Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
FRANKIE
H e told me I looked beautiful.
Twice, actually. The first time, it sounded like reverence. The second, it sounded like a warning.
But no matter how many times Mathieu said it, I still felt like I’d stepped out in lingerie and labeled myself Target Practice .
The bikini seemed like a good idea when I bought it.
Bold. Red. Confident. Like maybe if I wore something that said “I’m fine” loud enough, I’d start believing it.
But now, walking into Archie’s pool area with a silk sarong barely hanging on and my stomach exposed to the entire senior class, I felt. .. hunted.
“Don’t trip,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that, mon c?ur ?” Mathieu asked, voice light, fingers steady against the small of my back.
“Nothing.” Everything . Kill me.
I could feel the eyes. Girls assessing. Guys staring. Friends frozen. Maybe worse.
But it wasn’t just the crowd—it was them. Jake, Coop, Bubba, and Archie.
The boys I’d grown up with. The boys I used to share snacks and secrets and summer storms with. The boys who came along later with games, challenges, and fun. The boys who damn near broke my heart.
I wasn’t sure they hadn’t actually broken it. As much as it hurt with each beat, they’d definitely done damage. Or maybe I had. I really didn’t know who to blame for it.
Jake looked like he might actually combust. Coop’s mouth was slightly open, like he’d forgotten how to shut it. Bubba… looked resigned. Like someone had handed him a bomb and told him to hold it, again. And Archie? Archie looked amused. Which was its own kind of terrifying.
It was the slowest walk of my life. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, thudding against the bass line of the party music like a countdown.
They’d shifted to one central location, sitting in a loose circle like kings on a damn patio throne. All I had to do was walk right into the court.
Fantastic.
No pressure.
Mathieu leaned closer. “You’re doing great, by the way.”
I shot him a look. “Easy for you to say. No one here wants to murder you with their eyeballs.”
He grinned. “Disagree. Your Mr. Jake looks seconds from violence.”
“Stop calling him my anything.”
“I will when you stop flinching every time you look at him.”
I didn’t respond. Because he wasn’t wrong. The fact he could offer the response in a tone that wasn’t one of reprimand but filled with enough sympathy and teasing made it easier to swallow.
As we reached the edge of the group, I felt my mouth stretch into a smile. I had no idea if it looked genuine, but I was pretty sure my face was about to cramp from the effort.
“Hey,” I said, trying for casual. “Hope we’re not late.”
Jake didn’t answer. The ice stung.
Coop nodded, eyes flicking down and back up like he couldn’t help himself.
Bubba gave me a grunt that might’ve been a greeting. Though, to his credit, he also struggled to give me a smile. Probably didn’t look any better than mine, but it was there.
Archie stood, fluid and smooth, and kissed my cheek like we were old Hollywood friends reunited after scandal.
“Frankie, darling,” he purred. Alarm bells went off in my head. It was easy to forget just how dangerous Archie could be. “You’ve outdone yourself. Mathieu, welcome to the chaos.”
“I feel very… observed,” Mathieu said lightly, releasing my back so I could sit. Only, now I had to figure out where .
Between Coop and Bubba? No.
Next to Jake? Hilarious.
The empty lounger near the bar? Safe, but cowardly.
I perched on the edge of a chair across from the boys instead, tugging the sarong tighter around my waist.
“I like your suit,” Coop said, voice a little rough.
I met his gaze, surprised. “Thanks.” Then, softer, “It was kind of a leap.” Bikinis were never my thing. I wasn’t altogether comfortable now .
“You stuck the landing.”
Jake made a noise like he was choking on sarcasm.
Mathieu shot him a look, then smiled at me. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I—yeah, thanks.”
He left with a parting brush of his hand on my shoulder, and suddenly I felt even more exposed. Like the only thing between me and an emotional firing squad had just abandoned me.
Jake stood too abruptly. “I’m getting another beer.”
“You just got a Coke,” Bubba said.
“Now I want a beer.” Then he walked off like we were personally offensive.
Archie sank back into his seat. “Well. That went well.”
“I told you not to bring him,” Coop muttered.
“You didn’t tell me.” I didn’t mean to snap, but it still came out that way. Sucking in a deep breath, I fisted my temper. I didn’t come here to fight. “You asked . Nicely.”
“You knew what it meant.” While the look he gave me bordered on scathing, I shrugged.
“I did. I also ignored it.” They brought their girlfriends places. How many parties had they thrown with them there? Just a few weeks earlier at Bubba’s birthday, they’d all been there and it wasn’t like Sharon and Maria weren’t here now .
They all stared at me. Or near me. Or over me. It was a miracle I hadn’t melted into the pool from sheer discomfort.
I rubbed my hands on my knees. “I wasn’t trying to throw it in anyone’s face.”
“No,” Bubba said. “But it hit, anyway.”
If he wanted an apology—if any of them did, they weren’t gonna get it. I exhaled slowly. “What did you expect me to do? Stay home and hide?”
“No one’s asking you to hide,” Coop said, too quickly.
“Really? Because the stares suggest otherwise.”
Archie snorted. “They’re just not used to seeing you dressed like a Bond girl.”
“I’m not dressed like a Bond girl.”
“Trust me, babe, you’re dressed like the reason Bond loses focus.”
I rolled my eyes, but the heat crept up my neck anyway. God, why did I come to this party?
I felt something brush against my bare ankle, and I glanced down. Bubba had nudged me with his foot, eyes steady, mouth in a grim line.
“We’re not mad you came,” he said. “Just… trying not to make it worse.”
“I didn’t think it could get worse.”
“Don’t challenge the universe,” he said dryly. “It loves a dare.”
