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“And who picked me up like a sack of potatoes and kissed me again, huh? That was you.”
Those emerald eyes are staring up at me, flashing with a fire I didn’t know existed until now. Drawn in by them, I whisper in her ear. “Guilty as charged.”
Frankie squeaks and pulls back, the playfulness gone from her expression as she takes in how close we are, how big I am, and exactly what’s happening. What is happening? Are we flirting? Negotiating? The second I think about what I’m doing, all the reasons this is a terrible idea come flooding back to me.
Frankie backs up a few steps, and I let her. Shit. I did it again. Too much. Too big. Eyes wide, she takes a deep breath.
“Ground rules. No flirting. No kissing. No manhandling me.”
No flirting and no kissing, I understand. I won’t argue because that way leads to temptation and more confusion. But… “Manhandling?”
“You can’t just pick me up and cart me around like a toddler. It’s annoying.”
I hold my hands up. “Got it. No manhandling.” Loud laughter down the hall reminds me of why we’re here and why we need to be careful. “I don’t want Liam, or Emma, to get the wrong idea, so I’ll go along with the no kissing and no flirting rules.” I drop my hands, take a step closer, and lower my voice. “Obviously, we’ll have to keep it professional at work. But all bets are off if Derek tries anything.”
Frankie crosses her arms, folding in on herself at the mention of Derek’s name, the reminder of why we’re doing this. “Good. And this is only until the launch party, right? Until Derek leaves me alone. Right?”
“Right.”
Eight
Frankie
“I saw you.”
Emma’s grin is big enough to see from the corner of my eye when I slam my foot on the brake.
“You saw what?” The misty drizzle gathering on my windshield collects into larger drops, and I flick my wipers on and off to clear it.
“You arguing with the really hot guy.”
Fuckity fuck. “Um…who?” Playing dumb never works with my sisters, but Grady and Colin fell for it every time. I pray that, for once, Emma acts like the latter.
Her eyes roll so hard I can hear it. “Tall, dark brown hair? Had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of? He was talking to you and Mr. Lockwood.”
Relief floods through me so fast my foot releases the brake and I have to tap it back in a rush so we don’t roll into the car in front of us. “Oh. Derek.”
Emma sighs. “Mmmmm, Derek. He’s so hot.” Great, even a sixteen-year-old is falling for his act. Not on my watch.
“And an asshole. I thought you were into Liam.”
The light turns green, and I ease forward, avoiding the orange construction cones lining the right side of the road. Emma giggles. “I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy looking.”
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Lauren.” I shake my head, keeping an eye on the bundled-up guy walking along the side of the road towing an overflowing shopping cart. “But I’m serious. He’s a complete douche—don’t fall for men like him.”
“How do you know?”
Emma’s question stirs up memories from the last ten years. Of men and boys assuming they had a right to tell me what to do, or worse, make decisions for me without my knowledge because they were “looking out for me” or thought they were being helpful because they knew better. My heart thumps in time with the windshield wipers—thump, thump, thump, thump.
“I just do.”
Silence.
“Okay, but how do you know? Have you ever had a boyfriend? And how do you know if you’re dating someone? Like, properly dating and not just ‘talking’ or ‘hanging out’ or something? And how do you know if a guy is an asshole?”
“Alright, one question at a time here. You know because they act like an ass. But sometimes they hide it well, so you need to see how they treat other people, too, not just you. If someone is only nice to you and horrible to everyone else, then that’s a red flag, got it?”
Emma nods.
