Changes and Chocolates: Untouchable Book Two Read online

  I’d already stayed hours later than I’d planned. Tabbing open my phone, I went to messages and sent a group text.

  Ian is taking me home. Don’t disrupt party.

  Not that the sound level from the back had diminished.

  Done, I pocketed my phone and took his hand. His bike was only a few steps away. He freed the second helmet and offered it to me as he pulled on his own. We were both in shorts. He opened one of the saddlebags and pulled out a jacket, then held it over to me.

  I hesitated.

  “It’s going to be chilly on the bike.” A weird thing to think, but it was cool out here. I slid it on as he straddled the bike. I could swim in the jacket, but I managed to push up the sleeves enough to free my hands, and then I climbed on behind him and wrapped my arms around him.

  His whole body seemed to relax as he released a sigh. Pressing his hand over mine for a moment, he said, “Hang on.” Three steps to back us up, and I barely caught sight of Archie standing just inside the alcove leading to his front door.

  How long had he been standing there?

  My heart wrenched, but Ian was already gliding between the cars and down the drive. In short order, we were on the road, and then I just held on as the breeze whipped over us. The engine rumbling beneath us was kind of soothing, and there was no one talking to me. Nothing to compete with the tangle of thoughts and knotty emotions binding me up. Even when we stopped for traffic lights, Ian would only put his hand over mine until the light changed, then he was reaching for the handlebars again. Yes, the air was cool against my legs, but I wasn’t cold.

  I’d never been at such an impasse before. I was furious with them and wanted to comfort them in the same breath. Hating the quiet disappointment on Archie’s bruised face, even as I wanted to smack him for keeping the truth from me, twisted with the fact he’d discovered his dad was having an affair.

  He claimed he was used to it, but how did you get used to one parent betraying another? I could barely wrap my mind around Mom dating a married man—an obviously married man. She’d met Archie’s mother. There was no way she didn’t know. At the same time, the guys kept making these choices for me, about me. My own guilt just made a total muck of it all. I wanted to throw up.

  Ian slowed as we reached my apartment complex. The trip had taken too short a time, and in the same breath, it felt like years since I’d left. We coasted down the slight hill to where I usually parked.

  Mom’s car sat in the carport. I blew out a breath, my insides were shaky, but before I could get off the bike, Ian caught my hand. “Can I come up?”

  With Mom there?

  “That’s not a good idea,” I answered far more shakily than I cared to admit. I squeezed his hand once, then tugged. He let me go and I climbed off, then unbuckled the helmet.

  He dropped the kickstand on his bike, shutting it off so it didn’t continue to rumble, even if it was quiet. After stripping off his own helmet, he took mine then said, “Frankie…”

  “Don’t,” I begged. Fuck, I’d been reduced to begging. “Please just let me go inside and hopefully just go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “I know.”

  The hell of it all. I believed him when he said he was sorry. Coop, too. Even Jake—despite the fact the only thing he was sorry about was that I got hurt.

  Rising on my tiptoes, I pressed a kiss to his cheek, but pushed away when he would have turned his head. “Thank you for bringing me home. Please don’t fight with Archie.”

  “He…”

  “Didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” I could admit that, and Ian sucked in a deep breath. “He was very clear in asking me, and he listened to everything I said. I’m mad because you guys kept things from me, and I’m angry with him because he knew what was happening and told all of you and not me. But I’m not angry at him for last night.”

  I wasn’t that much of a hypocrite.

  “Not sure I can say the same,” Ian said. “But it doesn’t change anything for me…I can dislike it, but never you. Call me tomorrow?”

  Call him. Not he would call me.

  “If I don’t—will you let me have the time?”

  “I can see you Monday,” he said, though it clearly pained him to say it.

  “Thank you.”

  “If you need a ride tomorrow—to get your car, tell me. No strings, I’ll pick you up and take you over there and leave you alone.”

  “Ian…”

  “I mean it.” He studied me intently. “Nothing’s changed for me, Frankie. I still want to take you to Homecoming. I still want to date. I still want you.”

  Tears burned in my eyes, and I had to look away. “You’re killing me, Ian.”

  “No, I’m caring about you,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek. “Now go inside, I’m not leaving until I see you safely behind the door.”

  My heart still twisting, I made myself walk away. I made it all the way up the stone steps to the back door before I glanced back. As promised, Ian stood there, helmet in hand, watching me.

  When he caught my gaze, he gave me a small smile. Tugging the keys from my pocket, I unlocked the door and gave him a little wave before I slipped inside and locked it behind me.

  The kitchen was dark, save for a single low light over the stove. Tiddles trotted out to meet me and rubbed against my legs. Tory blinked at me from the sofa as I grabbed a soda out of the fridge and then headed toward my room. The living room was also dark with only a low light burning in the hall for navigation.

