Chapter 18 #3
“Why don’t you come back with us tonight?” Bianca asks, as they gather up their things. “Julie’s back on the road and we have a spare bed and you won’t have to go back to an empty house.”
“I’ve been going back to an empty house for a while now, even when he was there.
Thanks, but no, I . . . I have a ton of stuff to finish up here and an aging catcher to rake over the coals, and then I should go home and purge the entire place of anything that reminds me of Shane.
Besides, you guys only have so many nights left together; I don’t want to intrude on that. ”
“Right,” Bianca says with a sigh. “Clock’s ticking.”
“Have you discussed . . .” Frankie trails off when Bianca gives her a sharp head shake. “Okay, but if you need someone to talk to about it, I’m here.”
“Obviously,” Bianca says.
Frankie’s phone buzzes in her hand and she stares down at the notification for so long Bianca can’t help but glance at it. It’s Shane . . . he’s going live right now.
“Oh, this is . . . the least healthy thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I . . .” Frankie starts to protest. “Yeah . . . I’m just torturing myself.”
“Give me your phone,” Bianca says, holding out her hand.
“What?”
“Your phone. I’m going to block him everywhere.”
Frankie sighs, but hands it over and Bianca’s thumbs fly over the screen until the job is done.
“You don’t need to see that crap, even by accident. You are amazing and deserve the world. I love you, best friend.”
Frankie grins, pulling her into a hug. “Love you too, best friend.”
“You really gonna buy Frankie’s place?” Xavier asks when they get home, Amelia twining around his ankles and then hers before retreating straight back to her cushion.
“Maybe. It’s so cute and the neighborhood’s nice and it’s just the right size for me, you know?”
“The perfect place to start your new life.”
“Exactly.”
“You were amazing today.”
She wants to ask him, wants to know if he meant what he said about her, about how he said he feels.
It . . . didn’t feel like a lie, even though she thought it at the time and she knows him well enough by now, knows what it sounds like when he’s not telling the whole truth, when he’s not sure of his facts, but the way he spoke about her to Frankie . . . that felt . . . real.
“It’s nice, you know?” he says, as she follows him into the bedroom. He tosses his Dodger hat onto the top of her dresser and then pulls his shirt up over his head.
“What is?” she asks, as she lets down her hair. It’s been a long-ass day. They were up and out before the sun had a chance to peek over the horizon and it’s way past set now after the long drive home from Chavez Ravine.
‘That you’re the person they all go to when things get hard,” he clarifies, shucking off his jeans and heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When had his toothbrush migrated to her bathroom? She can’t even remember.
“What?” she asks and waits patiently for him to spit before he answers.
“Your friends – you’re their first call, always, when they need someone. You’re their person.”
“I . . . guess so,” she responds, following his lead and brushing her own teeth.
“You don’t think so?”
She takes her time, thinking it over, and yeah, maybe it’s true.
She’s the one Erik calls when he needs help with the twins and who Chloe came to when things blew up with Josh and who Julie wrote a song about for sticking by her side through her ups and downs and who .
. . who Frankie basically wants to give her house to, just for being her friend.
She’s their person and they’re hers. It’s like Xavier said. It’s nice.
“I never thought about it that way before, or really at all,” she says, wriggling out of her shorts, fully intending to sleep in the oversized Dodgers shirt Frankie gave her a few hours ago.
“I wish I had more of that.”
“What?” she asks, reaching underneath her shirt and unhooking her bra, pulling it through the sleeve and letting it drop to the floor.
“People.”
“You don’t like people,” she reminds him, tying her curls up at the top of her head. She’ll deal with them tomorrow.
“I like you ,” he corrects her.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Like you said, I forced my way in.”
“Nah,” he admits, “no one gets through those walls unless I let them.”
“Why?” The question is out before she can stop it, but now that she’s asked, she’s desperate to know. “Why did you?”
“I couldn’t help it . . . didn’t want to help it, even if I could. You made me feel . . .”
“What?” she asks when he trails off.
“Challenged.”
“Oh God.”
“In a good way, the best way, you know that, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it weird, that I’m . . . I’m glad we did this?” she asks.
“What?”
“The fengagement. I’m . . . glad we did it, even if it was stupid and reckless. And even though I’m pretty sure I’m going to be dealing with the fallout from it for a long-ass time, it’s been good.”
“Not over yet,” he says, sending her a grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“No, not yet,” she agrees.
“C’mon, let’s go to bed.”
She sighs as soon as she’s under the covers and he curls his body around hers, offering up his chest as a pillow.
They don’t even have the excuse of someone else using the guest bedroom.
Julie’s gone and will be for months as the tour makes an East Coast swing, but what’s the difference now, she might as well take advantage of the time they have left.
“Gonna miss this,” she says into the warm skin at his collarbone, relishing the way goosebumps rise in the wake of her lips, the scent of him, with just a hint of salt remaining after their morning in the ocean.
His arms tighten around her and she feels the gentle pressure of a kiss being pressed into the top of her head. “Me too, boss. Me too.”