14. Frankie

I burstfrom the tower like a shadow fleeing light, my heart pounding in my ears. The cold evening air seeps through my clothes, prickling my skin as I run. If I could just disappear, maybe they'd forget I ever existed, allowing me to slip back into the obscurity of my peaceful, albeit lonely, life.

"Frankie," Leo calls, his voice a mix of concern and breathlessness as he jogs up to me. His fingers brush against my bicep gently, like a whisper of silk. "Hey, wait for us."

I don't slow down. Despite being a foot shorter than him, he can catch up faster than I ever could if our roles were reversed. The sticky salty air clings to my nostrils, mingling with the faint scent of blooming night jasmine from nearby gardens.

Exhaling, I shake off the entire confrontation, knowing Bishop is just playing games to rile me up, and I'm letting him.

"Are you alright?" Leo asks.

I must look insane, barreling out of that room and stomping down the steps like a child. I don't bother looking back as I grip my keys, the metal cold and hard in my trembling fingers. I weave between vehicles to get to my Jeep. "We need to talk," I grumble and unlock the doors. "Get in."

"Alright," Leo drawls, opening the door. The whole Jeep bounces as Matteo launches himself into the back seat. I barely catch the moment he jumps in, seeing only how he lands and sinks into the center of the seat without bothering with his seatbelt.

Not my body, not my problem.

"Frankie!" Bishop shouts.

I am not getting stranded on the mainland with him. "Time to go," I grumble and hop into the driver's seat. The engine purrs for me, and before my door is even shut, I peel away from the parking lot, heading straight for the bridge.

There's a line to get off the island, and I nervously tap my thumb on the steering wheel, each tap echoing slightly in the confined space of the Jeep.

"You said we need to talk," Leo reminds me.

Shit, yeah. I glance at him, my thumb missing a beat. "Listen." I swallow, knowing I just have to say it because I put myself into this situation. Now, I have to figure out how to own up to the nonsense that spilled from my mouth. "Bishop is my ex," I begin, feeling the old ache in my chest at his name. Matteo snorts softly from the back, his dark eyes unsettling yet oddly comforting in the rearview mirror.

"I ran into him earlier, and panic took over." My voice drops to a whisper, betraying my frustration with myself. For as long as I could remember, I'd weave stories while under stress—stories that, like today, trapped me more than they freed me. I nudge the Jeep forward, avoiding the rearview mirror, dreading that Bishop might be trailing us.

Leo turns in his seat to face me, one knee bent, showcasing his torn, faded jeans. He's so casual and at ease, looking absolutely comfortable in my chaotic world. "And where is this going, Frankie?" he asks, his tone unreadable as I inch toward the next vehicle.

"It was stupid, but I told him we were together—all of us. I thought it might make him back off." The words fall out of me in a rush, but I'm not about to back down now.

"So let me get this straight." I hear a thread of amusement in Leo's voice, even as the tension thickens. "You ditched us over lunch." He taps a finger to his lips, a gesture so characteristically him that it almost brings a smile to my face.

"You were with him," Matteo says, leaning forward, his head poking between the seats. "I smell him on you."

I slam on the brakes, making his whole body jerk forward, his chin hitting the seat. "Oops." That's what he gets for not wearing his seatbelt.

Luckily, Leo doesn't react to Matteo's words and continues to smile at me as though this entire situation pleases him. "So if we are dating, then how are we also dating Chloe and Amanda?" He hums, his face contorting like he's pondering a real dilemma.

Luckily, we're with the next batch of cars to get off the bridge, and the wind roars as we roll over the stretch of ocean, pausing our discussion. I'm equal parts glad for the break in conversation and irritated by it.

I need us to get a story together for Bishop, who is obnoxiously nosy and thinks he's entitled to my body.

He wouldn't think that if you'd just tell him no.

Not wrong. That dick is too good to say no, but let's move on.

What I end up doing, however, is just tracking the sunset with my eyes as we leave the island. It's beautiful here. Sometimes the sunset is a different color every night. The vibrance of the colors amazes me each and every time—reds and oranges to blues and purples. I've watched the sunset here a hundred times, and I'll watch it a hundred more, falling in love with it all over again.

As my tire hits a nasty pothole, I veer off the bridge and take the road toward my boss's house instead of heading toward the only diner worth going to, assuming it's the right diner.

I throw the car into park and turn to the two damn near strangers in my car. One keeps looking at me like I just made his week, and the other is squinting at me speculatively.

"Where are we, Frankie Vale?" Leo looks smug, as if he thinks I actually brought him home to meet my family.

Joke's on him, I don't have one.

"My boss's house." I adjust so I can look at both of them. "Listen, I messed up. I told Bishop that we were dating to make him jealous. I put my foot in my mouth. I realize this. Can we just get through dinner and at the end, you can break up with me?" An idea sparks in my head. "That's perfect, actually. Make a big show of breaking up with me."

Leo raises a brow and turns to look at Matteo. I swear, it's like they are having a conversation all to themselves. It's weird, like when you've known someone for a long time, and you can just read them from one look alone.

I don't think I've ever had anyone who looked at me like that, let alone who I looked at like that. It's unnerving to have someone know you so well that they can read your emotions better than you can. I hate it and also want it.

My mind is a jumbled mess of push and pull.

