12. Frankie
TWELVE
Frankie
“Are you finally going to tell me what we’re doing?” I asked, as Oliver stepped out of his SUV and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What are you doing out here?” He looked perplexed as he approached, offering a hand to help me up from the front step—the same one I’d been perched on for the past fifteen minutes. Nerves had kept me up all night and left me barely eating the day before. Spending time alone with a guy like Oliver? Definitely not something I did often. I’d felt the same jittery tension before our snowboarding lesson, and the fact that I hadn’t exactly impressed him that day did little to ease my discomfort.
“Waiting for you?” It came out like a question.
He tilted his head. “I would have come and knocked on the door. I’m not a complete degenerate.”
I hoped he didn’t notice the slight shake of my hands as I held up my coffee mug. “I figured this way, you wouldn’t have to wake Giles and Mattie. They’re sleeping in today.”
The three of us had gotten a little too wine drunk yesterday—well, mostly them. Like I said, bundle of nerves over here. Mattie had noticed that so she’d broken out our favorite childhood board game and we’d all gotten way too into playing it. They had continued to play for hours after I’d gone to bed. I could hear them as I tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling.
Oliver still looked a little displeased at the fact that I was waiting outside for him, but he shook it off and placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me to his car.
“This yours?” I asked as he opened the door and I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Whose else would it be?” he asked, walking around to his side and sliding in.
The cleanliness of his car struck me immediately. I turned in my seat to look at the back, but there was no crumpled-up clothes or trash in site. It even smelled good in here. Like pine trees or something.
“Clean,” I said, not even trying to hide how impressed I was.
“I like to keep things tidy,” he said, buckling his seat belt. “I used to live with my best friend, Harrison, who is a total neat freak. Broke any of my messy habits right out of me.”
“That’s good,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything more clever.
Oliver reached between us for the gear shift, and I stared his hand as he put it in drive. Was it weird that I found his hands attractive? As he put them both on the bottom of the steering wheel and I watched as they engulfed it, I realized that weird or not, I definitely found them attractive.
I tore my gaze away and stared out the window at the dark street. Why Oliver had chosen an activity that started before sunrise was beyond me, but I couldn’t deny that there was something a little thrilling about being out here with him before the town stirred.
“So, this is the car,” Oliver said, tapping the steering wheel. “I know you thought I was making it up, but here she is in all her glory.”
“Exactly the type of car I pictured you in.” It was one of those off-road SUVs that, while in great shape, was clearly at least a decade old.
Oliver laughed and snapped his gaze to mine before returning it to the road. “Hey, now. In your own words, you pictured me both houseless and unable to acquire a car.”
My cheeks burned at the reminder. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled.
Oliver seemed to sense my discomfort because he hit the power button on the center console. “You can control the music,” he said, turning his head both directions at the stop sign before making a left turn and exiting Main Street.
Instead of looking for an aux cord or a Bluetooth connection, I went for the FM button and hit search until I found the least fuzzy station.
“A radio girl?” Oliver asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m surprised. I would have thought you’d have some carefully curated playlist to go along with every occasion.”
Normally he’d be correct. But I was far too self-conscious to share any music with Oliver right now. The radio was safe. Neither of us picked it. I didn’t spend hours thinking of the perfect song only to risk Oliver not liking it or pressing “skip” without a second thought. No. That was far too risky.
“I like the radio,” I said, as the next song began—an old, cheesy country ballad I never would’ve chosen if given the option.
Oliver merged onto the highway and shifted lanes. There was almost no one else on the road .
“How far is this mystery place?” I asked, turning the heaters so that they weren’t blasting directly on me. My outfit was causing me to overheat slightly. When I’d asked Oliver what I should wear, his only response was, “Something that’s comfortable, warm, and that you can move in.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, and it had me a little nervous for whatever awaited us.
“It’s not far,” Oliver said with a wink. He was clearly loving this air of mystery that shrouded the morning. “Any way I could convince you to give me a sip of that?” he asked, nodding toward my to-go coffee mug.
