grasp. “What’s up?”

  She was solo. Where had her posse gone? Cheryl and the others were by the pool with Maria. Sharon was standing right amidst the other football players, dead in front of Ian, but his arms were folded, and he stared across the pool to where we were. Coop wasn’t on my lounger, he’d moved to the patio and looked to be arguing with Archie.

  What were they fighting about?

  You know, no, I focused on Rachel, and finally Jake let me go, because I think he got the point that I wasn’t going to stop. His sigh spoke volumes, though.

  “Just thought I’d see if you had a minute. I know it’s a party—but you think you have time to go over some poetry with me?”

  Seriously? Homework help?

  “It’s a party, Manning,” Jake said, scowling. “She’s not your private tutor.”

  “I don’t think I was talking to you, dickhead,” Rachel retaliated. “And since she was trying to get away from you, maybe you should take a hint.”

  And okay… “Sure, I can give it a few minutes, but it’s a party, and everyone else looks like they’re having fun.”

  Rachel shrugged. “You’re not, and I think you could use the break.”

  Well, she wasn’t wrong.

  “Frankie…”

  “I’m going to talk to Rachel,” I told him firmly and tried not to drown in those pale eyes. Jake never let me get away with anything, and he had to know I was bolting. It was written all over his face.

  “Don’t leave,” he said, then added. “Please. Just don’t take off?”

  “No promises.” It was the best I could do. I folded my arms again and faced Rachel. “Want to take a walk out in the garden? It’s quieter. Probably be able to hear ourselves think.” Because someone had cranked the music louder.

  Jake loomed over us both, but Rachel ignored him. “Sure, sounds good. See you, dickhead.”

  “Bitch,” Jake muttered under his breath as we walked away, and I shot him a look over my shoulder. Seriously? The impatient look he gave Rachel before he met my gaze answered that question. I wanted to reassure him, but Rachel bumped me, and I glanced at her.

  “He’s cranky. Sulking will do him some good. Besides, you really do look miserable.”

  I really was miserable.

  Didn’t mean I wanted to talk to her about it.

  “Thanks,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. “This is my best hair shirt look.”

  She grinned as she pushed open the gate. “Huh, maybe you need more Elizabeth Barrett Browning in your life,” she said as I followed her into the low-lit garden, and the music faded behind us.

  I needed something.

  Chapter Two

  Help Wanted

  The garden was really just a collection of shrubbery with some seasonal flowering plants, crepe myrtles—and they were already giving up their flowers—along with a pair of dogwoods, one in each far corner so their flowers didn’t end up in the pool. But the ground lighting and the tall shrubs with the mismatched stone pavers and mulch gave it a kind of fantasy element.

  If nothing else, the tall shrubs—particularly those lining the pool area—muted the sound. But you could still catch some of the lyrics. Arms folded, we walked several feet in silence. There were a couple of benches out here. The garden itself wasn’t huge, but it was long, and you could meander like it was a maze.

  “Did you really want to talk about poetry?” I asked Rachel.

  “No. I mean, we can. You just looked like you needed an excuse to get away from Jake.”

  I had plenty of excuses to get away.

  Plenty to stay, too.

  “That obvious, huh?” And humiliating.

  “Maybe not to everyone,” Rachel said, then shrugged. “But you haven’t been happy all evening, and you weren’t at work this afternoon.”

  “Took a half-day.” Not totally a lie. Marsha had sent me home early, so technically a half-day.

  “Resting up for the party you’re not enjoying?”

  I shrugged and walked over to one of the benches. Sitting, I went to rub a hand over my face, but remembered I’d actually tried to look nice tonight, so stopped. “I’m just tired.”

  Also not a lie. I was exhausted.

  “Then go home,” Rachel said, sitting next to me and stretching her legs out. “You’re not having fun, and you’re tired. No one says you have to stay.”

  No, they didn’t. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. There were a couple of messages on the screen. One from Archie, and the other from Jake.

  Jake: Do not just take off.

  Archie: If you need a break, go inside and make yourself comfortable. Party not allowed in there.

  Make myself comfortable. I cleared away the messages and checked the time.

  Ten more minutes.

  Then I could figure out where to go. Maybe take myself to a movie, if I stayed out late enough, I could get in after Mom went to bed. All at once, that reality blanketed me again and I wanted to be sick. I just didn’t get it. Why would Mom have an affair with a married guy? I wanted her to be happy…

  “Frankie,” Rachel’s voice jerked me out of the reverie.

  Oh. Shit.

  “Sorry.” The frown practically echoed in her voice. “Did you forget I was here?”

  “Yes—no. Sorry, I’m just distracted.” I set the phone down on the bench next to me so I could just hit it to check the time.

  “I can see that.” The dry tone helped. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Yes, I did. But I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Rachel and I weren’t that close. We kind of had been back in middle school, sorta. But not really. “Not right now,” I said slowly. “But thanks for asking.”

  Sitting out here meant I had a break from the guys, but it also meant I wasn’t where Mr. Thorns could find me. I had to stop calling him by that name. Maybe I should just go.

  “I think I’m going to go…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced at her and found her watching me with a look of genuine concern. “Thanks for wanting to talk, but I’m—I’m in a mood, and I’m tired.”

