Chapter 2
Gray
“T alked to Jake,” I said, shaking my head. “He said it’s all quiet.”
“Good news,” my grandpa replied with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “So, the route is still in use.”
“Should be fine to use it,” I agreed. “Cops along that highway aren’t interested in dealin’ with our shit as long as we’re minding our own business.”
“Hey, Casper, Farrah’s in the clubhouse,” one of the prospects announced, peeking around the doorframe. “She asked me to tell you.”
“She’s early,” Grandpa muttered, pushing himself to his feet. “You gonna come say hello?”
I shook my head. “I come say hello every time one of the women show up, I’d never work again.”
“Fair enough.”
“Give her a kiss for me,” I said as we left the office and headed into the garage.
“Shit, I’m not even going to tell her you’re here,” he joked. “Or she’ll be out here fussin’ over you, and we’ll never leave.”
“Big plans?”
“She needs a new ride,” he replied.
“Fuck. Have fun at the dealership.”
“Shoot me,” Grandpa muttered under his breath.
I grinned as I headed over to the bay I was using for the day. Most of the boys had their own bays, but I didn’t have a steady enough schedule to justify claiming one. My specialty was wiring. Custom lights, audio and alarm systems, and super fucked rides that came in because no one could figure out what the hell had gone wrong. I’d always had an affinity for it, and it ended up working out well when I’d started at the garage as a prospect. I spent half of my time doing shit for the other side of the business, networking as my grandpa liked to joke.
All I really did was stay in contact with the wide array of connections I’d started cultivating as a teenager and using all the information I acquired to piece together a wider picture of what was happening in Oregon and the surrounding states.
I could see patterns where other people couldn’t. Grandpa liked to say it came from him, but I thought it was probably my mother who had passed it on. I couldn’t remember a time when we’d ever spoken about it, but being raised by a genius had some advantages, and I’d spent the whole of my life learning how she saw and interpreted the world around her.
“Scott’s a douche,” Brody said, leaning against the car I was working on. He was talking to Rumi and Titus while they worked together on the car next to mine.
“He’s all right,” Titus replied with a laugh.
“I agree with Brodenheimer,” Rumi countered. “Guy’s a douche. Is it me, or is that guy fuckin’ everywhere?”
“Right?” Brody said, pointing at Rumi. “He’s so far up Frankie’s ass I don’t know how the guy can breathe. Hey, Gray.”
“Don’t you work?” I joked, rounding the car.
“Let me know if I’m in the way,” he said with a grimace.
“You’re fine.”
“What do you think?” Rumi asked, pausing to look at me. “Don’t you think Frankie’s little boyfriend is a douche?”
“Haven’t met him,” I replied, folding into the front seat of the Mustang I was working on.
“How?” Brody asked in surprise, leaning down to look at me. “He’s fucking everywhere .”
“Don’t know.”
I did know. I absolutely knew. I hadn’t seen Frankie since the day she’d moved almost two months before. I’d walked out of that house kicking myself for ever agreeing to help. Francesca was not for me. I’d said some bullshit about being too old for her, but that wasn’t it. If I started something with her and inevitably when shit went south, things would get awkward as fuck in a real hurry. It didn’t matter how drawn to her I was—I needed to keep my distance.
It was impossible to miss how she looked at me. I wasn’t about to step into that storm.
“This guy is always around,” Brody continued, still leaning in the window. “If Frank’s there, guaranteed Scott is there.”
“She’s lasted longer than I thought she would,” Titus added. “He’s not her type.”
“Too…clean,” Rumi joked. “Man’s never had grease under his nails.”
“Shit, he’s never had dirt under his nails,” Brody countered.
“Why do you care?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level. Was Brody into Frankie? I’d never noticed anything between them, but it could’ve been a new development.
“Because he’s a wet fuckin’ blanket,” Brody replied, widening his eyes. “And we can’t hang with Frank without her little boy toy tagging along. So, we either don’t invite Frank—”
“Never fuckin’ happenin’,” Titus cut in.
Brody nodded. “Or we have to hang with boring ass Scott all night.”
“Sounds like a personal problem.”
“It is,” Brody said with a sigh, disappearing.