“Oh, sure.” I nearly flung the mug at him, but thankfully I caught myself and handed it to him with some semblance of grace.
He smiled, unfazed as usual, and took a long sip. “Ahh.” He smacked his lips and handed it back to me. “Needed that. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Same,” I said. My eyes widened at the admittance. We both looked at each other, but he tore his gaze away first.
His words lingered in the air as a small explosion of fireworks went off in my gut. Had he struggled to sleep for the same reason I had? Was he nervous about today too? The thought made me want to slap myself for being so foolish—of course, Oliver wasn’t nervous. Just look at him. The guy hadn’t been nervous a day in his life. I was teetering on the edge of complete delusion, and I needed to snap out of it.
I couldn’t sit in the silence any longer. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable—the opposite actually. It was almost too comfortable.
“How long have you had this car?” I asked, cringing at the lame question. He was going to think I had absolutely zero social skills .
Oliver let out a low chuckle. “You’re really interested in my car, aren’t you?”
“And your house,” I added.
“Are you sizing up my assets? Trying to determine if I could be a good provider?”
The fireworks were now full-on blasting. It was a whole display.
“Of course not,” I said hurriedly.
Had I been doing that? When I’d first met Oliver, I had been attracted to him, but I had written him off as an irresponsible man-child. One who probably didn’t work hard or have any sense of obligation. And while he certainly put on a solid show of not caring, it was clear there was a lot more to him than I initially thought. In fact, he was beginning to feel like a potentially viable option.
I shook the thought from my mind. Because Oliver was definitely not a viable option. Even if he was the absolute perfect guy—like I had crafted him in a lab, perfect—I wasn’t staying in Key Ridge, and he probably wasn’t either. Ski season would be over soon, and then he’d be moving on to some other adventure. On top of that, even if our differences didn’t feel that significant right now, they were still glaringly present. The whole “opposites attract” thing only worked in movies.
“What kind of question could I ask you right now that would make you less nervous?” he asked.
My eyes jerked to his face. He kept stealing glances at me before gluing his eyes back to the road. I thought about lying and telling him I wasn’t nervous, but it felt pointless. Even though we should be nothing more than acquaintances, Oliver already seemed to know me a lot better than anyone else I’d met in recent history.
“Ask me my favorite movie,” I said .
Fifteen minutes later, and one long argument about which genre was better, action or romance, Oliver pulled off the highway and into a half-full parking lot at the base of the mountain.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded. “You are not taking me snowboarding again.”
Oliver tipped back his head, laughing. “Wow, you don’t trust me at all.”
“You said it yourself—you don’t give up when it comes to dragging people on risky adventures.”
He got out of the car and then rounded to my side, opening my door and holding out his hand to help me down from the SUV.
My “thank you” got caught in my throat as soon as my hand touched his. Sparks. Everywhere.
I snatched it away and dug into my coat pockets for the gloves Mattie said were there. I slipped them on, but I could still feel the ghost of Oliver’s touch. His eyes glimmered as if he’d felt something, too, but he closed the door and clapped his hands together.
“Alright, let’s do this,” he said, moving around to the back of his car and opening the trunk. He rummaged around for a moment before producing…something. They were flat with a blue rim all the way around their long, narrow shape.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Oliver’s smile fell. “You’ve never seen a snowshoe before?”
“Wasn’t a big activity growing up in Florida,” I deadpanned.
He thrust the strange-looking device at me, and I took it.
“We’re going on a sunrise hike to breakfast.” His voice was filled with pride.
The snowshoes dangled in my hands as I assessed how they were supposed to attach to my feet. “I like the second part of that statement,” I said.
Oliver chuckled and tugged at my beanie. “The first part will be fun too. And very flat.”
I turned to look at the trail entrance. It was wide, and even had a thin layer of fresh snow on it. “I do appreciate flatness.”
Flatness my ass.
We’d been at this for thirty minutes now with no end in sight. This so-called “easy trail” was ever-so-slightly uphill. That, mixed with my out-of-shapeness and the thin mountain air, meant I was moving at a snail’s pace, huffing and puffing the entire time.
