She abandoned her chair and crawled over to lay on her back too. Rachel had star patterns on her ceiling. I bet they were cool when the lights were out.
“I do,” she admitted. “But we don’t discuss that. It’s more effective if I’m the friend they need to be wary of so they don’t do something stupid again and hurt you.”
“They’re not going to,” I told her, and she linked her arm with mine.
“Frankie, honey, I love you, but guys are dumb. They do dumb shit all the time. They mess with your head, and they turn things inside out. They can be the best and worst thing that ever happened to you.”
The vehemence in her voice had me cutting a look at her sideways.
“What’s his name? I’ll ask Jake to go kick his ass. He likes beating up jerks.”
“Whose?” But the flicker in her expression there held just the barest hint of guilt. “Fuck,” she said with a sigh.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I promised, squeezing her arm. “But now I’m more worried about those hickeys. You kind of go through girls like tissue paper, and if you’re going to throw guys in…” Though… “I thought you didn’t like guys.”
“I don’t, as a rule. I don’t. Most of them are too controlling, and I prefer vag and boobs. Not going to lie. But there are some guys…”
I bit my lip and glanced over at her, and Rachel sighed.
“I promise, I’m fine,” she told me and met my gaze. “I’m working on figuring things out. But I don’t want to get into it right now. Let me focus on you? It helps to get out of my head.”
I studied her for a beat. “I adore you, you know that, right?”
“The feeling is mutual. I promise, I’m not running away and obsessing over my crush on you to keep myself safe from feelings elsewhere.” She made a face. “Or at least I’m mostly sure, because I’m ninety-nine percent certain you’re never going to throw those guys over for me.”
The corner of my mouth curved. “Only ninety-nine percent sure?”
“Well, they are guys and I am me, so there’s always a chance, however remote.” Humor filled her eyes, and I chuckled. “See, there’s always hope. Now, tell me about what’s got you all tangled up, because that boudoir photography idea is killer and I know those guys would lose their minds. Tell me everything, and I’ll see if I can help you figure it out.”
And just like that, I told her everything. Maddy. Eddie. The DNA tests. The secret trust. The mysterious grandparents. Trina. Carly. Alicia. Jake’s sisters. The fact that Ian wouldn’t tell me what his parents said, just that he was handling it and it would be fine. He asked me to trust him, and I was. I told her about the music we’d been recording and the fact that we were all still waiting to hear back on what the producers thought. And that I was terrified I might have screwed up his chances. Finally, I told her about Harvard and the other colleges.
By the time I finished, my throat ached and I swiped away the tears I hadn’t even realized had been falling. “I shouldn’t be crying about any of this, life is pretty awesome…”
“Awesome doesn’t mean stress free,” she murmured. “Good stress is still stress, and, honey, you’re living with four guys. I think you should get a fucking medal because you haven’t killed them.”
I laughed, wiping away more of the tears as I sat up. “They’re not so bad. I mean…they have their moments. Archie is never going to accept a grocery budget. He orders in even on nights we’re supposed to be cooking, and I think he finds mac and cheese a personal affront.”
“I shouldn’t ask, but now I have to know… Why do you say that?”
“Because I used to stock it. It’s cheap and good food for an emergency. It’s also filling, and you can make it with just water, no butter or milk, though it is kind of gross that way, it’s still better than nothing.”
“Uh huh.” Rachel eyed me. “And?”
“And the boxes keep disappearing from the kitchen. If he shops with me, they vanish from the cart. If I do manage to get them home, they disappear from the cupboards. I actually hid two boxes in my dresser the other day. So far, he doesn’t seem to have found them. But…yeah, those are not things that make me too crazy. Coop and