Chapter 10 #2
Kristen wasn’t wrong. They had cuts of sea bass that felt perfectly thick and firm—and while it would take a while to cook, once he tasted it, he was pretty sure Frankie would thank him for the wait instead of feeling annoyed by it.
He bought runner beans to go with, ingredients for fresh pesto, some baby potatoes, and a couple of very fat carrots that would slice and roast up perfectly.
Kristen got him through check out, and while she was bagging up his things, Lucas navigated to his app and ordered the car, which was, thank god, only two minutes away.
The guy hadn’t lied to him, and it was only six thirty by the time he was shoving his key into the lock and turning the handle. He stood in the hallway for a quick second, listening for Frankie moving around or speaking, but it was silent.
Not even Elodie was making her usual racket. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he went inside to start his prep before going to get Frankie.
While the oven was heating, Lucas forced himself through the world’s quickest shower, then slapped on some deodorant and a little of the scented lotion Gage had gifted him for his last birthday. It was a subtle, sort of woodsy lavender scent that he didn’t mind that much.
Normally he avoided colognes like the plague, but he wanted Frankie to enjoy him. Even if it wasn’t the way he wanted.
His nerves started to ramp up as he finished getting dressed, then checked the oven before throwing all the herbs, garlic, cheese, and oil into his food processor for the pesto. It took him a moment to get the flavor right, but when it was done, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
He had a momentary panic attack that maybe Frankie was going to eat without him since he was taking so fucking long, but when he trailed his fingers over the first door, then the second, then the third, he felt an odd sense of calm.
Whatever was going to happen would happen. All he could control was himself.
Wise words from a childhood therapist.
He curled his fingers into a fist, then knocked gently and waited with his breath trapped in his throat.
Seconds ticked by. Nearly a minute. God, he wasn’t home, was he?
He’d gotten tired of waiting, so he took his family out for pizza or burgers.
Or he was looking through the peephole and trying to be quiet so Lucas couldn’t hear him.
Shit, maybe he was—
“Oh my god, I thought I missed you.”
Lucas spun toward the sound of Frankie’s cinnamon spice voice. His footsteps were coming down the hall at a rapid pace. “Were you at my door?”
“No, I just—” He heaved a breath. “There was a crisis at work, and I just managed to get out of there. Have you been waiting long?”
“No.” Lucas frowned. “Are your brother and Elodie gone?”
“Yeah. Fenton and his girlfriend picked them up for this family pizza party night at her preschool.”
Lucas’s brows lifted. “Oh. Oh. Wait…should you…do you…want to go to that?”
“Fuck no,” Frankie blurted, and then Lucas heard the noise of skin slapping skin, and Frankie’s laugh was muffled, probably by his hand. “Sorry, that probably makes me the world’s worst dad, but a night in a room full of excited toddlers and pizza does not sound ideal.”
Lucas couldn’t help a grin. “Okay. So you have time to eat with me, then?”
“I have all night. Fallon’s doing a sleepover at Fenton’s place with them.
It’s kind of a routine Fen developed when Fallon was younger.
Whenever he experienced a really big upset, he’d build a big blanket fort with a bunch of lights and pillows and all of his favorite movies.
Anyway, you don’t care about that, and I’m rambling. ”
Lucas softened. Frankie’s family sounded a lot like the family his dad had brought them into when they’d moved there. Just a bit smaller, which Lucas wouldn’t have minded some days. “I think that sounds amazing. Now, I have food going. Do you need a little while to unwind?”
“Maybe just a shower. There was an incident,” Frankie said, his voice going darker. “I don’t really want to talk about it, but if you get closer to me, you’ll smell it.”
He was already smelling it. Just a faint whiff of something like old shrimp.
“I’ll leave my door open, okay? Just come in when you’re done.”
“You sure you want me just walking in your—”
“Yes,” Lucas said, not letting him finish. “You might be an annoying pain in the ass on the job, but as a neighbor…” He trailed off for a beat, then grinned. “Not so bad.”
“After today, I am taking that as the highest compliment,” Frankie said with his rich, gorgeous laugh.
Lucas fought the urge to reach out and touch him. Instead, he put his hand against the wall to orient himself back toward his own door. He got a few steps away, then froze. “You’re not allergic to fish, are you?”
“Actually, I am.”
He broke out in an immediate cold sweat. “Wait—really?”
Frankie laughed again. “No, hon. I’m not allergic to anything except freshly mowed grass, and for some reason, when I touch cardboard, I break out in hives.”
Lucas turned slightly to face the sound of his voice. “That wasn’t nice.”
“I know. Sorry. I’m not the best at reading the room.”
Lucas shook his head, but he was smiling. “No. I like it. People get too careful with me. Like I can’t take a fucking joke, even though my whole life is a joke. Anyway, see you soon?”
“With bells on. Not literally,” Frankie added.
Lucas forced himself to walk back to his apartment before he said or did something that gave him away. Because, if he was being honest with himself, he was very, very close to pulling back his sleeve and showing his entire heart.