Hangovers and Holidays - Heather Long Page 0,34

to hang out with all of them.

Except for the part where I’d brought up budgeting for food. Coop and Jake got it, but Archie just shrugged and said he’d cover all the extras. I didn’t want him paying for everything. They settled it by figuring out how much we’d spent the last few weeks they’d more or less been here, then Archie asked how much I wanted to budget. Since the actual amount kind of left me nauseated for how much money we’d been spending—not four times what was normal, but more like ten—I thought about my dwindling bank account and said if we actually went shopping instead of ordering out all the time, I could probably get through the week on fifty.

“Okay, so you put in fifty,” Archie said. “We’ll take care of the rest.”

Translation—I’d budget, and Archie would pay for everything anyway. He wouldn’t budge on it. I’d kind of hoped Coop or Jake would back me on this, but all they did was volunteer a hundred each, that Ian then matched. Which at the rate they consumed food, was not going to be enough.

I’d figure something out.

“Hey,” Ian murmured, and I dragged my gaze off the words I hadn’t been reading. Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison was a good book, the problem was me, not the book itself. “You’re sighing again. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I told him, and when he gave me a skeptical look, I shook my head. “Really, I’m just overthinking everything.”

“You’re still on the budget.”

I made a face. “No, well, yes, but that’s not quite why I’m sighing.”

“C’mon, babe, I can afford it. Use me for my money,” Archie said, his grin teasing.

“That is the last thing I want to use you for,” I snapped, glaring at him. Jake elbowed him, and Archie let out an oomph.

“Hey, I know that.” His car, like Ian’s, crashed, but neither of them focused on the screen. Instead, they were looking at me. Coop hummed as he zipped past Jake. “But, Frankie, the expenses you’re worrying about are bad because we are here, and I for one, want to be here.”

“Me, too,” Ian chimed in.

“So do frick and frack over here,” Archie said, motioning to Coop and Jake. “I also like ordering in because I don’t cook.”

“You could learn,” I suggested, much to his skeptical, if semi-horrified expression. “Seriously, you can build robots, you can learn to make an omelet. You have good hands and excellent control.”

His slow grin at my declaration had me beet red in a second. Someday, I would not blush when he looked at me like that. Someday. That day was clearly not today. “Good to know you like my hands.”

Coop snorted. “She likes mine, too, and I know how to cook.”

“Pretty sure she likes mine best, and I can cook and clean,” Jake threw in, then tossed a look at me. He could also do hair, but we didn’t discuss that in mixed company, even if they’d seen him brushing my hair before.

“Nope,” Ian interrupted as he stretched his legs out and draped his arm along the sofa so he could stroke his fingers against my bare calf. “I know Frankie prefers the fingering I do.”

“You finger your guitar,” Coop deadpanned. “Not Frankie. When you get that far, we’ll discuss whether you’re in the running.”

Oh. Hell. No.

My face was on fire, and I squirmed to get up from the sofa and escape this discussion, but Ian slid his hand along the underside of my calf and began to massage it. That alone was enough to send shivers ascending my spine. The very last thing I needed was this to turn into an open discussion about sex.

“Depends,” Jake said. “We don’t know that he didn’t get that far.”

I closed my eyes. “I hate you all.”

“No you don’t,” Coop told me, wicked laughter dancing in his eyes. “You do realize the screaming orgasm contest is still on the board.”

“Speaking of which,” Archie said as though it had just occurred to him. “We need to set up that board.”

“No we do not,” I snapped and dragged myself into an upright position. Ian shifted to drop his controller on the table and then lifted himself up with his arms before he scooped me up and settled me in his lap as he took a seat. The speed at which he moved reminded me of why he was on the football team in the first place.

Jake cocked an eyebrow, the quiet question in his eyes muting any humor. Was

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