Chapter 6
Gray
I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t stand the look in her eyes when she’d realized that Myla had told everyone she was missing. She’d been almost frantic as she grasped for some way to spin the day without telling everyone the truth. After her nap, she looked much better than she had when I’d picked her up, but there was still something fragile about her, and I didn’t think it was from her appointment that morning.
I left her in the camper to get her stuff together while I cleaned up the smoker and made sure it was covered for the night. She wasn’t ready to go back home, but she was doing it.
I hoped Myla had sent everyone home by the time we got there. Frankie didn’t need the third degree from everyone and their brother. They could ask their questions later when she had the energy and backbone to tell them to go to hell if she wanted.
My phone rang as Frankie stepped out of the camper.
“Hey, Ma,” I answered, watching her pause with her hand on the door.
“Sweet son of mine, I need my car back at some point.”
“I’ll drop it off tonight.”
Frankie let go of the door, swinging it shut behind her.
“You can just drop it at the club when you get your bike,” Mom replied. “I’ll ride in with your dad tomorrow morning and grab it.”
“You sure?”
“I hope you realize how nosy I want to be,” Ma mumbled. “But I’m not.”
“I’m aware.”
Frankie looked up, and our eyes met.
Mom sighed. “Love you. Put gas in the car before you bring it back.”
“Will do. Love you.”
I hung up the phone and let my hand drop down by my side.
“You ready?”
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“Let’s take the truck,” I said, moving toward her. No reason to cause more questions if we pulled up in my mom’s rig. I set my hand on her lower back and led her over, opening the door.
“You have a penis truck,” she said as she used the running board to get inside. As soon as she’d settled, she stuck her hand out, making the universal gesture for something small with her pointer finger and thumb.
“You’ve seen my dick,” I replied dryly, shutting her inside. The hard shell was already building up around her, and we hadn’t even left my place yet.
“You must be a grower, not a shower,” she continued as I climbed into my seat. “Have a hard time in the locker room?”
“Need the big truck to tow the camper.”
She was quiet for a few minutes as I turned the truck around and pulled onto the driveway. We were a few miles down the road when she spoke again.
“I haven’t had orthodontia,” she murmured. “Just good genetics, I guess.”
“Good to know.”
“And I don’t tuck my hair behind my ears because they’re too big, and they stick out, and it makes them more noticeable.”
“Who the hell told you that?”
“I can see them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your ears.”
“Says the guy whose ears are a respectable size and lay flat.”
I looked at her incredulously.
“I’m not wrong.”
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”
“I know.”
I smiled.
“Especially with my ears covered.”
The closer we got to her house, the more antsy she became. She shifted in her seat. Took ibuprofen without anything to wash it down. Straightened the hood on her sweatshirt. When she began to tap the center console with her fingers I reached out and covered her hand.
After a moment she turned her hand over and laced her fingers through mine.
I was playing a dangerous game.
Nothing had changed. Frankie was fun as fuck, and I liked pretty much everything about her, but she was still part of the Aces community, and things could get messy quick if I went there again. I’d already overstepped the line I’d drawn too many times to count. I needed to get my shit together.
Frankie was healing. A man she’d been dating had flagrantly abused her trust, and it had serious consequences that she’d dealt with alone. He continued to harass her. From the way she’d spoken about the situation, she hadn’t even realized yet that none of it was her fault. It would be a long time before she was ready to mess around with anyone else.
Starting something with her would be selfish and stupid as fuck.
Knowing all that, I still tightened my hand around hers.
When we pulled up in front of her house, Frankie let out a long breath. There weren’t any familiar cars out front beyond the ones that belonged there.
“Are you coming in?” she asked as I let go of her hand so I could parallel park on her street.
“You want me to?”
“No, that’s okay,” she said quickly.
“Francesca.” I waited until she looked at me. “You want me to walk you in?”
“It’s not like they’re going to attack me or something,” she said dryly, throwing open her door. “I’ve already taken over your entire day. It’s fine. You can go home. Thank you so much for—”
I shut the truck off and hopped out mid-sentence.
“You’re coming?” she asked in surprise when I met her on the other side of the truck.
“Let’s go,” I murmured, taking her hand as I locked up. I tugged her forward and led her up the sidewalk. I couldn’t exactly be her getaway driver if I didn’t know whether or not she needed one.
Lou was standing in the doorway by the time we reached the porch, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she breathed, catching Frankie around the waist. “I thought—I don’t even know what I thought. No one could find you.”
