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Flashes of last night assaulted me then, and my stomach rolled with anxious energy. I’d attacked him on the sofa unprovoked, then basically admitted to wanting to do it all along.
“Franky,” I breathed, unsure of what to say next to make things right. He averted his gaze, something like embarrassment had lingered there, confusing me.I should’ve been the one embarrassed. Iwasembarrassed.
I swung back to my packed bag.Fuck.He’d had to go into the guest bedroom to pack up my stuff. He’d found my sketches.
“I can explain,” I said, surprised I could even form words through the marching band wreaking havoc on my frontal lobe.
“Not now. Get cleaned up and changed. We need to get going.”
“I don’t need a fucking doctor, Franky.”I need to make this right.
“It’s not up for debate, Leland. It’s my fault you’re sick. I need to know you’re okay before—” He stopped abruptly, but I finished it for him.
“Before you wash your hands of me?” Why did people find it so easy to get rid of me? To walk away? My father, my mother, my uncle, and even Noon.
“No,” he said, adamantly, as if he knew where my thoughts had gone. “You’ve donenothingwrong.”
“Then why?” I understood that I’d fucked up. He was married, with grown children.Wecouldn’t happen. Shouldn’t happen. But I’d felt his hard cock under me as we tussled for my paintbrush that day on the patio. I’d smelled the musky scent of his cum in the cabin of his boat that one afternoon, and while I couldn’t prove it had anything to do with me, my gut told me that him jerking off hadeverythingto do with me.
“You have the bartending course I’ve been keeping you from, and I’ll be going back into the office earlier than expected.” He lifted his chin, displaying his authority and making it perfectly clear the decision had been made and wasn’t up for discussion.
I wasn’t dealing with the Franky I knew. He’d slipped back into his armor. Before me sat Franklin Kincaid.
“So that’s it? You’re locking this place up and returning to the colossal estate you love so much? Returning to thejobyou fucking love so much? Going back to your wife?” Sarcasm and anger oozed from me. And something else entirely. Something I had no right to feel. Something I didn’t want to name.
“We’re going to be late,” he said, standing, the legs of his stool scraping against the kitchen floor.
“I said I don’t need a damn doctor,” I snapped, charging for my bag. “I’ll shower at my place, and I can drive myself there.”
“You come with me under your own steam, or I carry you there,” he threatened. Any smidgen of warmth that had been lurking below his increasingly frosty exterior had disappeared. He’d do it. He’d drag me there kicking and screaming if he had to.
“You’re not paying the bill,” I spat, matching his coldness. I grabbed up my bag and made my way to the bathroom.
***
Franky paced the small room we’d been confined to in the ER, his expression severe. I’d ended up refusing to see his fancy doctor after asking the billing coordinator for the cost of the visit. Franky’s options were to make a scene trying to keep me there or take me to the hospital emergency room three blocks over where my bullshit state insurance would be happily accepted.
“I told you I was fine. You can leave now. I’ll find a way back to your place to pick up my car.” I’d been diagnosed with the common cold, which had been more fever and exhaustion than anything. Now we were waiting for the discharge papers.
“I’ll wait,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
My temper cooled as I noticed how tired he seemed. Had he gotten any sleep last night? “Franky—” The door swung open then, slamming the brakes on our conversation.
Noon stormed in, and I let out a string of muttered curses. Stacey worked in the ER. I hadn’t seen her, so I’d been optimistic that I’d be in and out of here without Noon knowing.
Without a word, he tilted my head up by my chin, examining me as if he’d heard my face was broken.
“Stop overreacting,” I mumbled around his grip, swatting his fussy hands away. “And isn’t your girlfriend letting you know I was here against hospital policy or something?”
Noon hadn’t spotted Franky over in the corner yet, but how he hadn’t felt the sudden dip in the room’s temperature was beyond me. I didn’t need to see Franky’s eyes to know he wasn’t pleased. I just didn’t know if it was the interruption of what I’d been about to say that had pissed him off or Noon specifically.
“Screw policy,” Noon said. “She thought I was here to see you, though. I was actually surprising her with lunch.”
“Is there anything she can do to speed up the discharge process? I’m ready to get home.”And forget this day, and every other day since meeting Franklin Kincaid, ever happened.
“You’re sick,” he said. “I’m off for the next few days. You can stay with us until you’re back on your feet.”
“It’s a fucking cold, Noon. A pitiful one at that. I have yet to even blow my nose.”