  Mom’s door was closed. There was no light under it. And no sounds drifted out—thank God. I had no idea if Archie’s dad was there, and I really hoped he wasn’t. To be honest, Mom might not even be in there, car or not. All three cats followed me into my room.

  It hadn’t changed since I left to go to the party, and at the same time, it seemed utterly different. After I changed into a tank top and sleep shorts, I crawled onto the bed and pulled out my phone to let the guys know I was home safe, and a series of messages and notifications were waiting on the screen.

  Jake: You home safe?

  Coop: Check in, okay?

  Ian: I’m hanging out for another ten. Just in case.

  Archie: …

  My stomach cramped and I ran my hand over Tiddles as he bumped against me. Tabby had already claimed one of my pillows, and Tory jumped up into the window and began to groom. Tiddles crawled into my lap and purred as I stared at the messages.

  Finally, I shook off the stupor and sent a Home to Jake and Coop. To Ian, I typed: It’s quiet. I’m in bed. You can go. Thank you for the ride.

  Jake: All good? No issues with Mom?

  Coop: Not sure if we’re staying tonight. Jake said he’d give me a ride home. Text if you need me.

  Ian: Okay. I’m a phone call away. I mean it. Probably going home myself.

  Be safe, I sent to Ian, and to Jake I just said, No issues. Good night.

  Coop didn’t need an answer, but I sent a K anyway. That left Archie. Another notification popped up from Instagram, and I sighed. How many videos or pictures were there going to be of Ian punching Archie? I didn’t want to know.

  Archie’s message still had three dots like he was typing something but hadn’t sent it or wasn’t done.

  I took a long drink of my Coke, then typed in: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told Ian and Coop.

  Time seemed to elongate, and I was debating switching over to my laptop and queuing up YouTube videos to watch until I could sleep, when the phone buzzed.

  Archie: You didn’t do anything wrong.

  Chewing my lip, I stared at it.

  Archie: I should have told you about our parents. That’s on me.

  Archie: I wish like fuck you had stayed here.

  Frankie: I know. Thought I’d be stuck. All the cars.

  Archie: Don’t hate me, Frankie.

  The last message wrenched me.

  Frankie: I don’t hate you.


  Archie: Do you regret last night? Because I don’t.

  Did I? I told Ian I didn’t, but I had to ask myself.

  I nudged Tiddles off my lap and curled back against the pillows. It still smelled like Archie. One side of it. The other kind of smelled like Jake. I closed my eyes when I dragged the covers up because I could smell Archie on the sheets, too. It was almost like he was there, and it made me miss him.

  I missed all of them.

  As much as I hated their choices, I didn’t want to fight with them.

  Frankie: I don’t. If you’d told me before—last night might not have happened. I’m still mad, but… no, I don’t regret being with you.

  Not when I could still feel him. That was the one sensation I hadn’t been able to shake all night. The feel of him pushing into me, it was still there. The gentle ache of it. The way he’d wrapped around me after.

  The best thing I should do was to stop talking to him.

  Archie: Thank God. I can still taste you.

  I groaned.

  Archie: Fair warning. I’m not giving up on us. I like what we have and what we could be.

  Frankie: Even if my mom is…

  Archie: …

  Archie: …

  Archie: Your mom and my dad are their own problem. They aren’t us. Don’t let them define us.

  But what about… my head hurt.

  Frankie: How is your face?

  A selfie popped onto the screen. The nosebleed was done, but there was a definite red mark on his cheekbone and just below his eye, another nearer to his nose.

  Archie: How could you not adore this face?

  I laughed. That was so Archie.

  Archie: I think it gives me character.

  Frankie: I think you’re crazy.

  Archie: About you.

  Another image popped up. The one of the two of us in the living room getting ready to go out to dinner, and my breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t realized he’d been looking at me. His expression was both intent and wondering as he smiled at me.

  Archie: See?

  Frankie: I’m going to sleep.

  Archie: Night, Frankie. Call me tomorrow?

  Frankie: No promises. Night, Archie. Feel better.

  Archie: I’ll feel better when you’re not mad anymore.

  Yeah, I didn’t know how to answer that one, so I closed the messages and stared at the ceiling.

  After putting the phone on silent and do not disturb, I turned it face down on the nightstand, then dragged my laptop up and loaded YouTube. I had no idea what I wanted to watch, so I just picked a channel and turned it on.

  Movie flubs was as good as anything. But I barely saw the screen as Tiddles curled up next to me and I began to pet him. I was so tired.

  But I wasn’t going to sleep. When I turned my face toward the pillow and took a deep breath, I sighed.

  I had no idea what to do.

  None.

  Not good.