“I’m sorry,” Frankie whispered, curling her arms around Lou’s shoulders. “I figured you’d be at work and wouldn’t even realize I wasn’t here.”
So, she was still intent on hiding things. The whole reason she’d come to my house was because Lou had been home.
“I had a headache, so I came home early,” Lou said with a groan.
“I’m really sorry I worried you,” Frankie repeated as they pulled apart.
I followed them into the house and found Cian and Myla sitting on the couch.
“What the fuck is going on?” Myla asked, jumping to her feet as she looked between me and Frankie. “Decided on a little afternoon delight and couldn’t answer a single message?”
Shit. I knew before Frankie said a word that shit was about to go sideways.
“So now I need to be available to you twenty-four hours a day?” Frankie asked. “When did that start?”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“ I’m being an asshole?” Frankie laughed humorlessly. “You’re sitting here waiting on my couch to what? Chastise me? For not being home when you thought I should be home? For not answering my phone for a few hours?”
“We were freaked the fuck out,” Myla shot back. “Lou’s been trying to get a hold of you all day!”
“And I already apologized to Lou.”
“She wasn’t the only one who was worried.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that. She shouldn’t have even called you.”
“You should’ve answered your fucking phone.”
“I was asleep.”
“Drop the bullshit,” Myla said flatly, looking over at me. “We all know you weren’t sleeping.”
Frankie practically shook she was so angry. Taking a step forward, I set a hand on her hip to remind her I was there.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Frankie spat at Cian.
“Don’t talk to him like that!” Myla yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me? You’re the one who’s ambushing me in my own fucking house after I’ve had a really shitty day already.”
Myla looked at me. “Yikes, that must’ve stung.”
My hand slid further around Frankie’s waist as she took a step toward Myla.
“Since you’re so concerned,” Frankie ground out. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and I needed someone to pick me up, so I called Gray. We got lunch, and then I passed out at his house all afternoon.”
“Why couldn’t you drive yourself?” Lou asked in confusion. I met her eyes and shook my head.
“Good question, Lou,” Frankie said sarcastically. “Because when they give you meds that’ll make you groggy, they won’t let you drive afterward.”
“Why didn’t you call one of us?” Myla asked, gesturing between herself and Lou.
“Maybe because I didn’t want to deal with all of this bullshit.” Frankie threw her hands in the air.
“Oh, your friends caring about you is so hard, right?” Myla spat. “Poor Frankie.”
My jaw tightened, and I looked at Cian. I was all for letting Frankie fight her own battles, but they were reaching a point where I was going to step in. There was only so much she could take in one day.
“Fuck you,” Frankie yelled. “Go the fuck home.”
“I cannot believe this shit!” Myla’s hands curled into fists.
“Myla,” Lou said in warning, clearly picking up on something that Myla wasn’t seeing.
“You shouldn’t put up with this crap,” Myla said to Lou. She turned back to Frankie. “I know we usually let you do it—but you can’t just treat everyone like shit and then expect them to come crawling back for more. When people are worried about you, the correct response is to tell them you’re sorry for making them go out of their minds for hours thinking you were in a ditch somewhere.”
“It’s all about you,” Frankie shot back. “Always about Myla. How Myla feels about things. If it’s going to upset Myla. Well, maybe for once, I didn’t want to worry about your feelings.”
“Great,” Myla replied emotionlessly.
“Baby,” Cian murmured, rising to his feet.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t want my abortion to be about you ,” Frankie said, her tone just as flat.
Myla took a step back like she’d been slapped.
“Sorry I didn’t want to talk it over or boohoo about it. I didn’t want to explain how Scott the slimeball was pretending to wear condoms and then taking them off mid-fuck, or how I’d switched birth controls without fucking worrying about it because as far as I knew I was using other forms of contraceptives, or the fact that I had to wait days to find out if he’d given me an STI, and that was after I found out I was pregnant.”
“Frank,” Myla said softly, her face falling.
“No,” Frankie barked. “I’m so fucking selfish? Cool. Get out of my house then. This isn’t the part where we hug and make up. Fuck you.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Myla sputtered. “I didn’t—”
“Was I unclear about any of that?” Frankie asked Cian. “You can leave, too.”
She pulled away from my hand and strode down the hallway and out of sight.
“You knew?” Myla asked, her eyes filling with tears.
“Saw her at the clinic the first time. Drove her home afterward.”
