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I can’t tell her the truth, I’m not a good enough actress to turn it on and off like that. Besides, it’s not that far-fetched, is it? That Julian and I could date for real? I’m not that undateable, am I?
“It wasn’t supposed to be a date.” I stick as close to the truth as I can. “Emma asked me to go to the movie with her, and Julian just happened to be there with Liam.”
Lauren busts out laughing. “Either Emma tricked you into taking her on a date, or Julian did. Which was it?”
I shrug, but Lauren isn’t satisfied with my non-answer.
“Oh, come on, Frankie, give me something. My love life is dead in the water, and Sophie and Theo are no fun now that they’re in epilogue land.”
“Epilogue land?”
“You know. Happily ever after? The drama is over, the book is done, now they just cameo in everyone else’s romances as the disgustingly happy couple. Maybe they’ll throw some events that are the catalysts for their friends’ romances.”
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous, Lauren. Our lives are not a romance novel. Mr. Sutton and Sophie could still break up or something, you never—”
Lauren slaps her hand across my mouth, shutting me up. “Blasphemer! Theo and Sophie are endgame. Don’t you dare jinx them.”
She pulls her hand from my mouth, glaring until I nod in agreement. “Sorry. There’s nothing to tell, Lauren. I’m pretty sure Emma knew they would be there and arranged it on purpose. But it was nice to see Julian.” I’m surprised because I mean it. Watching the movie with him felt right. Giggling to myself at how he jumped at the scary moments, the way he gripped my hand, but never enough to hurt me—all of it felt natural.
“He’s going to be my date for the launch party,” I blurt out just as our ramen arrives.
Lauren slaps the table. “I knew it! Making future plans? I knew there was something between you. You can't fool this nose—I always smell a romance.” She taps her nose, wiggles her eyebrows and grins. “Did he ask you last night? Or did you ask him? Tell me everything. Have you thought about what you’re going to wear?”
When I confess to not having thought about it, Lauren launches into a new inquisition of my wardrobe. By the time we’ve finished eating, she’s already planned an entire shopping day for next weekend and invited both Sophie and Emma to join us. The subject of me and Julian dating dropped. For now.
Nine
Julian
A week later, I’m not sure who I’m going to kill first—Derek, Lauren, or Frankie.
Okay, probably not Lauren. I can deal with the smirks and winks she gives me every time she and Frankie leave together. Or how she watches me and Frankie like a hawk any time the three of us are in the same vicinity. But I’m ninety-percent sure it’s just because she’s looking out for Frankie, so I don’t mind.
Derek watches us like a hawk too. But he’s looking for a crack in our armor. A sign of weakness. Any hint that we’re not really together. At first, I thought he was just being his usual asshole self, but the more I see how he watches Frankie, the more creeped out I am by him.
But I still don’t think I’ll kill him. Not yet, at least. He can’t hurt us by looking, even if I’m itching for a chance to punch his stupid face.
But Frankie?
I really might kill her. Or, to be more accurate, I think she might kill me. Every time she twitches or startles, I want to know what frightened her. When she swallows her words, I want to know why she’s nervous and what she was going to say. And I hate how I can’t seem to remember that this is a fake relationship.
We’ve gone to lunch together a few times, mostly to give Frankie a break from Derek hovering nearby. And after I caught him watching her ass as she pushed through the front doors two nights ago, I started walking her to her car at the end of the night. But we haven’t spent any time together away from the prying eyes of Mailbox, or putting on a show for our colleagues.
I know I’m too much, too needy, too invested, but I have to admit that every evening when we get to our cars—her Prius and my truck looking exactly as ridiculous next to each other as I’m sure we do—I climb into the cab annoyed and angry. Angry at the way she immediately puts distance between us as soon as we’re out of sight of the office, when all I want to do is keep her close. Annoyed with myself for being angry in the first place. We’re not actually dating. She doesn’t want me for anything more than protection. I’m an unpaid bodyguard, that’s it.
I just have to keep reminding myself of it.
Especially on days like today when the hood she’s pulled over her head isn’t stopping the rain from gathering on the tip of her nose, and she keeps scrunching it to shake the water off because her arms are full. I tried to take some of it from her as she came out of the elevator, but the stubborn woman wouldn’t let me help.
“How many mugs are you taking home? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were cleaning out your office,” I ask as we get to the parking structure.
“It’s nothing.” Frankie shrugs and the bag looped over her shoulder slips, dragging it down to her elbow. I catch the small boxes and travel mug hooked in her fingers as they tumble forward with the weight of the bag.
“What is all this?” I turn the small box over in my hands. It’s a Funko pop character I’ve never heard of. “Who is this? Off-brand Captain America?”
Frankie mumbles something about “all might” that I don’t understand while she struggles to get the bag securely on her shoulder. Impatient, I hook my fingers under the strap and pull it off her arm, fitting the handle into my elbow and tucking the two Funko pop boxes on top.
“What was that? Thank you, Julian, for helping me. I should have let you take that bag sooner?” My teasing words ring in the silence.