“Maybe we can convince her to break up with him,” Rumi spitballed. “Anyone know a prostitute?”
“We’re not hiring Frankie’s man a prostitute,” Titus argued.
My stomach clenched. I wished they’d shut up.
“Callin’ him her man is a little premature, don’t you think?”
“Whatever he is, I’m not gonna hurt Frankie to get rid of him.”
“He treats her well?” I asked before my mouth caught up with my head.
“Seems like it,” Brody said, his head and shoulders still hidden by the roof of the car. “Just—”
“Can’t even tell if Frank’s into him,” Rumi called, rounding the other’s car hood. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“But he’s still fuckin’ present .” Brody smacked the side of the Mustang.
“Watch the paint, dipshit,” I warned.
“Shit, my bad.”
“Let it run its natural course,” Titus ordered, his voice muffled. “It’s not like she’s gonna marry the guy.”
That was enough.
Pulling my earbuds out of my pocket, I popped them into my ears. I didn’t bother with music. The noise canceling was all I needed. Eventually Brody wandered away.
It was hard to admit I was curious about this guy Frankie was spending time with. She’d said they worked together, and I was pretty sure she worked for some big contractor. If he was clean like the boys said, he must be one of the suits. I couldn’t picture it.
Frankie was wild. She could keep up drinking with the boys, was up for any dare they dished out, swore like a trucker most of the time, and generally raised hell wherever she went. She was a trip. How the hell had she ended up with some clean-cut suit?
I tried focusing on the wiring I was threading through the dash, but I my thoughts kept straying to her. I’d never seen the softer side of Frankie until we’d hooked up. I’d considered it an anomaly until I’d helped her make her bed, and I’d noticed the same thing. When it was just Francesca and me, she was different. Softer. She still had a mouth on her and attitude to spare, but it was different somehow.
Leaning back in the seat, I gave up trying to focus and thought about that first night. She’d been dancing and joking with the boys and being a menace, and I’d been fucking gone for her. The way she moved, the way she laughed, those little jean shorts that hung on her hips until she leaned over the bar, and they pulled tight over her ass, the dark hair that fell down her back in messy waves and curls, she was a goddamn wet dream.
I got laid plenty. I’d been casually dating Emma for over a year. She was a real estate agent who worked odd hours and was usually up for hanging out when I had the time. It was a comfortable thing, and the sex was great, but it wasn’t going anywhere, and we’d never been exclusive. She liked having someone to call when she was bored, but I didn’t think she cared beyond that, which was perfect. If she’d started making any kind of demands, we would’ve been done within a month. I liked Emma fine, but we came from backgrounds too different to ever make the situation permanent. Plus, she was a bitch and not in the way that was entertaining.
I’d never had a hard time finding someone to take home, good genes made that part easy. I just hadn’t ever found someone I’d want to tie myself to. Being surrounded by incredible women my entire life had left me a bit jaded. I loved women, the way they moved and smelled and thought, but I was picky. If I didn’t want to bring one home to meet my mother, then she wasn’t it.
“You takin’ a nap?” my dad asked, startling the shit out of me.
“Fuck,” I barked, spinning to face him.
“Jumpy?” he asked with a laugh.
“I wasn’t payin’ attention.”
“Saw that. What’s goin’ on?”
“How’d you know Mom was it for you?”
Dad jerked back. “You got a woman?”
“Nope.”
He looked at me closely. “Uh-huh.”
“I don’t.”
“Right. Feels like I always knew, but if I had to pinpoint it, maybe it was when she took one look at this ugly mug and told me to stop bein’ a pussy, that the scar wasn’t that bad.”
I let out a choked laugh. Long before I was born my dad had been shot, and the scar bisected his face. I didn’t even notice it because it had always been there, but to say that it wasn’t that bad was not at all true. People had stared at him my entire life. He’d always had women throwing themselves at him, too, though, so maybe it was subjective.
“You’ll know,” my dad said, leaning against the car door. “When you don’t want to be without her. Not just physically. If you can’t imagine a future without her in it? That’s it.”
“Good to know.”
“You sure you got nothin’ to tell me?”
