46. FRANKIE #2
“Here you are. Scan the QR code there, and you can place your order. All food comes out as it’s ready. You can also pop over to the bar whenever you want. Just give him your table number and last name.”
I murmur my thanks, and Jackson and I sit. He fidgets with the seam of his dress pants. “Is this spot okay? Is it too hot out here? Maybe we should move inside where there’s air conditioning?”
Dear Lord. I scooch up to him, grab his face, and plant a hard kiss on his mouth. “Stop.” I kiss him again. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
For the first time all night, he softens. His forehead drops against mine, and he lets out a breath he was probably holding since he stepped into my house.
“I’m really nervous,” he admits.
I skate my knuckles over his cheek. “Am I that terrifying?”
He blinks. “Yes.”
I bark out a laugh.
“I’ve never done this,” he says quietly, staring at his hands. “I’ve never taken anyone on a date. And you…” His gaze slips up to meet mine, the flickering flame reflecting in his eyes. “You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, Frankie. I just want the night to be worthy of you.”
My heart melts into a puddle.
I slide my hand up and down his thigh. A thrill runs through me that I get to do that. In public. I get to touch this man. I get to let everyone know he’s mine. I swallow hard.
“Jackson…” His name comes out rough with the emotion that’s been building in me since I started getting ready for tonight.
“The skies could open up right now and drench us. The food could come out burnt and inedible. You could spill your drink on me. Better yet, we could accidentally light something on fire. And it would still be the perfect date.” I gently take his arm and encourage him to wrap it around me. “All I need for a perfect date…is you.”
His arm tightens around me. “Me too, babe.”
“All right, boyfriend. Let’s order some tapas. And maybe some alcohol. That’ll loosen you up.” I wink.
A couple drinks and an impressive amount of food—most of which was eaten by Jackson—later, we’re snuggled up in the corner of the sectional.
My head is resting in the crook of his shoulder, one leg strung over his lap, his arm securely behind me. “Thank you for an amazing night.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “It feels surreal. To be able to be with you like this. The hostess didn’t even blink twice when we walked in. Did you notice that? She was so nice.”
I tilt my head back so I can see his face. He steals a quick kiss, and I grin. I shift back a little, my fingers drifting lazily over his chest. “This world…is full of love and hate. You grew up in a portion skewed toward hate. But there is love, Jackson. A lot of it.”
He smiles softly. “I’m starting to see that.” Then his smile is gone, and his gaze darts away. Just like that, he’s back to stone beneath me. He clears his throat. “So, um, there’s another reason I was a little nervous for tonight.”
“Okay…”
He blows out a breath, staring off into the city skyline.
I gently grip his chin and turn him to face me. “Breathe. And tell me what’s on your mind.”
His eyes search mine. “I was wondering…I was thinking that it probably made sense… Since I travel a lot, and I’m already at your place more often than not…” He drops his head to my shoulder. “God, I feel weird asking this.”
“Jackson?”
His muffled “yeah?” dances over my skin.
“Will you move in with me?”
His head snaps up, eyes wide, and I chuckle.
“It wasn’t very hard to see where you were going with that, babe.”
His brows pinch. “Are you sure that’s okay? I know it’s fast. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Or smother you.”
“Jackson.” I slide my hand up his thigh—indecently high. “I would love nothing more than you smothering me. Trust me.”
His eyes darken. “Later. That’s happening later.”
I shrug casually. “Maybe.”
He hums in a way that makes me think he’s going to be the one who wins this one—which really makes us both winners. He takes his phone out of his pocket and taps away for a minute, then tucks it away.
I cock my head questioningly. “Scheduling me in for later?” I tease.
He bites his lip, a smile breaking through. “Ah…No.” He lifts his hand behind his head and squeezes his neck. “I was just, um, letting the guys know they can unpack my stuff.”
I blink rapidly. “Excuse me?”
His smile turns bashful. “I might have packed up all my stuff last night and brought it over with me tonight.”
“You overconfident little fucker,” I squeal. I shove his chest. “You act all nervous and bashful, yet you’ve got all your stuff already being moved in as we speak!”
“Hopeful,” he corrects. “Granted, it would have been awkward as all hell if I had to move all the shit back into my suite. I can only imagine the ribbing O’Neil and Slater would have given me.”
I cross my arms and shake my head at him.
He bats his eyes at me. Nope. Not going to work.
“Am I still allowed to move in?” His voice lilts up, and he’s giving me full puppy-dog eyes.
I let out a dramatic sigh. “I suppose.”
He pulls me into a kiss. “You’re the most bestest boyfriend in the whole world,” he says against my lips.
“I know.”
He chuckles. “I love you, Frankie.”
I let out a purr and close my eyes. I will never get used to that. “I love you too, babe.”
“I told them. My suitemates. About us.”
I pull back. “Oh? How did that go?”
“Good, actually. O’Neil and Slater were super chill.
They, uh, had been kinda hurt that I’d been passing them over for Michaels, Winters, and Nebs.
So, when they found out the real reason was that I was hung up on you, I think it made them feel a little better.
They like you a lot. Think they were kind of impressed I landed you, to be honest.” His smiling eyes catch mine.
“Henderson was quiet, but he didn’t really cause any trouble.
I know his views are similar to Dev’s, but it seems like he’ll be keeping to himself at least.”
I lace our fingers and squeeze. “I’m glad it went well, babe. And tomorrow you talk to the skipper?”
He nods. “Yeah, Chuck is taking the train up, and we’ll have some meetings with the front office and Dominguez.
Then I’ll probably do a quick announcement in the locker room.
Just to get it out there. I’ve talked to Shane, Easton, and Paulie a bit about it, and they’re all ready to make sure I don’t lose my balls. Slate and O’Neil too.”
“Look at you,” I say thickly. “I’m so proud of you, Jackson. And I’m so damn happy for you.”
His smile quivers slightly. “It’s scary, but I told you back at that hotel, you make me want to be brave. I meant it. I’m ready to be brave. For me. For you.”
I grip the back of his neck and pull his forehead against mine. “For us,” I whisper.
“For us.”