“Here, give me that.” She reaches forward to take the tray, but he holds it back.
“It’s hot, JuJu,” he says, like his instinct is to protect her, to care for her, and how many nicknames does one girl get? One from everybody, probably.
The guy—Frankie, she said—lumbers closer to the table, and I slouch in my seat. He’s not graceful; he just . . . is.
It’s whatever. I’m not jealous.
He sets the tray down and then turns back, wrapping Peak in a hug so tight she coughs. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he says, his voice booming. Something tells me this one doesn’t have a quiet setting.
“I didn’t even know you were here!”
I slide my chair a little farther away, feeling like I’m intruding on something private.
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“I got back late last night. I was actually going to head over to your place in a bit. I thought you’d still be sleeping!”
Peak shakes her head. “You got home yesterday, and your mom already put you to work? Where’s Martha? We need to have a word.”
“Nah, I was just hanging out with her in the kitchen, and I said I’d take this one out. I was hoping it might be you, with the whole cinnamon thing.”
“I’m touched you remembered.” Her voice is teasing, but the sentiment sounds true enough.
“JuJu, you’ve drilled that into my head for the last three years. How could I forget?”
I roll my eyes. Okay, so I’ve got three years of history to contend with here. Perfect.
“Oh my god,” she says again, taking a step back to look at him. “I can’t believe you’re really here! I missed you, you jerk.” She punches him in the arm. “Why haven’t you been emailing me? I worry!”
“Do you know how hard it is to get sailor mail out from the boat?” He yawns and wipes at his face. “Sorry, jet lag. What are you doing later? You want to get a bite somewhere that’s not here?”
And okay, even I have my limits. I clear my throat, and both their heads snap toward me like they forgot I was here. It would be comical if I wasn’t so pissed off.
“Oh. Oh god, I’m sorry, Ridley,” Peak says.
I stare at her blankly, not sure what to say. “It’s okay”? Because it isn’t. But I don’t want to be rude. Especially since I’m really in no position to be. I knew her forgiving me was too good to be true.
“Ridley, this is Frankie. Frankie, this is Ridley.”
“I gathered that,” I say, standing up to hold out my hand. I try to make it sound funny, like I’m laughing it off, but the way he squeezes my hand hard while he shakes it suggests that didn’t come through.
“Nice to meet you,” Frankie says, not dropping eye contact as he squeezes a little harder.
“Likewise.” And okay, this handshake is going on way too long.
“Frank,” Peak says, swatting his hand. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Sorry, force of habit.” He lets go of my hand and crosses his arms. It’s amazing they can even meet across his pecs. I wonder if that’s what Peak likes in a guy, someone all huge and beefy and loud. Someone the exact opposite of me. My heart rate picks up, and it gets a little harder to breathe.
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Peak comes and stands by me, nudging my shoulder and lacing our fingers together. The panic inside goes from a boil to a simmer, and when she smiles at me, it drops down to barely anything at all. “Be nice, Frankie. This one’s important.”
I look at her when she says that, my eyes wide, but she’s still looking at the beast across from us. His shoulders drop a little, not like he’s disappointed, but as if he just completely relaxed. “Really?” he asks, tipping his head down while he looks at her. I expected something else, alpha male anger maybe, but instead, he looks kind of happy?
“Yeah,” she says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “And I’d like it very much if you