12. Chapter 12 #2
Evan turned to see her watching them, still in her usual pub attire.
It was as if she hadn’t taken a break from work earlier and gone to get all sweaty.
She looked very well put together, albeit tired perhaps.
Her long hair was down, and once again, her jacket was off.
Evan zeroed in on the several open buttons on her blouse, giving them an ample view of her cleavage.
“I can exchange them if they don’t fit, but I think I matched your style correctly.” Frankie leaned her head against the doorframe, soaking Evan up with a tired smile.
“I …” Evan trailed off, swallowing past the growing lump in their throat.
Their gaze dropped back to the bags, where one hand was subconsciously tracing the fabric of the pajama pants.
They couldn’t remember the last time they’d worn new threads, let alone been given anything by anyone.
Had it really been the wallet Caleb gave them?
But that was … seven years ago. So much had happened during that time.
Most of it had been spent locked up, and inside the prison walls, the only “gift” Evan had been grateful for was the choice of trading sex for protection.
Some of the inmates never got that option. Some fucking gift that was.
But what would it say about them if they accepted Frankie’s generosity? Evan’s cheeks and throat flushed hot, and they reached up to rub the back of their neck. They didn’t look at Frankie as they mumbled, “Thank you.”
I’ll throw them away when this is over. It’s just part of the act , they thought as they lifted the pajamas out of the bag. But they knew they wouldn’t, and it wasn’t.
“Try them on for me.”
Frankie’s demand was laced in silk and drenched with innuendo, and Evan’s body instinctively responded to the gentle direction.
Breathing became a challenge, and a sort of yearning clawed at them from the inside.
Their gaze met Frankie’s almost helplessly, watching her eyes darken as if she’d read the room and knew exactly what was happening.
“Try them on, Evan. Show me what a great job I did choosing your clothes.” Frankie’s tongue darted out to lick her lips, and then she turned around so that her back faced Evan. “Go ahead, honey. I promise not to peek.”
“Okay,” Evan heard themself murmur, and it was like they were having an out-of-body experience.
There was no other reason for it, because if they were in their right mind, stripping in front of Frankie wouldn’t have crossed it.
Even so, Evan found themself removing their sweater and binder too, so that they could rip off the tags and feel the new clothes against their skin.
Emotion clogged their throat at Frankie’s kindness.
By the time they were fully dressed in the long-sleeved thermal top and flannel pajama bottoms, their eyes were misting with tears. “You can turn around.”
Frankie did, at once picking up on Evan’s mood.
Her arrogant once-over did a one-eighty, her face pinching in concern.
She crossed the room in three long strides, her hand reaching for Evan’s.
The shock of her touch on Evan’s skin was nothing like they’d have expected.
In fact, on the plane ride to Vancouver, Evan had daydreamed of the many violent things they vowed to do if Frankie ever touched them.
They weren’t expecting a temporary loss of their independence and function of their limbs.
God help them, but they melted into her touch.
“What’s wrong?” Frankie’s lips were parted as she stared down at them. Her thumb caressed Evan’s skin. “Were you not okay with …” She paused, imploring gaze fixed on Evan’s. She swallowed as if she’d just considered something she wasn’t okay with. “If you weren’t okay with me—”
“No one’s given me gifts like this before. That’s all,” Evan admitted, their stomach bottoming out at the honesty. What possessed them to speak their mind in front of Frankie? She was the enemy .
“Well, no one has appreciated one of my gifts as much as you, so thank you.” One sculpted eyebrow raised, and a teasing grin appeared on Frankie’s face. “At least, not one of my G-rated gifts.”
“You’re pathetic. A child.”
Frankie didn’t need to say it; Evan could read in between the lines. It was humiliating how in their feelings they got over something so simple. Especially considering who it was from.
“That outfit looks wonderful on you,” Frankie whispered, pulling Evan from their misery. They swallowed, blushing under Frankie’s slow exploration of their body. Her eyes met Evan’s, lips curling in a flirtatious smile. “I didn’t think anyone could make a set of pajamas look so good.”
Whelp, there went their cheeks again, flooding with intense heat at Frankie’s rapt attention. They averted their gaze to the hands still joined, considering pulling away.
“Have a good sleep, Evan,” Frankie said, and before Evan could respond, Frankie’s lips were grazing their cheek with a light kiss. She straightened, her smile widening at what Evan was sure was their gaping mouth and silently left the room.
Oh my god.
Evan flopped backwards onto the mattress, covering their face with an arm and groaning.
What have I done?