Even though Oliver and I were the first car in the small parking lot when we’d arrived, three groups had passed us due to my glacial pace.
To Oliver’s credit, even though he wasn’t the least bit out of breath, he hung back with me without complaint. He’d only made one snide remark ten minutes ago about hoping the breakfast would still be hot when we arrived. He’d made the comment while we were walking up a small slope, and I didn’t have the lung capacity to berate him for it.
“I thought these were supposed to make walking in the snow easier,” I said, sucking in a breath of the cold air. It was only thirty degrees outside, but I was already roasting. As soon as the sun crested over the mountains and I started feeling the full strain of the hike, I had to shed my thick down coat and tie it around my waist.
“They do,” Oliver insisted, taking a few quick steps beyond me as if to prove his point. “See? I’m practically floating. ”
“Oh, yeah,” I wheezed. “This is a breeze.”
Oliver tossed back his head and chuckled. “Not much for exercise, huh?”
“I do Pilates,” I said defensively. Every Tuesday and Thursday. Which actually reminded me, I really needed to cancel that membership. It wasn’t like I’d be using it any time soon, and I couldn’t exactly afford to be squandering away one hundred dollars a month on a gym membership while there was still no end in sight to my unemployment.
Oliver let me walk in front of him before letting out a low whistle. “I can tell.”
My eyebrows shot up as I turned around to find him smiling at me. “Like you can tell what my body looks like through all these layers.”
“Maybe I’ve noticed before,” he said, a sly grin creeping onto his face.
Heat rushed into my cheeks that had little to do with the exertion of the hike.
Oliver, seemingly oblivious to the effect he had on me, fell into step next to me. “So, no sports then?” he asked.
“What like adult intramural volleyball?” I snorted. “Hard pass.”
When I glanced up at Oliver, he looked deeply offended by that. “Adult leagues are a great place to meet people, Frankie.”
He had me there. Maybe I shouldn’t be poking fun at any extracurricular activities when my life currently held none.
“Maybe I’ll give it a try one day.”
“Yeah, right,” he said with a laugh. “What about high school? Did you at least play sports then?”
“Aside from my failed attempt at track and field, not really.” My snowshoe hit a hidden branch, and I stumbled a little. Oliver’s hands were around my waist in an instant, steadying me. “I was more into academics,” I continued, stepping away from his touch. “You know, debate team, student council, those types of things.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Our paths would not have crossed in high school.”
Oliver in high school. Without even having to ask, I was sure he was the popular, jock type. I had been popular in my own way. I hadn’t had too bad of an awkward phase, and I did have friends. But all my overachieving left little time for a social life.
“Oh yeah? Not big into studies,” I teased.
“Not even a little. I made sure I passed because I wanted to get the hell out of there and never think about school again, but I wouldn’t say I thrived. Plus, a passing grade was necessary for sports.”
“Which I take it you did in abundance.”
“Yep.” I could hear the smile in his voice even though my gaze was fixed on my steps. “Soccer, basketball, baseball. My dad was always irritated I couldn’t commit to only one. He told me I might actually amount to being more than average if I did that. I think that just made me want to spread myself even thinner.”
I winced. He’d hardly shared anything about himself, his past, or his family. Even though I wanted to know more, Oliver gave off a “ask me personal questions, and I might bolt” vibe.
“He sounds like a dick,” I said.
Oliver snorted. “You have no idea. I couldn’t wait to get out of that house. Moved to Colorado as soon as I graduated and never looked back.”
That caught my attention. “You went to school out here?”
“Nope. Moved out here with my friend Harrison. We shared a shitty apartment and both got minimum wage jobs. ”
My mouth went slack at the admittance as I forced myself to take steadying breaths. Talking while trudging through the snow was proving a good distraction, but I was still basically panting. “You didn’t go to college?” I asked.
Oliver turned to see my shocked expression. Instead of being offended, a laugh escaped him as he rolled his eyes. “What? You’re seriously surprised that I didn’t go to college? Do I seem like the type?”
