Chapter 31 #2
I leaned back and watched them.
The dynamic had shifted. Archie and Frankie had done—something to deepen their relationship.
But they weren’t cutting us out. Coop’s jealousy was still present, but he wasn’t letting it decide anything.
Jake’s curiosity and need to repair the damage he’d inflicted was also still there, but so was his determination to not let those mistakes dictate our future.
It was enough… for now.
None of us were walking.
“So, I guess that means we really should talk about Homecoming.”
Archie
Frankie lasted another twenty minutes.
She laughed at something Jake said about tux colors. Argued with Bubba about whether renting was a scam. Threw a mozzarella stick at Coop for calling her “dramatic.”
But the cracks were showing.
Her laugh came slower. Her posture dipped. That steel she’d been holding herself up with all night? It was thinning.
When she stood and said, “I’m going to crash before I fall over in front of you idiots,” none of us stopped her.
She paused in front of me. Not awkward. Not uncertain. Just… there. Her hand brushed my shoulder.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she said softly.
Like this was normal. Like I was hers in that quiet way.
“I won’t,” I lied.
She studied me for half a second, then leaned down and kissed my temple. After, she disappeared down the hall with the sound of the cats greeting her drifting back. I closed the door to the game room without letting myself look to see which room she chose.
Silence fell. Different silence. Heavier.
I didn’t move for a few seconds, then pushed away from the door to reclaim my spot on the sofa. All three of them were waiting for me, their expressions varying degrees of questioning.
“Okay,” Jake said immediately. “So we’re going to pretend that wasn’t a shift or—”
“No,” Coop cut in. “We’re not pretending anything.”
Bubba stayed quiet, watchful and waiting. To be fair, he’d gotten really tactical the last few months. He never rushed anything and I had to respect the tenacity and the confidence he had in spades.
I folded my hands loosely in front of me.
“You’ve got something to say,” Coop added.
“Probably,” I admitted.
Jake whistled low. “Oh good. Honesty hour.”
I met Coop’s eyes first. Because he was the one that mattered most in this moment.
“You’re not losing her,” I said evenly.
His jaw tightened. “Didn’t say I was.”
“You didn’t have to.”
From day one, Coop’s claim on being Frankie’s best friend had been absolute. We were among her best friends, he was her best friend. The forever kind. No girlfriend he’d ever had could come close to touching that relationship. None of us would dare.
I had my own relationship with her and one I was confident in. Especially now.
The air went sharp.
Jake leaned back slowly. Bubba didn’t blink. But Coop held my gaze.
“And you?” he asked.
“I’m not stepping back,” I admitted, because this was important. Frankie meant everything to me. I wouldn’t be cut out. As long as she wanted me, that was where I would be.
Jake muttered, “Well. That’s subtle.”
Bubba shot him a look.
Coop exhaled through his nose, but he didn’t get angry or rage. He just maintained a kind of calm that I used to envy. “You planning on pushing us out?” he asked.
“No.” I didn’t even have to think about that answer, even if I knew damn well they needed to ask the question.
While Jake actually looked stunned, I didn’t take that as an insult. Jake was an all or nothing kind of guy and that had nearly cost us all. So, he could be surprised. If he sank his chances with Frankie, that would be on him—not me.
Coop, however, merely narrowed his eyes and continued to study me. “Then what are you planning?” he asked quietly.
There it was. The real question. The one I’d been waiting for. The one they’d needed to ask since they got here but held it off for Frankie’s sake.
I considered lying. Considered softening it.
Then, didn’t do either. “I’m planning on being what she needs,” I said. “And I’m not making her choose. Not now. Not ever. What Frankie wants and needs—that’s what she’s going to get.”
The words sat there.
Bubba nodded once, apparently, he and I were on the same page. Maybe that shouldn’t seem as wild to me as it did, but it was also a relief. “Good,” was his only comment.
Jake, on the other hand, stared at me like I’d just announced I was joining a monastery.
A combination of relief and frustration cascaded across Coop’s face. “I don’t know if that’s good or not,” he said, seemingly choosing his words with care. “You’re different…something’s changed.”
“Yes,” I replied because he wasn’t wrong.
Something had changed. I’d learned a lot about myself in the past weeks and days since learning Frankie had a boyfriend, since discovering she’d thought we were punishing her somehow—and I’d made a discovery when Edward and Maddy tried to sell me that bullshit that she was my sister.
I wouldn’t apologize for any of it.
Jake tilted his head. “Different how? Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a guy who already won.”
I shrugged. “Probably.” But this wasn’t about winning.