“Nothin’ to report,” I confirmed, climbing out of the car. The day was almost over, and I doubted I’d get much done anyway.
“If you want to settle down with someone, you better start lookin’,” Dad advised as we headed for the clubhouse. “You’re getting’ old as fuck.”
I laughed. “You sound like Ma.”
“She’s losin’ patience,” he joked, pulling out a cigarette.
“Thought she made you quit?”
“I don’t smoke at the house. Everywhere else is fair game.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Mind your own business,” he grumbled. “Your sister’s comin’ to dinner tonight if you wanna eat with us.”
“Harper’s in town?” My little sister traveled something like three hundred days of the year. Trying to pin her down was damn near impossible.
“For a week.” Dad nodded. “Practically a fuckin’ vacation.”
“Ma must be stoked.”
“She’s beside herself,” he replied, grinning.
“I’ll come for dinner.”
“She’s gonna shit herself,” he mused, pulling open the door. “Both her babies home at once.”
“You act like it never happens.” I paused inside, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom. The main room of the clubhouse was never very bright, but on days when the sun was out, it was really noticeable how dark it was inside. “We were there last month.”
Dad scoffed. “You hearin’ yourself right now?”
“Gray,” a sweet voice called from across the room. Lou hurried toward me, carrying a bag in her arms. “I was hoping you were here!”
“Hey,” I replied as Dad grinned beside me. It was hard not to smile at the woman. She was tiny as hell, full of energy, and beautiful in a really delicate way. Her hair was cropped short, which wasn’t something I was normally into, but Lou worked it.
“This is a little thank you from me and Frankie,” Lou chirped, shoving the bag at me. Her eyes widened, and she didn’t let go of it. “You don’t have any allergies, do you?”
“Pineapple,” I said slowly.
She let go of the bag. It was surprisingly heavy. “Oh, good. Nothing pineapple in there.”
“What is in there?” Dad asked in amusement.
“There’s a list,” Lou informed us. “So, you know what everything is. But—” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she counted off with her fingers. “Banana bread. Zucchini bread. Chocolate zucchini muffins. A yummy candle, I don’t remember which scent we gave you. Um, two jars of raspberry jam and three strawberry. Spicy pickled asparagus. Two applesauce. Oh, and a couple of joints.”
Dad let out a bark of laughter.
“I made most of the food,” Lou whispered, grinning. “Frankie contributed the weed and the candle. She said no one would be hungry enough for the treats unless they were high as hell.”
“Solid logic,” I murmured.
“She said it’s her favorite. I rarely partake, so I have no idea why—but she said it’s really good.”
“I’ll check it out,” I replied. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“We wanted to,” Lou replied, still smiling. “Thank you so much for helping us move.”
“Wasn’t that like two months ago?” my dad asked.
“Yeah, but we haven’t seen Gray since then,” Lou explained. “Everyone else got their thank you gifts ages ago.”
“How’s the house workin’ out?”
“It’s great,” Lou replied. “The sun porch is freaking awesome. You should come over soon! We’re having everyone over day after tomorrow for Frankie’s birthday. Come around six.” She waved her hand around. “Or earlier. Whatever. We’ll be there all night. I’ll make sure there are no pineapples in attendance.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Dad beat me to it.
“Bring your sister,” he ordered. “Be good for her to be around normal people.”
“You act like she works with aliens.”
“Might as well be.”
“Harper’s home?” Lou asked, her voice just a fraction lower than a squeal. “Yeah, tell her to come! I haven’t seen her in months.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Awesome! See you Friday!” She bounced out of the clubhouse. “Bye, Uncle Leo.”
“See you later, sweetheart.”
“Why does she call you uncle?” I asked, looking into the bag.
“Told her to when she was about twelve,” he said with a chuckle. “Myla brought her to a barbecue or somethin’. When I introduced myself, I said, ‘Hey, you can call me Uncle Leo.’ She’s never called me anythin’ else.”
“Great story,” I muttered, only half paying attention. Of course Frankie had been the one to put weed in the thank you basket. That tracked.
“Why are you avoidin’ them?” Dad asked as I set the bag on the bar top.
“I’m not.”
“She seemed surprised she hadn’t seen you.”
