20
Frankie
The faint traceof his aftershave was still in my hair. Every few inhales, the hint of him tickled up my nose, sending a fresh rush of memory. I turned in bed, burrowing my face into my pillow, unable to stop thinking about that hug. It started so innocent, so cleansing, yet carried so much more unspoken.
He’d been shaken and angry when he left to find George. When they came back, he’d been desolate. He reached for me without hesitation. He neededmycomfort. More surprisingly, I needed his in return.
The way he held me, the words not spoken but so tangible in the air. A man mourning.
Until he became a man … wanting? Hungry?
His arms were strong, and I’d never felt as tethered to the earth. His body was hard and flat. All my softness felt like it was designed to melt against him.
The longer our bodies sought comfort in each other, the more the sadness melted into heat. By the time we broke the hug, my body was on edge. My breaths came fast, and his eyes were dilated as he looked back into my eyes. It would have been so easy to open up to him, to find physical comfort in the distraction of our bodily needs.
Distractions had caused enough trouble.
That heat in his eyes was what haunted me as I tried to sleep. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours.
“Ugh.” I glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. After the day we’d all had, I should have passed out the moment my head hit the pillow.
You know what would help you sleep …
Nope. Nuh-uh. I ignored that horny little voice. If I took care of my physical needs, I would not be able to look at Harrison in the morning without blushing. He’d know exactly what I did. I could already see his knowing little smirk … the way he’d bite his bottom lip, look up at me with his head tilted down. Those emotionally fraught eyes stared at me like he wanted to devour me. The way he looked when we broke the hug.
GAH. No!
I throbbed with need to just get myself off. A simple human function, nothing to it. I wouldn’t even think about him or the way his breath tickled the small hairs of my neck or the brush of something against my center that inflamed me …
Maybe I should see if he was awake. Maybe I should go see if he felt better …
Well. That answered that. I couldn’t be trusted.
I sighed again and stilled when the downstairs door clicked shut.
Adrenaline shot me up in an instant. My heart hammered blood through my ears as they tried to hear anything in the silent night. Had I imagined the sound? But sure enough, a moment later followed the sounds of steps on gravel.
I sprinted out of bed and to the window.
Outside, Joey tossed her bag into the trunk and quietly shut the lid.
I couldn’t move fast enough. Coat, bra, shoes, all be damned. I sprinted out of my room and down the hall to Collette’s, fear like I’ve never felt propelling me.
No. No, please.I can’t say goodbye yet. I’m not ready. Please let me make it.
I pushed open Collette’s bedroom door and a silent sob broke out of me like a gasp.
Collette was there. Sound asleep, mouth partially open, little hands curled by her face in the purple light of her moon lamp.
I closed my eyes and pressed a hand to my hammering heart.
Take a breath. It’s okay.
She wasn’t gone. She didn’t take her.
But then—
I was sprinting again.
