Chapter Three
ADDISON
I’ve tried on three different outfits already and I don’t feel confident in any of them. Which is frustrating, because I packed all of my favorite, most confidence-inspiring outfits for this trip.
With a huff, I toss on a pair of frayed jean shorts and another slouchy tee, this one white with “here for the girls, gays, and theys” printed on the front.
I twist it up on one side and tuck it into my shorts, then thread a hot pink belt through the loops.
Flip flops and a floppy sunhat with my heart-shaped sunglasses complete the look.
If I can’t achieve confident, then I might as well be comfortable.
Moose, my sister’s black lab mix, is already dancing around my legs, eager to go out after being cooped up all day yesterday.
“What do you think, my sweet Moosie Goosie?” I ask him.
His ears perk and his tail whacks my shins.
“Ow, you gotta watch it with that thing.”
He doesn’t, and his tail proceeds to thwack the door as I snap on a leash. I figure that’s got to hurt, but he doesn’t seem phased, so what do I know?
“Alright. Walk and then work, yeah?”
His tongue flops out as he pants up at me, which I take for agreement, and we set out for a stroll.
I take him on a roundabout path along the river and then into downtown Stone Ridge.
There’s only one main road and a couple side streets, with many of the same shops that were here when I was growing up.
I didn’t get a chance to do much in town when I was here a few months ago, so it’s nice to take my time now.
A bittersweet heaviness sinks into my chest at seeing how little has changed as I take my time wandering up and down the paths I used to know by heart.
It makes me wonder when this stopped being home, and if it ever could be again.
Everyone seems to know Moose, and he seems to know all the people who stop to give him pets and treats, plus where all the water bowls are.
Before I know it, he’s pulling me through a propped open door and then we’re standing inside Roasted Coffee House.
I blink and take off my sunglasses, but Moose is still yanking on his leash.
When I look up to see where he’s trying to go, I come face to face with Frankie. All glorious messy curls and tattooed forearms, wearing an apron as they drop muffins into a pastry box. They glance up and their crooked smile punches me right in the chest.
I can’t help but grin in response, but my joy feels too big, out of proportion, so I bite my lip in an attempt to contain it.
They give me a chin nod while angling their head at the empty table near the counter with a quirked eyebrow.
Moose is already tugging me that direction, clearly knowing where he’s going, so I figure it must be okay to have him in here.
The customer leaves, and Frankie snags a towel to wipe down the counter. Then they throw it over their shoulder as they saunter toward me, black combat boots scuffing the wooden floor.
“Hey Addison,” they say.
My tongue feels thick in my mouth. This has never happened to me before. I have great social skills, I can talk to anyone about anything. I’m bubbly and cheerful and fun, everyone says so! So why can’t I talk to this one person?
They drag their teeth over their bottom lip and I’m pretty sure they’re trying not to laugh. My cheeks heat and I cover them with my palms.
“You good?” Frankie says.
I clear my throat, then nod, but I still can’t speak..
“Right, okay. So I’m gonna snag some more to-go cups to restock behind the counter, then I’ll be back and we can try again. Yeah?” they say, and I nod again, perhaps a bit frantic this time.
“Cool,” Frankie says, spinning on their heel and striding to the back room.
I drop my hands from my face as soon as they disappear from view, then knock my forehead down on the edge of the table. I literally didn’t say one word so Frankie had an entire one-sided conversation. Moose looks up at me with concern in his big brown eyes.
“I know. I’m an idiot,” I whisper to him.
His tail wags.
I take it as encouragement rather than agreement this time.
When I hear the back door open, I suck in a breath and sit up, refusing to rub my forehead or otherwise look like a fool in front of Frankie again.
They’re not looking in my direction, though.
Their arms are full, muscles flexed under rolled t-shirt sleeves as they carry two boxes behind the counter and drop them to the floor, then nudge them aside so they have room to help the waiting customer.
I try to think of a plan to get over this weird crush. But maybe I don’t need to get over it. I’m pretty sure they were flirting with me again, which doesn’t make sense after they rejected me a few months ago. Maybe they’re a super flirty person and they flirt with everyone.
I decide that must be it, which makes me feel much better, actually. It’s not anything to do with me, which means this can be a normal situation. Normal I can do. Normal, I’m great at.
Frankie glances my direction and seems to realize I’m over my weird moment. With a quick grin, they step over and slide into the chair next to me, angling it so they’re facing the entrance and can also see the counter.
I decide to speak first this time.
“I’d like to pay you back for yesterday,” I say .
Frankie’s hazel eyes sparkle. “Yeah? For what?”
“The ride,” I say, twisting my hands together in my lap. “I really appreciate it and you saved me a ton of time and money. The least I can do is pay you back.”
“Pfft,” Frankie waves me off with a huff. “I don’t need or want your money, sweets.”
“Okay well, can I help out here or something then? I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”
I think I might be pouting, and based on the fact that Frankie’s eyes are focused on my mouth, it might be working.
“And how do you propose making it up to me?” they say, gaze slowly wandering back up to meet mine.
The first thing that pops into my head is definitely not appropriate, and my cheeks heat again at the thought. Their eyes flare the tiniest bit when they dart to my reddened cheeks. So much for being normal, for being in control this time.
“I could…” I trail off, eyes flitting around for any idea that doesn’t involve shedding our clothes. “I could help out around here?”
“You know how to make lattes?”
‘Well, no.”
“Can you bake?”