“That’s why you cleared out the protesters,” Cian murmured under his breath.
“You guys should probably go,” Lou whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the kitchen. “I’ll call you in a while, okay, My?”
Myla nodded as Cian led her out of the house.
Lou turned to me as soon as they were gone. “I shouldn’t have called around. I was just getting really worried when I hadn’t heard from her. With Scott showing up here all the time, I thought maybe he’d done something or—”
“She’s not mad at you,” I assured her. “It’s been a long day.”
“I had no idea,” Lou muttered, pressing her fingers against her eyes. “I knew about the Scott stuff, but after the STI screening came back clean I thought it was over.”
“I don’t think she was plannin’ on tellin’ anyone.”
“Why? I mean, she knows we would’ve supported her.”
“I didn’t want this to be some defining moment for me,” Frankie said, standing at the end of the hallway. “Because it wasn’t. It was an unfortunate situation that I took care of. That’s it. I didn’t need support. I didn’t need hand holding.”
“I still wish you would’ve told me.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”
“I’m sorry I got everyone all worked up about you being missing. I fucked up,” Lou said with a grimace.
“You didn’t. I love you for worrying enough about me that you called in the goon squad. I should’ve texted you to let you know I wouldn’t be home today. I just didn’t want to explain everything, so I was putting it off.”
“Let’s just make a deal, if one of us isn’t going to be home we let the other one know—no questions asked. If you want to tell me why, cool. If not, no worries.”
“That works for me,” Frankie said.
“But we should probably have a code word or something,” Lou mused, tapping her finger on her chin. “So we know it’s you or me and not some psycho with our phones.”
“You two worried about bein’ kidnapped?” I asked, my lips twitching as I held back a smile.
“Try being a woman for a day ,” Lou replied, still tapping her finger with a faraway look in her eye. “Then come back to me with that question.”
“What about yankee doodles ?” Frankie asked with a smile.
“That works.” Lou dropped her hand. She looked over at me and then at Frankie. “So, what’s going on here?”
“We’re friends,” Frankie replied before I’d even formulated an answer. “Besties. BFFs.”
“That’s an interesting turn of events,” Lou said blandly as she walked over and dropped down onto the couch.
“Gray’s a good man to have in your corner.” Frankie shot me a smile as she shuffled over and sat on the opposite end of the couch.
“You’re one of us now?” Lou asked.
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You’re one of us,” she clarified. “So, I have to ask—”
“You really don’t,” Frankie muttered, like she already knew what the question was.
“Your mother actually, in real life, no shit, named you Gray White?” She widened her eyes at me.
“Jesus, Lou,” Frankie dropped her head back against the couch.
“What? It’s a serious question!”
Frankie patted the couch beside her, so I sat down instead of looming over them.
“No, she named me Grayson Leo Phillips.”
“Wait, what?” Lou asked in confusion. “Phillips?”
“Lily isn’t his birth mom,” Frankie supplied helpfully.
“Jesus, today is full of surprises,” Lou exclaimed. “Go on.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that came out of my mouth. “My mother’s last name was Phillips. When I was born, my parents agreed I would have her last name—not sure she gave my dad much of a choice—so my last name was Phillips. After she died, my dad changed my name to Grayson Phillips White so shit wasn’t confusing for me at school and all that.”
“Okay, that makes way more sense.”
“I’ve heard it all before. Kids thought it was funny as hell.”
“I bet. Poor little Gray.”
Frankie yawned and pulled her legs up and curled them under her.
“Movie?” Lou asked. “I’ll get drinks.” She shot up from the couch and hurried to the kitchen.
“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” Frankie informed me. “Even after that nap, I’m beat.”
“You’re healing.”
“Thanks for staying.”
“Not sure I did anythin’ to help.”
“Just knowing you were there helped,” she replied softly. “It’s all good now, if you want to go.”
I traced the lines of her face with my eyes. She looked tired, yes, but she was still fucking breathtaking. My stomach sank. I’d been reminding myself of all the reasons it wouldn’t work with her, but I was already past the point of no return. Somewhere between kissing against the wall in the clubhouse and watching her put too much lemon juice on her fish and chips that afternoon, I’d walked right into it without realizing. I was fucking gone for her.
“Don’t have anywhere to be,” I replied, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Frankie’s lips tipped up as her eyes filled with relief, and she flipped her hair out from behind her ear.