  Fightin’ Words

  Coop: She’s home.

  Jake: She texted. How was she, Bubba?

  Bubba: How you’d expect. Her mom’s car

  is here. I’m staying in the parking lot

  for a few.

  Coop: Good idea.

  Jake: Coming back after?

  Bubba: Probably not.

  Jake: We all need to talk.

  Coop: I think we said enough.

  Jake: …

  Coop: We did. We fucked up.

  Bubba: Some of us more than others.

  Archie: If you can punch me

  you can say my name.

  Jake: Not now, Arch.

  Archie: Now is good.

  Coop: …

  Jake: …

  Bubba: If you’re waiting for an

  apology, don’t hold your

  breath.

  Archie: Wouldn’t dream of it.

  Coop: ...

  Archie: Told you she spent the night.

  Jake: …

  Bubba: And skipped some key details.

  Archie: It was and is none of your

  business.

  Jake: Frankie is our business.

  Coop: Yes, she is.

  Bubba: You had sex with her. That

  explains so much about her reactions.

  Archie: Fuck you, Bubba.

  I don’t owe any of you

  explanations. Or do you want

  to ask Jake about his night with her?

  Jake: …

  Archie: Or what she and Coop got up to?

  Coop: …

  Archie: Here’s one—what about you?

  Bubba: What about me what?

  Archie: You jealous because I got

  there first?

  Jake: Don’t be a dick.

  Coop: Guys this isn’t helping.

  Jake: What happens with Frankie

  is private.

  Bubba: Archie—you’re a jackass.

  Archie: That was my point.

  We don’t talk about

  Frankie like this.

  Coop: We’re not starting it.

  Archie: Too late.

  Bubba: ...

  Jake: Guys...

  Coop: Really not helping.

  Bubba: Look, we said us.

  Fine. But you told her about

  your plans after sex. You…

  Archie: Should have done what? Told her first?

  Jake: Maybe.

  Archie: Well, let’s see. Jake, did you

  bring it up at your slumber party?

  Coop: You know what.

  It’s done. Now we

  have to FIX it.

  Bubba: She knows about her mom too.

  Jake: Yeah. Don’t know

  how to fix that one.

  Archie: We can’t. This is Edward’s thing.

  The problem is when he dumps

  her mom.

  Jake: One way of looking at it.

  Coop: Cause that helps

  Jake: She texted. That’s something.

  Coop: Yeah. I’ll try to see her

  tomorrow.

  Bubba: Don’t. She needs space.

  Jake: She and I have a date.

  Bubba: When?

  Jake: Tomorrow.

  Archie: Good luck.

  Jake:

  Bubba: She may not want to go.

  Coop: And you can’t make her.

  Jake: Not losing her.

  Not after all this time.

  Archie: Finally, you’re speaking my language.

  Coop: One other thing.

  Thorns.

  Jake: He was a no show.

  Coop: He was there.

  Jake: ?????

  Archie: WTF

  Coop: Note on her car. He saw she was sad.

  So he gave her space. He said she’d hear

  From him soon.

  Bubba: …

  Coop: On the upside, waiting for him meant

  she stuck around long enough for us to

  to talk to her.

  Jake: On the downside, there’s

  some loser after our girl.

  Archie: Key words there: our girl.

  Chapter Four

  Like Mother…

  I'd had exactly one hangover in my life. On the one hand, I was aware my life hadn’t been that long, but on the other hand, that single hangover was a miserable experience. The guys had gotten several boxes of wine, and while Archie complained about the quality, we all gave it a shot. I'm pretty sure I drank my body weight that day.

  However, the biggest thing I remembered about drinking that wine was how exceptionally crappy I’d felt the next morning. I knew, logically, hangovers were about dehydration. Knowing and experiencing, however, were two totally different things.

  When I woke up the Sunday morning after the party, my head pounded, my stomach churned, my mouth tasted like ass, and I felt like crap. There was no way the single glass of wine and that third of a bottle of beer that I had drunk had cause
d me a hangover. No, if anything, I’d been stone cold sober by the time I left with Ian. I’d definitely been stone cold sober while I was talking to the guys in text messages before I went to sleep.

  No, this hangover had everything to do with raging disappointment. Disappointment in the guys was bad enough. Worse was the disappointment in myself. And God help me, the disappointment in my mother.

  As I stared at the sunlight filtering in underneath the blinds, a sinking realization hit me. I had to deal with my mother today. I guessed the cats understood how bad I felt. Because they hadn’t woken me up at their normal 6 AM for breakfast. Once I opened my eyes and started shifting around, Tiddles’ complaints suddenly increased in volume over wanting his breakfast. Tory and Tabby weren't much better. In fact, they were currently walking back and forth over my bladder, a surefire way to get me out of bed.