  “It’s okay. You all right to drive?”

  I’d had the wine and the beer an hour ago. The distance and buzzy feeling were gone. If I’d really had them at all. They’d helped with the shock, but that wasn’t saying much. “I should be fine, just need to figure out where I want to go.”

  It was too early to go home. If Mom was there—no way she would be asleep. Then again, I could drive by. If her car wasn’t there… maybe she and Archie’s dad went to a hotel or something.

  “Home?” Rachel asked, and I couldn’t help it, the thread of questioning curiosity in her voice tugged at me. “Or… we could go grab food, if you’re hungry. I think the guys had snacks at the party. But I haven’t eaten today.”

  “You didn’t eat at Mason’s?” Didn’t she say she went by?

  “I grabbed a shake,” she said, shifting and smoothing the hair back behind her ears. “It was packed, and I didn’t want to wait for a table.”

  Guilt swamped me. They’d been packed? And Marsha sent me home. Crap.

  I should call her. “Was it that bad?”

  “I don’t know,” Rachel said. “I mean, they were full and I mostly swung by to say hi since I was over there.”

  Really? I frowned.

  “What?” Rachel grinned. “I’ve been to Mason’s a lot over the last couple of months, you thought I was just going there for the burgers?”

  Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it. But I supposed she was right. I had seen her a lot over the summer. “Sorry, I guess I’ve been living
in my own bubble.”

  “It happens.” Rachel let me right off the hook. “Course, now you can make it up to me and make my shake extra thick when I come in next time, because it’s not for the food.”

  I laughed. “The shakes are already thick, if you want it that thick, I’ll just scoop you some ice cream.”

  “That would work. I like ice cream.”

  We both grinned. It was ridiculous and funny, and maybe just what I needed to hear. “Where do you work?”

  “Me?” She raised her brows. “Why?”

  “Well, if you’re going to stop by Mason’s to see me, seems only fair, that I go harass you at work, too.”

  “Oh, so it’s harassment now.” Her voice warmed. “I see how it is.”

  “Well, depends, can I do my homework there?” God knew, I had a lot of it.

  Rachel snort-laughed, and I snickered. “You can come by, but it’s not glamorous.”

  “And working at Mason’s is?” I raised my eyebrows. “I smell like burger grease and french fries at the end of every shift.”

  “But you love it,” Rachel pointed out. “You’re always smiling and nice, even when it’s insane.”

  “That’s the job,” I told her. “People respond to happy.” Even when I was dying on the inside. Course, it was harder to be happy then. “So where do you work?”

  “The grocery store,” Rachel admitted. “Three times a week, nothing big, you know. But it gives me extra cash. I didn’t want to work retail, but I like the folks who shop at Dell’s Grocery, and I get a discount. So if you ever need deli meat or something, I’m your girl.”

  I got a discount at Mason’s, too. Technically a free meal each day I worked. Most of the time, I didn’t take advantage of it, because who wanted to eat the same burgers over and over and over again?

  “Good to know. I like Dell’s, we don’t go there as often cause they’re expensive.”

  “Local places are—I mean, Mason’s isn’t a chain either.” Which was true.

  “What days do you work?”

  Rachel grinned. “Hey, I never asked your schedule.”

  “What you stalked Mason’s every day to find out when I worked?”

  “No, because that would be creepy,” she said easily. “I went in and asked when you’d be there next, and I heard you tell Coop that you were working weekends last spring.”

  Oh.

  “Okay, that’s way more reasonable.”

  “Right?” Rachel canted her head and looked back to where the pool was, not that we could see it. There were shrill screams of laughter punching through the darkness, and someone turned the music up. If they kept that up, the cops were going to be called.

  It had happened before.

  “You feel better?”

  Leaning forward, I flattened my hands against the bench edge. Did I feel better? “I don’t know. Maybe not so wound up.” Laughing had helped—a little.

  “Do you want to try and go back to the party? It sounds like the dancing’s started. Might be fun.” There was a hopeful note in her voice.

  Going back meant seeing the guys. “I don’t know,” I said, and maybe that made me a broken record.

  “Okay, well you can still go, or we can go grab something somewhere quieter. Unless you don’t know about that, too.”

  I groaned and covered my face. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m terrible company.”

  “You’re not so bad,” she said far more easily than I deserved. “I don’t mind hanging out here, it’s comfortable.” Though it had gotten a bit chillier, she wasn’t wrong. “It’s kind of nice to be near the party but not have to deal with the people.”

  “Since when don’t you like people?” I sat up and then back. It was ten minutes past the hour. Course, if Mr. Thorns was there and I was hiding in the garden, it wasn’t like he was going to find me out here.

  “Since…”

  Displaced and scattering mulch announced the new arrival before Coop popped around one of the taller pine shrubs. “There you are. Jesus, Frankie. Don’t disappear.”

  “She didn’t disappear,” Rachel retorted. “She took a walk, and your buddy Jake saw her go, so don’t pretend you didn’t know where she went.”

  Wow. That was hostile, even for Rachel. Coop stared at her for a moment and, I gotta admit, so did I.

