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She was halfway through her third spring roll, some of the color returning to her pallid skin.
“Wine?” I offered, pushing myself off the edge of the counter and walking toward the wine cupboard.
“I’d kill for some right now, please,” she mumbled, and I grinned as she hopped up onto one of the barstools.
“Red, white, any preference?”
“Whatever’s tastiest.”
“That narrows it down,” I teased, but I opened the cupboard anyway, searching the racks of wines.
“You have a whole pantry for just wine?”
I glanced around to find her gaping at me. “These are just my favorites,” I explained. I pulled out a rich red and closed the door. “The rest are kept in the cellar downstairs.”
“Ah yes, silly me.” She nodded sarcastically. “How could I forget the entire cellar just downstairs?”
“If you’re energetic enough to talk smack,” I crooned, pouring her a glass and handing it to her, “then you can shovel a bit more food onto your plate. Go on.”
She’d already cleared the spring rolls and was eyeing the next dish hopefully. “What about you?” she asked, but I waved her off.
“I’ll eat, don’t you worry about me.”
I watched her scarf down more food, the knot in my gut loosening with each bite she took.
We’d spent the better part of the day at the hospital. I knew that Frankie hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast; I could see it in the slope of her spine, in the exhaustion dragging on her eyelids.
Once she claimed she was too full to even move, we sat together on the sofa. Frankie’s head flopped back, resting on the back of the sofa, her eyelids fluttering.
“Are you sure you’ve eaten enough?” I pressed.
Blindly, she reached out and patted my thigh. “If I eat anything else,” she panted. “I’m gonna ruin your expensive rugs.”
I smiled at her little jab. “Hey,” I said, prompting her to look at me. “What happened today – if you wanna talk, I’m here to listen.”
She smiled tiredly and leaned forward, her lips brushing mine.
Almost instantly my heart rate doubled, slamming into my ribcage like it wanted to escape.
“What was that for?” I asked, a little embarrassed that I was already breathless.
Frankie shrugged and kissed me again. “Because,” she mumbled, teeth tugging gently on my lower lip, “I wanted to.” A kiss. “Because you look good.” Another kiss. “Because you’re always doing so much for everyone else.”
My heart fluttered hopelessly. My body turned pliable in her arms.
“Hard to argue with that,” I murmured, somehow managing to find a sliver of mischief while her hands explored the length of my body.
“Always so snarky,” she tsked. “Just shut up and let me kiss you.”
“Whatever you want.” I chuckled, losing grip on my composure the longer she swallowed my breaths.
“Finally,” she sighed, one of her hands looping around the back of my neck so she could deepen the kiss. Her other hand wandered around my waist, pushing at the restriction of my jacket.
Wordlessly, I shrugged it off, refusing to break away from her for even a second.
Despite the chill of the air-conditioned room heat spilled into my skin, burning where the tips of her fingers grazed my body.
“This is nice,” she purred, hooking her leg over my knee. “I could stay like this forever, I’d be happy.”