“I was around quite a bit with the Wanker shit,” I explained, pulling out the little package wrapped in purple tissue paper. “But that’s been calm for a while.”
“Poor kid. What a cluster.”
“No shit.”
“Gimme one of those,” he ordered, taking one of the joints. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Little Frankie knows her shit.”
“You want one?” I offered.
“Nah, those are yours. Let me check out the label, though. I wanna get some.”
***
Dinner with my parents and Harper went like it always did. My brainiac sister dodged questions about when she was going to find a job that didn’t take her away for most of the year, Ma walked around like she was living in a dream she didn’t want to wake up from, my dad watched her happily, and I just soaked it all in. All families had issues, and ours wasn’t any different, but we were luckier than most. My parents were still as enamored with each other as they’d been when they got together, and they fucking adored me and my sister. When I was a kid and my friends had bitched about their parents, I’d never had anything to contribute.
My mom bitched at me for leaving water all over the bathroom floor? Dad’s on my back about mowing the lawn like I’d promised a week ago? That was the extent of my experience.
I didn’t especially want to go to Francesca’s birthday Friday, but I still found myself headed over to pick up Harper and take her to the new house. When Dad had mentioned the party, Harper’s entire face had lit up. I hadn’t had the guts to tell her that she should go without me, not when she was so excited to see everyone.
“You look pretty,” I greeted as she strode out of the house.
“I couldn’t wear a dress since we’d be on the bike,” she complained.
“You could drive.”
“Then I wouldn’t be able to drink,” she countered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Plus, I haven’t shaved my legs in at least a month.”
“Who cares?”
“Don’t ever change,” she ordered with a smile.
It was always a funny sight to watch my nerdy as fuck sister casually yanking on a bike helmet. She looked like she should be driving around some kind of electric Smart car, but she’d grown up on the back of a motorcycle.
“This helmet sucks,” she called out, her voice muffled.
“Ma would kill me if you didn’t have a full face guard.”
“It presses my glasses against my cheeks,” she informed me as she climbed on the back. “It’s fucking annoying.”
“Big girl words,” I joked in mock surprise, making her jab me in the ribs with her thumb.
“Get a move on so we can get there, and I can take this thing off.”
“Stop whining.”
The ride to Lou and Frankie’s new house didn’t take long. Most of the club and their kids lived within fifteen minutes of each other in any direction, and Tommy kept his rental houses in that general area, too. He said he didn’t want to drive an hour to do maintenance when something inevitably when wrong.
“Oh, it’s cute!” Harper called out when the little blue house came into view, a couple of people standing out on the front porch. I just nodded.
I was pretty sure the boyfriend the boys had been discussing was watching us pull up. I couldn’t see anything wrong with him beyond the tight way he held his body. He didn’t look happy, and neither did Francesca.
Her eyes followed us as I parked. There wasn’t a lot of room, but thankfully, there were mostly just bikes parked out front, and it was easy to nose in between them. The boyfriend was saying something that we were too far away to hear, but she didn’t seem to be paying him any attention.
I stayed put while Harper climbed off, my gaze on Frankie.
“Cute house,” Harper called as she took off her helmet. “I love it!”
Frankie’s body visibly relaxed. “Harp! When the hell did you get back? Wait until you see the inside!”
Harper jogged toward them, but I took my time removing my helmet and making my way toward the house. By the time I got there, Frankie had pulled Harper inside and only the boyfriend was left on the porch.
“I’m Scott,” he said, sticking out his hand.
“Gray,” I replied, shaking it.
He gripped my hand tighter than was comfortable, but I ignored it. I wasn’t playing that game. Not only did I work with my hands and could crush the bones in his hand if I’d wanted, but I was also comfortable with the size of my dick and didn’t need to swing it around.
“Everyone’s inside,” he said, jerking his head toward the door. “Beer is in the coolers on the sun porch.”
Like he fucking lived there.
“Good to know,” I muttered, going inside.
The place was packed. There were people spilling out of the kitchen, sitting and standing around the living room, and talking loudly on the sun porch.
“Well, fuck me,” Rumi called from his place on the counter in the kitchen. His wife Nova was standing between his spread knees. “Gray’s here.”