“Um, I mean,” I trail off again with a heavy exhale as I slouch in my seat.
No, I don’t know how to do anything that might be considered helpful at a coffee shop.
Frankie notices my deflation and their eyes widen again.
They sit forward and reach one hand toward me, but drop it with a frown when they notice the movement.
“I guess you could always help clean up,” they say, then their face transforms with a smirk. “I assume you do know how to use a washrag, at least?”
“Uh,” I huff. “Obviously.”
Of course I know how to clean, I’m a grown adult. Just because I used to be a spoiled brat doesn’t mean I still am. I grumble under my breath.
Frankie laughs, loud and unrestrained, the same as I remember it.
“Did you just growl? That’s cute,” they say, still chuckling, and I flush again, but their laugh and smile are contagious. I grin back, then reach out a hand to playfully smack their arm.
They track the movement with their eyes, which are bright when they meet my gaze again.
“You just might pay for that someday,” they say, and my lower stomach clenches at the husky note in their voice.
“Extra hours?” I quip, and they chuckle again.
“Extra something.”
Frankie chews the corner of their mouth, then lightly slaps their hand on the table.
“Well, I gotta get back to it. You working while you’re in town?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “I couldn’t afford to take the whole week off, so I’m still on the clock a few hours each day. I should probably get back so I can log on.”
Frankie nods.
“If you want to get out of the house, you’re always welcome to work here.”
I glance up from where I was untangling Moose from his leash.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah, sweets. No point in spending the next week alone if you don’t have to,” Frankie says, whistling as they turn and saunter back behind the counter.
I duck my head to hide my answering grin, unsure where this bashful side of me is coming from.
I haven’t felt this way since… well, maybe middle school.
I can’t remember, to be honest. And being given a nickname, especially from someone I like and admire, feels good.
It makes me feel accepted, like I belong here.
~~~
When I get back to Everly’s place and Moose has settled down, I kick back on the couch with my laptop. It’s hard to turn my thoughts to work after the conundrum that is Frankie, but as usual, my email has several new notifications.
I click through them, deleting, replying, and sorting as needed, until I come to one from Benji. My lips pinch and my heart stalls in my chest.
I’ve told him over and over not to send me private emails, and I always copy both his manager and mine on any replies I have to send to him. He doesn’t seem to care though, continuing to email me for the smallest, most asinine reasons.
Benji and I dated a few years ago, and at first after we broke up everything was fine, even though we work together.
It was mutual, and we agreed to stay professional, not to let it impact our interactions or quality of work.
When I started dating Sabrina a few months later though, he began to change his tune.
He was still polite enough, but everything he said or did had an undercurrent to it. A pinch of passive aggression here, a sarcastic or snide comment there. Always laughed off, and never enough to bring to HR.
I dated Sabrina for about two years, only breaking it off last December when I caught her cheating on me—with Benji.
I don’t know for sure how long that had been going on, but I suspect about six months, as that’s when his behavior got drastically worse.
He started making inappropriate jokes and suggestive comments about threesomes with me and Sabrina, then would tell me to “loosen up” or “take it easy” when I got upset.
He always believed I was overly sensitive and loved to tell me so.
I know now that my relationship with him was never healthy, but at the time I was young and inexperienced.
He was easy to date since we worked together and had the same schedule.
I think it was when Sabrina started seeing him on the side that things got bad.
I wasn’t able to put it together until after the fact, though.
A few weeks after I broke up with her, she showed up on my doorstep. Tearful and full of regret, she asked if we could try again. I almost said yes. I was two seconds from giving in, when she said his name.
She said, “I miss you, and Benji does too.”
Apparently, they both wanted me back. She’d already tried this tactic when I caught her cheating: saying we could be a trio, that all three of us together would make the perfect “throuple,” even going to far as asking me to “just give a threesome a try.” I don’t have anything against poly relationships, but what I am against is cheating, manipulation, and toxic communication. All of which they excel at.
I said no—again—but apparently neither of them understand that word.
Six months later, Sabrina still texts me multiple times a week.
Sometimes just to tell me what she’s up to, but other times to ask if I’ve reconsidered.
She pleads with me to take her back, to take them both back, telling me that the three of us together would be a dream come true.
Then I have Benji at work sending me completely unnecessary emails every day, I’m pretty sure just to have any excuse to reach out to me.
He texts sometimes too, though thankfully not as often as Sabrina.
His are so over the top now it would be almost comical if I wasn’t being harassed.
Telling me I’m “the one” and that he doesn’t want to move forward without me being part of their relationship.
I’ve never shown any interest in ethical non-monogamy, being part of a poly relationship, or even a threesome, so I truly have no idea where they got the idea that I’d be interested, but it seems neither of them can let it go.
I used to answer them, but I don’t anymore. Now I ignore the messages when I can, and if it’s something I need to address for work, I ensure others are on the email chain. It’s been months of the same, and instead of giving up, they keep getting more persistent.
So when I see another email from him, not even one day into my vacation, I nearly snap. I let out an unintelligible yell of frustration, startling poor Moose out of a dream. I huff with annoyance at myself, then decide puppy pets are exactly what I need.
I delete the pointless email, set my laptop aside, then slide down to the floor next to Moose.
“Sorry, sweet boy,” I whisper, petting his soft ears. His tail thumps the floor and he closes his eyes again, so I pet along his side and scratch his belly, letting the comfort of an innocent soul soothe me.