“I don’t know,” I said, scrambling to keep up with him. It was like these snowshoes were a second skin for him.
“You thought, I—who’s never had a stable job in my life, who comes out to teach snowboarding lessons on a whim, who hated school and has called your corporate career soul sucking— went to college ?” He raised his eyebrows.
“There are lots of reasons to go to college.” My tone had taken on a defensive edge.
“Yeah. To get into debt and get scammed out of a whole lot of money.”
“Or to meet lifelong friends, get an education, study abroad, kickstart your career.”
Oliver chuckled in a condescending way that instantly made my skin flare. “How many lifelong friends did you make in college?” he asked.
My mouth snapped shut as if he’d hurled an accusation at me. “I keep in touch with a few people.”
He turned around and snapped his fingers. “Oh, and tell me about your study abroad. I’d love to hear about it.”
The frustration I felt was intense—Oliver barely knew me, yet he had me so perfectly figured out that he knew I hadn’t studied abroad.
“Well,” I continued, ignoring the comment, “even you can’t deny that it’s a good place to get an education.”
“There are other ways to get an education, Frankie,” he said in a low voice, dipping his chin to meet my gaze. Everything inside me went liquid. “What I’m hearing,” Oliver carried on, “is that your complex with what society thinks of as success is deep rooted.”
He had me there, but I still felt the need to argue. “Having goals does not mean I have a complex,” I said.
“I beg to differ. Why are you so obsessed with finding a job?” he countered.
“I am not obsessed,” I spat out.
“Fine. Fixated, then.”
The snow crunched beneath my feet as I did my best not to fall too far behind and maintain my composure. “It’s hard. There aren’t a lot of options out there right now?—”
“No, but why ?” Oliver pressed. “Why do you have this deeply ingrained drive to find the next thing? The thing that will help you reach some fictitious goal that doesn’t mean anything. You practically broke down when I first met you, calling yourself a failure. Why ?”
Glaring up at him, I did my best to make myself look bigger than I felt. “I’m supposed to help you with your goals, not be challenged for mine.”
“Frankie,” Oliver said gently. “I was never going to let you give me goals. Especially when you can’t produce one good reason for having them yourself. In fact,” he gestured to me, “it seems to me like all your goals have brought you is disappointment and misery.”
That stopped me right in my tracks. The words were beyond harsh but they held a grain of truth. In fact, in the small moments where I’d let my mind wander these past few weeks, I had been briefly met with the same realizations. I’d worked so hard for that company, and for what? For them to drop me like I was nothing?
“Hey. ”
I didn’t look up but Oliver now hovered in front of me. Heat brewed beneath my eyes, and I refused to let a tear spill right now.
“Hey,” he said again, even softer. “I’m sorry.” He captured my chin in his thumb and forefinger, and I let him tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “That was too harsh. Fuck.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Because it’s true,” I whispered. “I am miserable.”
“No, you’re not.”
“But I am,” I huffed out. “I spent years climbing and trying and only focusing on one thing. Even when they asked too much of me and I knew it, I did it without question. I figured if I worked hard enough that I’d be rewarded.”
“And then they screwed you over,” he said gently.
“Exactly.”
Oliver sighed. “They’re bastards. Greedy bastards. They don’t see anyone as human beings, they only care about their bottom line and that’s despicable,” he said matter-of-factly. “You can’t think of yourself as a failure because of this. It says nothing about who you are.”
“I made that my entire personality. I let it define me. And now it’s gone, and I’m worthless.” I hung my head in defeat.
“No,” Oliver said, more forceful than I’d ever heard him. My lip quivered at his proximity. “You. Are. Not. Worthless.” He enunciated each word, his eyes darkening.
Something heavy bobbed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. While I still didn’t believe him wholeheartedly, his determination had my head spinning.
When I opened my mouth to respond, Oliver stuck a finger in my face. “Don’t you dare try to argue with me.” The tendon in his neck pulsed ever so slightly. Intense Oliver was slightly intimidating.
I kind of liked it.