Then Frankie ran, and she knew the only thing in the world she wanted was for him to chase her.
Nineteen
Frankie Leigh
The front door creaked as I slipped inside. The sun was just rising over the horizon and steadily climbing to the sky, everything stilled and hushed except for the birds that were twittering through the trees.
I kept my footsteps light as I stepped into the house, carefully clicking the door shut behind me and twisting the lock. I tiptoed the rest of the way in, head down as I headed for my room.
“Where have you been all night, young lady?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, hand smacking across my chest, a shocked shriek echoing through the living room. Trying to quiet my raging pulse and slow my breaths, I glared at Carly where she was sitting on the couch, legs curled under her and an arm leaned on the armrest.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You scared the shit out of me,” I whisper shouted, looking around to make sure we hadn’t disturbed Josiah.
“What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? Sneaking out in the middle of the night? I’ve been beside myself worried about you.”
My eyes narrowed at her. “You mean you noticed I was gone and you’re nosy AF and were dying to know where I went.”
She shrugged. “Same diff. Now sit your butt down and spill.”
“Nothing to spill. I woke up early and went for a walk.”
This time it was her eyes narrowing, calling my lie. “You should probs take a look at yourself in the mirror before you start making claims like that. You look like a scarecrow. Have you seen your hair? And I know exactly what that hair means.” She spun her finger around me in a circle like she was offering up the evidence.
Unease spiraled, and I shifted on my feet, trying not to sneak a peek at myself in the mirror hanging in the hall.
Too late.
Good lord.
I ruffled my fingers through the rat’s nest, all frizzy, matted curls sticking out two feet from my head, smashed down on one side from where I’d fallen asleep with it wet.
Rivers of mascara ran beneath my eyes.
Lips red and swollen.
Cherry on top?
My shirt was on backward.
I was giving the walk of shame a whole new name.
“So, I took a shower last night before I went to sleep.” I hiked my shoulder in what I hoped looked like indifference.
Totally casual.
Zero guilt.
While this smidgen of worry and a whole ton of bliss were vying for dominance.
Both roared through my veins. Inciting a feeling I knew there would be no escaping.
Hell, there’d never be any escaping that boy. I’d been his since the moment I’d met him. I’d been a fool trying to pretend like it wasn’t the truth.
“Uh, yeah. Question is, just where did you take this shower? Now haul your skinny ass over here and dish the dirty deets.” She pointed at the spot beside her.
My lips pursed.
She reached out and grabbed a wine glass from the table, pointing at me around it. “Don’t even try it to deny it.”
Blowing out a sigh, I shuffled over and flopped onto the couch with a big groan. “What have I done?”
“Evan, I’m thinkin’.”
I smacked her thigh. “Not funny.”
She giggled into the rim of her glass. “It’s hysterical, actually.”
I glared up at her. “Don’t make fun of the craziness that is my life. Maybe pay a little attention to yours. You are the one who is drinking at six in the mornin’.”
“Well, when my ass has been up since one when you went sneaking out the door, I’m not sure what else you expected me to do.”
“Sleep?”
She released a giddy laugh. “Sleep when I’m this excited? I do not think so, my friend. Might as well be a kid getting ready to go on a trip to Disneyland in the morning. I bet Josiah my next month’s rent that you and Evan would hook up by the end of the week. This girl here is going on a shopping spree. Score!”
She lifted her glass like she was offering herself a congratulatory cheer.
“You are sick, you know that? And I hate to break it to you, but we did not hook up. I just went over there to talk to him.”
My mind flashed through a sequence of images.
Jarring and whipping and stirring.
The desperate kisses. The gripping and clutching. His mouth and his hands and the boy