I made my way through the crowd.
“Here,” he said, reaching into the sink and pulling out a beer. “Didn’t want to have to keep dragging my ass out back.”
He’d filled the sink with ice, and it was peppered with different drinks.
“It’s like ten feet,” Nova chided him with a smile. “Lazy ass.”
“Quiet, woman,” he ordered.
“You’re so tough,” she mocked him. “How do you possibly carry those huge balls around all the time?”
He choked and laughed as I took the beer from his hand.
“Hey, Gray,” Nova said, shooting me a smile. “How’ve you been?”
“No complaints,” I replied. “How’re you feelin’?”
“Like I could run a marathon,” she replied, setting a hand on her belly.
Rumi scoffed. “I tied your shoes this morning.”
“That says more about the dominance I hold in our relationship,” she dismissed him. She smiled at me. “I feel great now that I’m past the first trimester.”
“Good to hear.” I glanced around the room. There were plenty of people I didn’t know, but a lot more that I did. “How’s Bird?”
“My baby brother is excellent,” she replied. “Kicking ass and taking names as always.”
“Light on the ass kicking,” Rumi added. “Bird’s a lover, not a fighter.”
“Shit, Esther’s here?” I asked in surprise. Rumi’s brother Otto and his wife rarely went out. I couldn’t remember the last time they’d come to a party.
“Titus brought Noel, too,” Rumi confirmed. “Mick and Emilia are around her somewhere. All of us are here.”
“We wouldn’t miss Frankie’s birthday,” Nova said simply. “I doubt they’ll stay late, but they’d never skip it.”
Otto met my eyes from across the room and jerked his chin in greeting.
“Oh, sure,” Rumi called, as I moved away. “Just leave me for my brother, you whore!”
“You’re such a whiner.” Nova laughed.
“Hey, Gray,” someone called from across the room. I barely held back a wince as I waved to a woman I’d slept with almost a year ago. Shauna? Shanna? Something like that. Shit. I hoped she didn’t try to spark up a conversation.
“Mr. Popular,” Otto greeted, his arm around Esther’s shoulders. Neither of them looked entirely comfortable, but Esther was bobbing her head along with the music.
“Fuck off,” I replied. “Hey, Esther.”
“Good to see you,” she replied, grinning at me. “You should come over to the house soon for dinner. Ansel’s been asking when you’d be back.”
“I’ll bring him a radio to take apart,” I agreed. “Let me know when to be there.”
“Good, maybe he’ll stop messing with the kitchen appliances,” Otto said, his eyes on something across the room. “If you bring something for Ans, make sure you bring something for the girls, too, or you’ll hurt their feelings.”
“Have I ever brought only one of the kids a present?” I scoffed, turning my head to see what he was looking at.
Frankie and her boyfriend were arguing about something near the front door. She turned and hurried back toward her bedroom while he followed behind.
“Wonder what that’s about,” Otto said, frowning when I turned back toward him.
“Frankie can handle herself,” Esther reminded him, patting his chest.
“Shouldn’t have to,” Otto argued, straightening.
“You see that?” Rumi called from across the room.
“I saw it,” Otto called back.
“You guys are going to embarrass her,” Esther scolded. “They’re in a house full of people. Let her deal with it.”
“You know something I don’t?” Otto asked darkly.
“Of course not,” Esther replied, leaning into him. “No one tells me anything.”
“Bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.
“Where’d they go?” Bas asked, coming up behind me.
“Who?” Esther asked innocently.
“That asshole is basically begging me to snap his neck,” Bas mumbled.
I looked at him in surprise. “What’s goin’ on?”
“No idea,” he ground out. “But Lou wasn’t pleased when he showed up, and it takes a lot to get on her bad side.”
I was on the move before Esther could warn me to leave it alone. Weaving my way through the people, I strode down the short hallway to Frankie’s bedroom. The door was swung mostly shut, but I could hear them clearly.
“I told you not to come,” Frankie snapped. “I told you that it wasn’t your thing.”
“Why wouldn’t I come to my girlfriend’s birthday party?” the asshole countered. “That would be fucked up.”
“I told you it was fine.”
“Why didn’t you want me here? You have someone else showing up?”