  “You know what, Rachel…” Coop began.

  “She does, actually,” I told him. “And I didn’t disappear. I took a break.” Coop swung his gaze to me. “I also don’t need a babysitter.”

  He sighed. “Frankie…”

  “I’m not doing this right now.” And I definitely wasn’t doing it in front of Rachel.

  “You don’t have to do it at all, if you don’t want,” Rachel stated. “My original offer stands.”

  “What offer?” Coop asked, his eyes narrowed, then he shook his head. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t run into the flower guy and gotten in over your head.” He winced.

  Well, at least he had the grace to feel bad about that statement. “I’m fine, Coop,” I told him.

  “Does that mean you already met him?”

  “It means I’m fine.” I met his stare and his shoulders deflated.

  “Frankie…”

  “Dude, do you need a sign?” Rachel asked, and I put a hand on her arm as Coop glared at her.

  Coop just didn’t do that. Though lately, he’d been doing a lot of things I would have said he didn’t do.

  “It’s okay, Rachel, seriously, thanks for wanting to stand up for me. But I can handle it.” I really didn’t need or want her fighting my battles for me. It was kind of weird that she was offering to do it, and at the same time, I appreciated her.

  Gripping my hand once, she said, “You really don’t have to put up with them.”

  “You know, the only person here who wants your opinion, is you,” Coop informed her. There it was, his temper fraying. Just because he was usually the easiest going guy around didn’t mean he didn’t have one. Not that I saw it often. Usually only in context with his dad.

  “I think I’ll listen to Frankie’s opinion on that,” Rachel countered with a smile. “Truth hurt, Coop?”

  He stared at her. “You were the one who told her that crap.”

  “You mean the truth? That you guys wouldn’t let anyone else get within a hundred yards? That you wanted to have your cake and eat it too?”

  Okay, this was escalating.

  “It was none of your damn business,” Coop said. “Seriously, girl, get your own life and butt out of hers.”

  “I think she needs more people in her life, because if you all had your way, it would be the four of you and no one else…” Rachel stood up. “And I’m not afraid of you or Jake or Bubba or Archie. You’re all a bunch of—”

  I whistled. It was sharp and shrill, and they both turned to look at me.

  “Now that I have your attention,” I told them. “Knock it off. Rach—seriously, thank you, but I can handle this. And Coop—shut up. Rachel did me a favor. You don’t like it, because I was righteously pissed at all of you.” And hurt.

  His expression shifted. He knew what I wasn’t saying.

  “You don’t get to be mad at her for telling me the truth.”

  He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair.

  Smiling faintly, Rachel glanced at me. “I’m going back to the party. Come find me when you’re done, if you still want to get out of here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing…” As she started away, Rachel pivoted. “I work on weekends and on a couple of afternoons after school. One of the perks of early release, I’m usually getting done with work when everyone else is getting home.”

  She had a point. “Cool.”

  Another smile, and then she was gone.

  “I hate this,” Coop said, his voice somber. “I really hate this, Frankie.”

  “Well that makes two of us.”

  “Three,” Ian said as he slid around a collectio
n of pine bush. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I came out here to see if you were all right, and I guess Coop had the same thought.”

  “Coop wanted to make sure I hadn’t escaped or snuck off with some other guy.” The fact Coop grimaced said I wasn’t too far off the mark.

  “You’re mad at us,” Ian said quietly. “We deserve it. I’m sorry, I should have given you a head’s up. Admittedly, when my friends do bonehead things, I try to talk them out of it. I was kind of hoping you’d never have to know because they’d change their minds.” With a glance at Coop, Ian continued, “You should know Coop was the first one to tell them to back off.”

  “So it was basically Jake and Archie, that’s what you’re saying?”

  “No,” Coop offered. “It wasn’t. We all knew. We all talked about it. Ian never backed off, I—did. After Thursday, I really, really want this shot. Now I think we blew our feet off.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that, so I folded my arms and leaned back. I was so tired.

  “I have to be able to trust you guys,” I said slowly. “That’s—that’s why I told you what I wanted in the first place. I trusted you. I know I spent the summer not trusting you, and that sucked. What you did hurt—this hurts more. It’s not just about Mathieu.”

  Coop rubbed the back of his neck. “We know. But what Ian said earlier is right, we didn’t know how to tell you, or if we should. I mean—she’s your mom.”

  Dropping to sit on the ground in front of the bench, Coop studied me. Ian glanced between us and then he eased down into the spot Rachel abandoned. “Do you mind if we just hang out here with you?”

  I did and I didn’t.

  “Guys, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Okay,” Ian said on an exhale. “Want to try talking to us like we’re just your best friends?”

  “And not the guys I made out with?” Coop winced, but he nodded. “Trust circle?” His smile was weak but genuine.

  “We were friends first. I beat up Robbie Gillerton for you.”

  I snorted. “I knocked out Maisy Jackson’s tooth for you.”

  His eyes widened briefly, and then he burst out laughing. “Oh, God. I forgot about that.”

  “Who the hell was Maisy Jackson, and why did you knock out her tooth?” Ian glanced back and forth between us, some of the tension leeching out of his face.

 

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