“Okay, I got everyone sodas,” Lou announced, carrying them back into the living room. “I think we should do a rewatch, since everyone’s had a hell of a day. Any ideas?”
Lou and Frankie debated while Lou turned out all the lights. When she finally sat down, Frankie turned on some movie that I was pretty sure I’d seen years before with my sister. For the first half an hour they made comments and spoke in sync with the actors until Frankie’s head started drooping, and she leaned it against my shoulder. Fifteen minutes later, she was out.
“Oh good,” Lou said, leaning around me to look at her best friend. “She passed out.”
“Not surprisin’,” I murmured.
“I’m going to turn this off if it’s cool with you. I just requested a movie night because I knew she’d fall asleep anyway.”
“Go ahead,” I replied quietly.
Lou rose to her feet and circled the couch so she could grab the remote Frankie had set on the arm of it. “If you want to just lay her out, she can sleep out here tonight.”
“I’ll carry her into her room.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure her bedroom door’s open.”
Carefully inching away from Frankie, I kept one hand on her as I rose to my feet so she wouldn’t fall over. Sliding an arm under her legs and the other behind her back, I lifted her from the couch. Because that shit never happens like in the movies, she woke up instantly.
“What are you doing?” she asked groggily, whipping her arms around my neck and hanging on for dear life.
“Movie’s over, baby. I’m bringin’ you to bed.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered, laying her head down.
She’d already slid her shoes off at some point, so I laid her directly on the sheets and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders as she curled into a ball on her side. She was going to roast in those sweatpants and hoodie, but I figured that was a problem for later.
“Gray?” she called, grabbing my hand as I straightened.
“What’s up?”
“Thank you for today. You’re the best.”
I brushed her hair back from her face. “Get some sleep.”
Her hand loosened on mine, and I set it gently back on the bed and left the room. Lou was waiting for me in the kitchen, the lights back on.
“Thank you for taking care of her today,” she said. “No matter what she says, that was still a medical procedure that she did alone and without anyone knowing. I know she’s independent to a fault, and she wants everyone to believe that she’s hard as nails, but…it could’ve gone really bad if she hadn’t had anyone to talk to.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. If I said you’re welcome , it would seem like I’d done it for Lou—which I hadn’t. If I tried to downplay it, she’d argue. I’d seen her do it enough times with other people.
“I’m gonna head out.”
“I’ll see you later,” Lou said, grabbing a couple of cups off the counter and setting them in the sink.
“Lock the door behind me.”
“I will.”
I left the house and brought my truck back to my place. It probably would’ve been smarter to just drive my ma’s SUV to work in the morning and then ride home, but it always made me feel twitchy when my bike wasn’t easily accessible. I filled up my mom’s rig and brought it out to the clubhouse and was surprised to see that there were a few people hanging around.
It was still early, so I went inside to check it out.
“Grandson,” my Grandpa Dragon greeted from the bar. He was my dad’s dad, and more than one person had told me that I looked just like him. I figured I’d be lucky if I still looked the way he did by the time I was his age.
“What are you old timers doing out?” I joked as I headed toward them.
“Your grandmothers and Aunt Callie went out to dinner without us,” my Grandpa Casper answered, leaning his elbows against the opposite side of the bar. “So, we all ended up here.”
“Why didn’t you guys go to dinner yourselves?” I asked, settling onto a barstool.
“Fuck that,” Grandpa Dragon replied. “We ordered shit and had it delivered.”
“Amateur,” Uncle Grease huffed, gesturing at me.
“To each his own,” I murmured.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Grandpa Casper asked. “Shouldn’t you be out sowing your oats and raisin’ hell?”
“Too old for that shit.”
All of them laughed.
“Borrowed my mom’s rig earlier, and I brought it back so she could pick it up in the mornin’.”
“Don’t you have a truck?”
“Truck wasn’t here when I needed it. Ma’s was.”
“Fair enough,” Grandpa Casper replied.
“You know anythin’ about Myla’s little friend goin’ missin’ today?” Uncle Grease asked. “Tommy called askin’ if anyone had seen her, but we didn’t hear anythin’ else about it.”
“She was never missin’, just not answerin’ her phone. She’s fine.”
“Oh, good,” Uncle Grease said with a nod. “Figured I woulda heard somethin’ if they still hadn’t found her.”
Grandpa Dragon was staring at my face.
“What?” I asked, smoothing down my short beard. I needed to shave, but I’d been too lazy.
