Then she smiled.
Not the polite kind. Not the oh-you’re-here smile she gave to classmates, old teachers, and strangers at Target. It was small. Quiet. Personal.
My heart stuttered like it forgot its damn job.
She started walking toward us, slow steps, Frenchy beside her, his handstillon her back.
“I’m going to die,” I muttered under my breath.
“No,” Bubba said, having somehow replaced Rachel while I gawked at Frankie. “But you might wish you had.”
When she finally reached us, standing there in that barely-there bikini and smile that felt like a secret—I still couldn’t find a single, non-drooling coherent thought.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
FRANKIE
He told me I looked beautiful.
Twice, actually. The first time, it sounded like reverence. The second, it sounded like a warning.
But no matter how many times Mathieu said it, I still felt like I’d stepped out in lingerie and labeled myselfTarget Practice.
The bikini seemed like a good idea when I bought it. Bold. Red. Confident. Like maybe if I wore something that said “I’m fine” loud enough, I’d start believing it. But now, walking into Archie’s pool area with a silk sarong barely hanging on and my stomach exposed to the entire senior class, I felt... hunted.
“Don’t trip,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that,mon cœur?” Mathieu asked, voice light, fingers steady against the small of my back.
“Nothing.”Everything. Kill me.
I could feel the eyes. Girls assessing. Guys staring. Friends frozen. Maybe worse.
But it wasn’t just the crowd—it was them. Jake, Coop, Bubba, and Archie.
The boys I’d grown up with. The boys I used to share snacks and secrets and summer storms with. The boys who came alonglater with games, challenges, and fun. The boys who damn near broke my heart.
I wasn’t sure they hadn’t actually broken it. As much as it hurt with each beat, they’d definitely done damage. Or maybe I had. I really didn’t know who to blame for it.
Jake looked like he might actually combust. Coop’s mouth was slightly open, like he’d forgotten how to shut it. Bubba… looked resigned. Like someone had handed him a bomb and told him to hold it, again. And Archie? Archie looked amused. Which was its own kind of terrifying.
It was the slowest walk of my life. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, thudding against the bass line of the party music like a countdown.
They’d shifted to one central location, sitting in a loose circle like kings on a damn patio throne. All I had to do was walk right into the court.
Fantastic.
No pressure.
Mathieu leaned closer. “You’re doing great, by the way.”
I shot him a look. “Easy for you to say. No one here wants to murder you with their eyeballs.”
He grinned. “Disagree. Your Mr. Jake looks seconds from violence.”
“Stop calling himmyanything.”