“That doesn’t scare you?” Jake pushed, like he was trying to figure out his own feelings on the subject.
“Look, I’m not that evolved. It does scare me.”
That surprised them. Good.
“But not enough to walk.”
The room went still.
Bubba broke the silence first. “She said she’s not choosing,” he reminded me.
“I heard her.”
“And?” At his challenge, I got the odd impression he already knew my answer but he was just saying it to make sure we all heard it.
“And I respect that. Respect her.”
Coop leaned forward. “Respect and handle aren’t the same thing.”
“I’m not competing with you,” I said calmly.
Jake snorted. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.” Because here was the thing they didn’t know: I wasn’t afraid of them. I wasn’t threatened by them. I wasn’t trying to win.
I had already decided something bigger than that.
“If she leans toward you,” I told Coop, “I won’t punish her for it.”
Jake went quiet.
Bubba’s eyes sharpened.
Coop studied me like he was searching for weakness.
“And if she leans toward you?” he asked.
“Then I won’t apologize for it either.” I would never apologize for how I felt about her or how hard I would fight for her.
No one spoke for a long moment.
Then Bubba nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
Jake rubbed a hand down his face. “Jesus. We’re having an adult conversation.”
Coop leaned back finally. “We hurt her,” he said.
Not a question. A warning.
“I know.”
“And I won’t let any of us do that again,” he continued and it almost amused me that Jake actually looked startled.
Had he forgotten just how much Coop adored her?
How hard he’d fight for her too? Coop wasn’t the loudest one of us nor the most overtly friendly, but I’d seen how far he would go for the people he cared about.
I doubted there was anyone he cared about more than her.
“And you shouldn’t.” If that answer surprised any of them, then they needed to get this through their heads right now. “I won’t let any of us do that again either.”
The silence stretched almost taut between us as everyone digested the statement.
Jake pointed between us. “So we’re what? A… cooperative situation?”
“Don’t phrase it like a fantasy football bracket,” Bubba muttered.
I leaned back, finally grabbing a slice of pizza. “She’s not a prize,” I said. She was the whole damn package.
Coop’s mouth twitched faintly.
“Good,” he said, because that had been his real test. Was I trying to win just to win? No. He had a right to challenge that in all of us.
“Okay, but if you start brooding in corners and staring at us like we’re expendable,” Jake said as he tossed a crust back into the box. “I’m staging an intervention.”
“That’s fair,” I replied.
Bubba stood, stretching. “We’re good. For now.”
He met my eyes and all I saw in his was quiet agreement. No one would surrender, no one would submit. We were in this together, a pact. She would be the center and that was how we handled it.
Coop rose, wiping his hands off on a napkin. “You love her, Arch?”
Direct.
Blunt.
No room to dodge.
I didn’t answer right away. Not because I didn’t know. Because I did. Because she should be the first person I told, and she would be. For now, I just said, “Yes.” She would be the first one to get all of the words.
Coop held my gaze, then nodded once. “Then don’t screw it up.”
“Wow. Growth.” Jake pointed at him.
“Shut up,” Coop muttered, shooting him a middle finger. “You might have miles to go, some of us were already there.”
The tension broke just enough on a laugh. “No shit,” Jake said. “I’ll just have to keep on working.”
“All of us will,” Bubba said. “She’s worth it.”
Yes, she absolutely was.
After another half hour, they filtered out one by one—Jake still talking, Coop quieter than usual, Bubba giving me one last assessing look before heading down the hall—I stayed seated for a minute longer.
Downstairs, Jeremy would see them out and lock up the house. From where I sat, I couldn’t hear anything. Maybe they’d all left, could we get that lucky?
I tossed the empty box onto the table, killed the lights in the game room, and walked the hall slowly. My door was half open.
I didn’t push it wider right away. I just stood there.
Frankie was sprawled diagonally across my bed like she’d claimed it years ago. Tory curled against her ribs. Tiddles was a dramatic lump near her feet. Tabby tucked against her shoulder like a sentry.
She hadn’t even made it under the covers.
One arm was flung above her head. The other rested loosely against Tory’s back. Her hair fanned across my pillow like it belonged there. Like she belonged there.
I stepped inside quietly without turning on the lights. I didn’t want to wake her. I closed the door to the hall and locked it. Then I just sat on the edge of the platform steps and watched her breathe.
All the war downstairs. All the tension upstairs. All the complicated, messy, impossible dynamics we were standing inside of.
And here?
Peace.
She shifted in her sleep and murmured something unintelligible, brow faintly furrowing before relaxing again.
She was here.
And for now?
That was enough.