“You tell me.”
“Nothin’ to tell.”
“There’s somethin’ to tell,” he countered. “You’ve been makin’ that same face since you were three feet tall whenever you were tryin’ to hide somethin’.”
“Frankie was at my place,” I replied shortly. It had always been irritating as hell that he could see through me so easily.
“You’re fuckin’ Myla’s little friend?” Grandpa Casper asked in surprise.
“She’s twenty-five years old.”
The old men guffawed.
“And I’m not fuckin’ her.”
“And now you’re lyin’,” Grandpa Dragon said with a scoff. “Christ, kid.”
“Why the fuck do any of you care?”
“Because it’s entertainin’ as hell,” Uncle Grease replied. “Bumblin’ idiots, all of you.”
“I’m not fuckin’ her,” I repeated through my teeth. “She’s dealin’ with some shit—”
“I’ve heard this story before,” Grandpa Casper said, looking at Uncle Grease. “You heard this one before?”
“Too many times to count,” Uncle Grease replied dryly.
“She’s a friend,” I said, getting to my feet. I was too fucking old to get teased by a bunch of old men about my love life. They were too fucking old to even care about who was in my bed.
“Pretty wound up about a girl that’s just a friend,” Grandpa Dragon said seriously.
“I’m outta here,” I said, turning to leave. “I love all of you fuckers.”
“Love you, too,” Grandpa Casper called.
“Same,” Uncle Gasper added.
Grandpa Dragon didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the type to announce that shit to the world. He’d told me that he loved me more times than I could count, but it was never in a public setting. He’d said it when he’d helped me put the chain back on my bike in fifth grade. The night before I started kindergarten, and I was shitting my pants scared. When I’d wrecked my mom’s car at sixteen because some asshole had pulled out in front of me, and I hadn’t had time to stop. The day I’d quietly graduated from college. The first time I took him out to see my new property.
His declarations of love were private. They weren’t throwaway words or used lightly. When he said shit, you knew he meant it.
I rode until the wind and the feeling of the bike eating up the road relaxed me enough I knew I could sleep. Realizing that I was into Frankie in a way I wasn’t sure I could ignore worried the hell out of me. Recognizing that the age difference between us had been a bullshit excuse to keep myself away from her…was uncomfortable.
I’d parked my bike and was unlocking the camper when my phone rang.
Staring at the screen, I debated not answering it. Like an asshole.
“Thank you for today,” Frankie said without a greeting, her voice husky and low. “I know I keep saying it, but you’ve gone above and beyond. You’re the best.”
“Thought you were sleepin’,” I replied, climbing inside the dark trailer.
“I woke up right after you left because I got way too hot,” she replied. Blankets rustled.
She was vulnerable. She’d had an eventful and traumatic day. And I was a creep because I couldn’t stop wondering about what she was wearing.
“Thought you might,” I said, setting my keys and wallet on the counter. “With all those blankets on the bed.”
“I have the perfect amount of blankets,” she stated firmly. “Are you home now?”
“Just got back. Had to drop my mom’s rig at the club.”
“Why didn’t you just take your truck earlier?”
“Truck was at the house,” I explained, turning on the speakerphone as I pulled off my cut and hoodie. “Mom’s was at the club.”
“Oh.”
“It was no big deal,” I assured her as I pulled off my boots and jeans, stuffing the latter into the laundry bag I kept in the shower. “She and my aunt met up there, and they’d already left in Aunt Rose’s Jeep. She’d rather ride home with my pop anyway.”
“There is something to be said about riding on the back of a motorcycle,” Frankie replied, a smile in her voice. “That would be my choice, too.”
“Oh yeah?” I paused with my hand on the thermostat.
“I love it,” Frankie murmured. “But I always liked dirt bikes as a kid, too. My dad bought me one that was way too big, and my feet couldn’t even touch the ground at the same time. I didn’t give a shit, though. I grew into it eventually, and I swear I rode it into the ground.”
“What kind of bike?” I asked curiously as I climbed into bed.
The pillows smelled like Frankie’s shampoo.
Sinking into them I pulled the phone back to my ear.
We talked late into the night like a couple of teenagers about everything and nothing important. What we’d been into as kids. What our parents were like. Family traditions. How much trouble we’d gotten into as teenagers. Our first cars. Favorite foods. The list was extensive and detailed.
Which is why I was so surprised when I didn’t hear a word from her again for nearly a month.