Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Finch
I heard the sound of the TV as I climbed the steps to the apartment, and I knew Frankie was rewatching Our Flag Means Death —her favorite comfort show. When I opened the door, she was bundled up in a hoodie and leggings, a fleece throw blanket over her lap. Where did that come from? I didn’t even know I had throw blankets in the apartment. Mom probably stashed it in the linen closet without me noticing.
"Hey," Frankie said with a wave of her hoodie-covered hand. "Popcorn?" She offered out the giant red bowl.
I reached over and took a handful. "So did you kill your brother today? Am I going to find bits of Crane floating around the crocodile moat?” she asked. “‘Cuz if you need an alibi, I'm your girl."
I loved the way she said that. I had no doubt that Frankie had reached the “help me bury the bodies” level of friendship. She’d probably be the first person I’d call too.
“Sadly, no alibis will be needed,” I said, rubbing my twitching eyebrow. The little muscles in my face had all started betraying me with the lack of sleep. "I just gave him a stern talking to about knocking. I think he learned his lesson.”
“A stern talking to. How ominous,” Frankie joked.
"I can be intimidating when I want to be," I protested. My mask of bravado quickly slipped as I let out a long, weary sigh.
Frankie curled her knees up. “Long day?"
“Yeah." My shoulders drooped and my arms hung limply by my sides, as if it were too much effort to stand straight.
“Do you want to talk about it?"
That took me by surprise. I had a lot of listening ears in my family, but no one asked me if I wanted to talk about my long days. We all had long days, after all. "Nah, I'm okay."
“If you ever need to, I’m here,” she said with a shrug. Easy as that. Everything with her was easy, as if she’d always been here with me. It didn’t feel like weeks, but decades, lifetimes, and in every one of them she had been mine.
"I am, unfortunately, very crampy,” Frankie said, curling tighter under the blanket, “so I'm thinking I might need to take a rain check on tonight’s extracurricular activities.”
“No worries,” I said. "You need painkillers? I've got just about everything under the sun. How about some tranquilizers?” I tapped a thoughtful finger to my lip. “Although, I might struggle calculating the dosage for a human . . .” Frankie’s gullible eyes widened. “I’m joking.”
“Oh, right.” Her head reared back as she waved a hand at me. “I knew that.”
“I do have the regular human painkillers in the cabinet above the sink though.” I hooked a thumb to the bathroom door. "Want a hot water bottle?” As I turned toward the kitchen, Frankie grinned at me. "What?"
"I don't know.” She shrugged. “You're just being really nice."
“You say that like you’re surprised,” I hedged.
“Not surprised, just happy,” she amended. “I’m not used to being taken care of like this, so thanks.”
"What are fake girlfriends for?” I said with a wink. “Periods are the worst.” I walked to the freezer and produced a bar of chocolate. I tossed it to Frankie, and she caught it one-handed. I gave her a polite golf clap which made her chuckle. “Chocolate,” I instructed. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Do you prescribe chocolate to all of your patients?”
I winked. “Only my favorite ones.”
She started attacking the foiled edge, opening the top corner. “Why do you keep your chocolate in the freezer?”
“That is for another night for you to find out,” I said. “One when you’re feeling up to some more adventures in the bedroom.”
“Intriguing.” She opened the chocolate wrapper, broke off a square, and slumped down on the couch.
If I was being honest with myself, I was looking forward to a long night of sleep too. Between bird feedings and “lessons” with Frankie, I was becoming chronically sleep-deprived. Some days, I was seeing double, and that would not do, especially when I still had to perform surgeries and think strategically. A few days off our nighttime gymnastics would probably be a really good idea. But if Frankie hadn’t suggested it, I would’ve never taken the break. If she wanted me, she could have me, always. I could deny her nothing. Not when every night with her felt like a reawakening of something I’d long lost, like her and I were made of all the same ingredients, an unspoken connection that I was too afraid to name.
Frankie sucked on a square of frozen chocolate and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
My brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry? Because you have your period and are not in the mood?”
“Yeah,” she said, putting on an adorably mopey Eeyore voice.
I shrugged, looking at the date on my phone. “I’m going to be right there with you in like two days.”
Frankie pulled the drawstrings of her hoodie tighter, looking like a cozy couch gremlin. “I just figured you were a sex goddess every day of the month.”
I grinned at the way she said sex goddess . “Sometimes,” I said. “But most of the time, I’m not really feeling it either. Even God rested on the seventh day.”
She snorted. “Well in that case. Want to watch an episode with me?"
Frankie looked up at me with saucer-like puppy-dog eyes, drawing me in. I never thought I’d enjoy being wrapped around someone’s finger. Maybe I’d just always picked the wrong fingers.
"I'll be your hot water bottle," I offered as Frankie lifted the blanket for me to crawl under.
I cuddled into her warm side, her body molding into mine. My sleepy head dropped onto her shoulder. The comfort was instant and overwhelming. I managed to watch only five minutes before I fell asleep.
I didn't know how long I was out before Frankie started moving beneath me. My arms shot out without me opening my eyes, holding her to me like a teddy bear. "Don't go."
She laughed. "We should get you to bed, Dr. Lachlan.”
"Here is fine," I murmured into her hair, burrowing further into the softness of her body.
My cheek rose and fell with her laughter. "You're going to have a wickedly sore neck in the morning."
I let out another unintelligible grumble, but I let her pull me to a stand and walk me to bed, my eyes barely open.
She pulled the sheets back over me, and I smiled at the way she lovingly tucked me in. When she turned to leave, I reached out for her and clumsily grabbed her wrist. "Don't go."
"Finch, I think you're asleep," she whispered.
I shook my head into my pillow. “Not asleep. Stay," I said. "Please?"
"You are adorable when you're half comatose,” she said. When I didn't let her go, she laughed and said, "Okay, fine."
She went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, folding me into her. I was always the dominant one, in charge, but as she wrapped me up in her arms, it felt like she was taking care of me in a way I seldom allowed. She was as much my protector as I was hers. I could let go and just melt into her embrace. Frankie lifted a hand and tenderly swept the hair off my face as I drifted back off to sleep. She made me feel safe and warm and . . . loved. She made me feel loved. And I had no idea what to do with that thought.