Silence.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Frankie bit out.
“You know what I mean.”
“Fuck you ,” Frankie spat. “Don’t touch me.”
That was my cue. I pushed the door wide open.
Scott the douche was crowding Frankie between the bed and the wall on the other side of the room while she pushed at him.
“We got a problem here?” I asked, making her jolt in surprise.
“We’re good, man,” Scott snapped. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Francesca?” I asked, not even bothering to look at him.
“It’s fine,” she said, shoving past Scott. She stomped toward me. “Let’s go back to the party.”
“You sure?” I asked as she passed me. I took the time to look at Scott. His body was tense with anger, and he was scowling at me. Part of me hoped he’d start shit. I wouldn’t mind knocking his pretty boy ass out.
“Come on,” Frankie ordered, stopping a couple steps down the hallway. “It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”
I stared Scott down for a few more seconds before turning my back to follow her.
“What was that about?” I asked quietly as she took a deep breath.
“None of your business,” she muttered, striding back toward the living room.
“Francesca,” I growled, putting my hand on her arm to stop her.
The speed at which she jerked her arm away made me freeze.
“He’s got his panties in a twist because he doesn’t know anyone,” she said, turning her head to roll her eyes at me. “I told him he wouldn’t, but he didn’t listen, and now he wants me to entertain him, and I’m not interested in babysitting. Okay? No big deal.”
I let her walk away, and I made my way more slowly back to Otto.
“Good?” he asked.
“She’s fine,” I replied, watching Frankie as she crossed the room and stepped onto the sun porch. Myla was there, sitting on Cian’s lap, and both of them were watching Frankie closely. She waved her arms around dramatically, laughed, and reached for a beer in the cooler.
“Thought he was just boring,” Bas said flatly. “But I don’t know. Somethin’ about that guy is off. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“He’s too nice,” Esther said simply. We both looked at her in surprise. “No one is that nice. Not all the time.”
“Lou is,” Bas muttered.
“I’ve heard Lou tell Myla that a lady who cut her off at the grocery store was a heinous bitch who she hoped got both gonorrhea and dysentery so she’d uncontrollably shit her pants,” Esther replied, her lips twitching. “So.”
Bas laughed loudly. I grinned.
“No one that tries so hard to seem nice actually is nice,” Esther said quietly, watching as Scott came out of the hallway. “It’s a scam.”
Otto leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
I refused to look over my shoulder as Scott walked behind me to the sun porch.
“Gettin’ sick of this shit,” Bas mumbled, walking away.
“I think Frankie could take him,” Otto mused, watching the two of them. “Guy’s kind of scrawny.”
Esther huffed out a laugh and leaned against her much larger husband. “You want to make the rounds and head out soon? Bryony’s going to wake up in about an hour.”
Otto looked at me. “It’s like fuckin’ clockwork. Beginnin’ to think we’ll never get a full night of sleep.”
“You love it,” Esther teased.
Otto shot me a look that indicated he did not love it.
As they went off to say their goodbyes, I took time to say hello to the Aces around the room. None of the older generation were there, but considering the way they’d procreated like rabbits, there were a lot of the younger generation at the party. I ended up sitting with Harper and our cousins Olive and Meg for most of the night. The sisters were only about a year apart, and they bickered constantly, which meant that no one really noticed that I was saying even less than usual.
I was too busy keeping an eye on Frankie, who’d steadily gotten wasted as the hours passed. She was loud and bouncing around the party like she was having a great time, but something about the way she was laughing seemed brittle. No one else seemed to notice that the life of the party was trying a little too hard.
Eventually the crowd thinned to mostly family. Myla and Cian, Lou, Brody and Bas, Meg and Olive, Harper and me. We migrated to the sun porch with the rest of the group, and I took it in as I sat down in a lawn chair next to the cooler. None of the furniture out there matched, but it somehow seemed to all flow together well. An old wicker love seat with a floral cushion sat next to a bright yellow metal bench. In the corner was a neon green metal table and chairs. An old white daybed ran along the outer half wall beneath the windows, covered with throw pillows.
“You came,” Lou said, plopping down on the cooler.