Mathieu returned with a drink, handing it to me like nothing had exploded in his absence.
And maybe, somehow, it hadn’t.
Maybe the fire hadn’t fully caught.
Yet.
No way he didn’t notice the awkward party silence hovering around us like secondhand smoke.
The hum of the music, the others splashing in the pool or drinking or dancing all seemed to fade into the background.
There, but dialed down because it wasn’t part of what was happening right here.
No, Mathieu had to notice how tense everyone was.
How tense I was. Anyone with a pulse would notice.
Still, he wore a relaxed smile as cool as the citrus twist in the glass he’d brought me. “They had cucumber, but that seemed sweeter and summery.”
“Thank you.” I took a sip and nearly sighed. It was ice cold, and sweet. Wine. He’d picked one I liked and, of course, Archie just gave me a knowing look. The wine was only available cause Archie knew I liked it.
Suddenly, the cold glass felt like a grenade.
Mathieu dropped to sit on the edge of the lounge beside me.
He slouched like he belonged right there.
He did. It still made the tension spike.
You couldn’t miss Jake’s reaction. His reflection in the sliding glass door showed him freezing where he leaned against the bar on the far side of the pool with the bottle almost to his mouth.
“So, Mathieu…” Archie was the first to break the silence, all easy charm and subtle menace. “You’re not from around here.”
“No,” Mathieu answered, easily enough as he folded his sunglasses and hung them off his shirt collar. “I’ve been enjoying my stay. It’s a very nice area, except for one neighbor who mows at six a.m. He can eat a brick.”
A laugh startled out of me before I could stop it.
Archie’s smile didn’t move. “Glad we’re making a good impression. Frankie’s always had a way of bringing people together.” He spared me an enigmatic look. “Or starting fires. Sometimes both.”
“She’s been very kind to me.” Mathieu tilted his head. “I get the sense that kindness is more radical here than it should be.”
“So,” Coop asked, leaning forward slightly. “How long do you plan to be here?” Translation: How long are you planning to be around me like a security blanket?
Unperturbed, Mathieu shifted his focus to Coop. “I came here for school. I’m staying for other reasons.”
Jake scoffed from across the patio, but didn’t say a word. That was somehow worse than yelling. We were getting a lot of attention. The rumble of so many voices had dropped off, but people were still looking and leaning into each other to whisper.
Others had their phones out.
I hated it here.
“Other reasons.” Bubba drained the last of his beer. “Right.”
So much for behaving…
I tugged my sarong a little tighter. “Can we not do this?”
“Do what?” Coop asked, all wide-eyed innocence. Like he wasn’t vibrating with tension. That look didn’t work on me in kindergarten and it definitely didn’t work on me now. Like I couldn’t see his knee bouncing like he did when he wrestled with his own temper.
“This,” I gestured vaguely to the testosterone fog clouding the patio. “This weirdly polite gladiator match.”
Archie smirked. “Gladiators wore less clothing.”
I glared at him. “Don’t encourage them.”
Mathieu shifted next to me. “If it’s a problem that I’m here?—”
“It’s not ,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly.
“No, it’s not,” Bubba echoed my words, but not my tone. His clearly stated it totally is.
“Can we just all , try not to be jerks for one night?” My voice was barely a whisper, yet it felt like I had a microphone and shouted it to everyone present. “Please?”
The silence that followed was so pointy I could’ve stabbed with it.
“God.” Rachel’s voice sliced through the quiet like a glass dagger. “It’s like watching a pack of golden retrievers realize their favorite chew toy started dating someone else.”
I nearly choked on my wine. Rachel strolled up with a chilled drink of her own and zero patience in her eyes.
“Hello, boys,” she said with a hint of a drawl. “Still sulking like prom got canceled?”
Bubba sighed and Coop looked down like he either bit his tongue or swallowed it. Across the pool, Jake glared. But at this point, he could shove it. Either join the damn conversation or shut up. Archie, though, smiled and those internal alarms of mine clanged loudly.
“Rachel,” he said, smooth as silk. “You look like violence in a cover-up.”
“I aim to please.” She shifted her gaze to me. “Frankie, looking lethal. Need an exit?”
I didn’t hesitate. “God, yes.” I was on my feet so fast, I almost spilled my wine. Mathieu started to follow, but I brushed his arm. “Just give me a minute, please.”
Guilt nibbled at me, but I really did need a minute.
His brow furrowed slightly. Not offended, just… watchful. “I’ll be here.”
Of course he would. Too decent for his own good. Too calm in a minefield. God, I was an asshole to leave him.
Rachel gave the guys a little two-finger salute, then turned on her heel before leading me toward the far end of the pool away from the guys, Jake, the other party-goers. Everyone.
As soon as we were out of range of prying ears and had our backs to prying eyes, I blew out a breath so hard my lungs protested.
“That was excruciating .”
“You were doing great until you started begging for decency,” she said dryly. “They don’t have any left. Testosterone and repressed feelings burned them out a long time ago.”
I huffed out a half-laugh. It was too sad to be really funny, but I’d rather laugh than cry. “Why are you helping me?”
Head cocked, she spared a look back toward the others before studying me again. “Because I don’t like you when you’re pathetic.”
“Wow.” Ouch. “Thank you?”
Rachel shrugged. “I don’t like them when they’re smug. This new brooding, angsty gumbo they’ve cooked up? Unbearable. You’re the common denominator.”
“Fantastic.”
She handed me her drink before plucking the wine out of my grip. “It’s water. Hydrate. You’re going to need it.”
“For what?”
Rachel smiled without any teeth. “Because you’ve officially entered your villain era. Trust me—everyone just noticed.”