"No." Leo turns back to me, his ocean eyes holding a mischievous glint. His shaved head looks out of place, as though he needs a haircut that suits his personality, not one he has because all the rugby players shaved their heads together.

Then his reply sinks in.

"What do you mean, no?" I look back and forth between them before focusing on Matteo. "You agree with him?"

"Of course I agree." He doesn't even hesitate to reply.

I toss my hands up. "What the hell?" I frown, not really understanding it. "Just break it off, and you can go on your way. Date anyone else on campus. Meet someone, go to parties. I'll even show you where the best hiding spots are."

"We don't want to date Chelsy or Avery," Leo replies, and I'm pretty sure he messed up their names on purpose.

Why does that send a little thrill through me?

"Well, I'm not saying you have to date them, but you'll be free to do what you want after this dinner," I point out and hope like hell I'm making sense, but I think I'm failing, because Leo just keeps smiling at me, and it's unnerving me.

"We want to date you, Frankie." Leo sits back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip. "Why do you think we asked you to lunch, and not the other girls?"

"Impossible." I start my Jeep, wondering how this all went to hell, and drive down the street to the dockside diner right next to the Grotto. Bishop and Tori stand out front as they wait.

I'm a little rough on my Jeep as I climb out and stomp to the entrance of the building, only to have Matteo grab me around the waist and press me against the vehicle.

The action is so smooth that my breathing doesn't react until his dark eyes bore through mine, and his pouty lips are so close to me I'm convinced he might kiss me.

And I'd let him.

"What's wrong, my gem?" he says so quietly that I know the words are only for my ears, and once his rumble rips through me, I have to press my thighs together, reminding me another man made me come only hours ago. "This is how couples act, no?"

I see Leo diverting Bishop and Tori behind him, leading them inside.

"They are gone," I whisper, holding onto his biceps, and holy fuck, he's ripped.

Let go.I unlatch my nails from his flesh and drop my hands to my sides.

"You didn't answer my question." He doesn't move away.

"Yeah, I guess this is how couples act." I have no idea. The only relationship I had was with Bishop freshman year, and even then, he kept me hidden.

"Good." He backs away then wraps his fingers around mine, leading me inside the diner.

I am pretty sure I lose a whole five minutes of my life just staring at his hand, because when I blink again, I'm sitting between him and Leo.

Really, how did I get here? And how can I get out of it? My face feels like it's on fire, and my panties are damp all over again.

Matteo leans down, his lips so fucking close to my ear. "Make it look good." His hand drops to my knee, and I do my very best to stop myself from jumping in my seat. Barely.

His hand just lies there, on my knee, his thumb going back and forth on my thigh ever so slowly.

"Oh no," Tori whines, and I swear she stomps her foot. "I have to go."

"What?" She is going to leave me with the three of them? I don't like Tori, but I also don't want to be alone.

"I don't know." She pouts, leaning into Bishop. "Can you tell your mom now really isn't a good time for me?"

Bishop has to peel his eyes away from me. "No." He glances at her phone before focusing on her. "If Mother needs you, then you better go."

He's smiling, that bastard.

Matteo squeezes my knee once, and I can't help but wonder if he is trying to reassure me. Hell, we barely know each other, so why would he even bother to give a shit about my emotions?

"Can you take Bishop back?" Tori hops out of her seat, and I can tell from the tightening around her eyes that she doesn't want to leave.

"No" sits on the tip of my tongue.

"Of course she can," he answers for me.

Matteo's hand tightens ever so slightly. Eventually, he's going to get sick of Bishop, and a part of me wonders who would win in that fight.

"Okay, thanks." Tori pauses, holding her phone to her chest. "Just don't—" She practically bounces with the need to say something, then she stomps away.

Odd.

I glare at Bishop. "What fucking game are you playing?" I hiss.

Bishop leans back, a smirk playing on his lips as he casually drapes an arm over the back of the booth. "So we're dropping the act?" he asks, his voice tinged with mock curiosity. "Fascinating. Tell me, is my cum still in your panties?"

I'm going to kill him.

I'm going to sever his balls using a rusty scalpel after tying him down to a rock where the ocean batters the shoreline. Then, I'm going to watch him bleed out, each wave taking more and more of his blood.

Yes, then I'll cut off his?—

"I guarantee she's imagining killing me." Bishop smirks. "Tell me, did my balls come off first this time?"

"Fuck you," I hiss.

His laugh rolls over me. "Oh, firefly, I did that already today. Are you that needy?"

"Hey, kids, what can I get you to drink?" Saved by the waitress. He's lucky.

"Chocolate shake and fries," I say and glare at Bishop. "His tab."

"Sounds great, I'll have the same." Bishop continues to wave that stupid smirk in my face.

"For us as well," Leo says, and I swear he's trying not to laugh.

"You are making this awkward," I hiss to Bishop as the waitress walks away. My hands clench the table to keep me from throttling him.

"I don't think I am, firefly," he whispers. "In fact, I don't think I'm making it awkward enough," he says darkly. "I want you to prove you three are dating."

Matteo's hand squeezes me once before his thumb continues to make soft comforting circles.

"I don't have to prove a damn thing to you," I spit at him.

"I don't want you to make out with them." He tsks under his breath, leaning closer, his voice barely a whisper over the din of the diner. His eyes gleam with a hint of challenge. "No, baby, I want them to make you come."