“Couldn’t deprive you of Harper,” I replied, glancing at her. Did she notice that something was going on with Frankie? She didn’t seem concerned.
“Well, good,” Lou said with a drunken nod. “Frankie was really excited to see her.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep.” She hiccupped and leaned toward me. “I think it was a good party. You know, other than Slimy Scott.”
“You don’t like Scott, huh?”
Lou wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“What’d he do to piss you off?” I asked lightly.
“He’s pushy,” Lou said, her eyes on Brody as he burst to his feet and pounded his chest, making the women around him laugh hysterically. “He’s always here.”
“Frankie must be into it.”
“I don’t think so.” She burped and covered her mouth quickly. “Sorry.”
“She’s pretty hammered,” I commented as Frankie swayed from side to side next to the table. Her boyfriend sat in the chair next to her, talking to Olive and paying zero attention to his woman. I caught my cousin’s eye. Her face was emotionless. She wasn’t amused by whatever the guy was saying.
“I’ll take care of her,” Lou informed me. It didn’t fill me with comfort considering the hundred-pound pixie next to me looked like she was about to topple over. “And Bas is staying. Probably Brody, too. They usually crash out on the couch and the floor.”
I felt marginally better, knowing that the boys were staying, but I still hesitated when Harper told me an hour later that she was ready to leave. Meg had already dragged Olive away. Myla and Cian just had to walk across the street, but even they looked like they were ready to get going. If I insisted on staying longer it would look weird as fuck.
“Sure,” I said, pushing to my feet.
“Birthday girl,” Harper sang happily, opening her arms wide. “We’re leaving! Epic party. This is the most fun I’ve had in like a year.”
“Thanks for coming, Harp,” Frankie replied, half skipping and half stumbling over to us.
They collided in a tangle of drunken arms and unsteady feet but thankfully stayed vertical.
“Come see us again before you leave,” Frankie said quietly, her arms wrapped tight around my baby sister’s shoulders. “We miss you when you’re gone.”
“I will,” Harper said emphatically. “I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Frankie said, pulling away. She turned to me and gave a little half-wave. “Thanks for coming, Gray.”
“Happy birthday,” I replied, my guts clenching.
I didn’t want to fucking leave.
“Still too young?” she mocked with a laugh before spinning away.
“What?” Harper asked in confusion. She was quickly distracted by the line of hugs waiting for her. I waited patiently, trying not to look over at where Frankie had sat down on the boyfriend’s lap.
“Safe travels,” Bas said as we finally made our way to the front door.
“You’re stayin’ the night?” I asked quietly, following Harper.
“Yeah.” He gave a firm nod. “I always stay when they’re partyin’.”
“Always?” I asked in surprise.
“Only sometimes when they were livin’ with Cian, I guess. But two women plastered and livin’ alone?” He shook his head. “I can sleep on the fuckin’ couch for a night.”
“Good.”
I helped Harper out to my bike both wondering what the fuck was going on with Frankie and telling myself that it was none of my goddamn business. Yeah, I wasn’t happy her douche of a boyfriend was arguing with her at her own birthday party, but she’d chosen him. The woman was gorgeous and fun, she could’ve had almost any single guy I knew—and she’d chosen him.
I was a firm believer in people finding what they needed. From the outside, maybe you’d wonder why a man would stay with a woman who nagged him all the time, or why a woman would stay with a man that didn’t help her with shit—but you had no idea what went on behind closed doors or in those people’s heads. Whether it was healthy or not, maybe those couples needed that from each other to feel loved or safe or secure.
“I miss hanging out with everyone,” Harper said with a sigh as she rested her chin on my shoulder and her arms around my waist.
“Move home,” I advised.
I pulled out onto the road and tried to push thoughts of Frankie out of my head. It didn’t do anyone any good for me to concern myself with what she was doing. I had enough stress making sure that Harper wasn’t going to let go and fall off the damn bike as she chattered away inside her closed helmet, not realizing that I couldn’t hear a word she said. By the time we reached my parents’ house, I’d pivoted entirely from concern about Frankie to concern about Harper puking inside the helmet.
It wasn’t until weeks later that I’d realize that I should’ve turned around and gone straight back to Frankie’s that night.