18
Frankie
“How much do I put in?” Evan asks my mom as they stand in front of the kitchen counter. When we finished at the park, we ran to Metropolis to change and then came home for dinner. We spent a little time hanging out in the backyard before Mom decided it was time to cook dinner. She wanted to be the one to do it this year since we have a guest, and Evan jumped in to help her.
“About a cup. I don’t typically measure anything out, but you’ll learn to eye it. Just pour it in, and I’ll tell you when to stop.”
“Are you sure I won’t mess it up?” he asks, making me frown. I hate that he questions himself so much. That he’s so worried about doing the wrong thing because people have taught him to fear that.
“I’m sure,” she replies. “But if you did, who cares? It’s not a big deal, mijo.”
Evan grins at her with the use of the nickname. It’s so strange seeing someone in the kitchen with my mom. I’ve never had a man home that I’m interested in before, and I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge there’s obvious interest. It’s new and surprising but then doesn’t feel new or surprising at the same time.
“She’s loving this,” my dad leans closer to me and whispers.
I know she is. My mom’s not dumb, and she knows the fact that Evan is here means something. If somehow she didn’t, I could tell by the way she watched us together today that she’s already come to her own assumptions. “He is too.” And he deserves this, people who treat him the way family is supposed to be treated.
A warmth spreads through my chest as I watch Evan cook with my mom. She teases him often and he laughs. Every once in a while, he’ll look my way with those big hazel eyes of his that are so fucking sexy but also sweet and innocent too. It makes me wonder if there was ever a time his own mother did things with him like this. Whether she did or didn’t, I’m glad he has it now, and guilt burns beneath my skin that I waited so long to bring Evan here. He deserved to have this sooner.
Once dinner is finished, the four of us sit around the table and my mom says, “Today was a good day because I’m here, I’m healthy, and I was lucky enough to get to meet Evan.” She reaches over and squeezes his hand.
With his other hand he reaches under the table, his hand tightening on my thigh. I place my palm over it, support him, let him know I’m here because I know how much what Mom just said means to him. And I also know there’s a part of him that wonders if he deserves it.
“It’s something we learned in therapy,” I tell him. “We don’t do it every day, but on this anniversary, we always share why it was a good day.”
He nods, his hand trembling against me.
“I’ll do next,” my dad adds, and I know he can tell Evan needs more time. “Today was a good day because my beautiful wife and Evan made this delicious meal together.”
Mom leans over and kisses his cheek.
“Aw, shucks, Dad. Thanks,” I tease. “Today was a good day because Dad didn’t try to cook because Mom wanted to impress Evan.”
“Hey! I’m not that bad!” Dad says as Mom laughs.
“I’m kidding. Today was a good day because I got to spend it with my three favorite people.”
Evan’s hand tenses briefly before he turns it over and threads his fingers through mine. “Today was a good day because you all made me feel so welcome and like…like I have a family.” Evan’s eyes dart down as though he’s embarrassed.
“Hey.” I use my free hand to hook my finger under his chin and turn his head to face me. I sweep his blond hair off his forehead. “What do you mean feel like? My feelings are hurt if you didn’t think of me as family before today.”
“You know I do,” he replies, his eyes examining me in a foreign way. I can’t read his expression, and I’m used to always seeing how Evan feels.
“Ugh. I’m crying. You aren’t supposed to make me cry.” Mom breaks the moment when she leans over and hugs Evan. “You’re always welcome here. In fact, I might be disappointed if Frankie ever comes without you again.”
“Gee thanks, Ma,” I tease.
The mood lightens after that. We all eat dinner together before playing a game of Pictionary because that’s just how my family rolls.
When it’s time to go, Evan excuses himself to use the restroom, and Mom pulls me aside. “Oh, Frankie. I like him so much. He’s such a sweet boy.”
“Thanks, Ma. I like him too.”
She smiles and pats my cheek. “I know you do, maybe even more than you realize, but I won’t push you on that right now. Today was…perfect. You typically struggle a lot more with the anniversary.”
I shrug because there’s nothing to say, really. She’s right. It’s a hard day for me. But today wasn’t. “I feel good around him. He makes me feel like I’m something, and I’m not ready to dissect what that means, but I know it’s there, Ma.” Because what Evan and I have…I’ve never had with anyone else, and what if changing the dynamics of it fucks us up? I couldn’t handle losing my best friend.
“You make me so proud,” she says right as Evan comes out. Mom and Dad walk us to the car where they hug me, then Evan, telling us they’ll see us soon.
We’re both quiet as I turn down surface streets to get us to the freeway. It’s not until I’ve merged that Evan says, “I don’t know how to thank you for today.”
“Then don’t. You don’t have to thank me, Ev.”
“I know, and that’s what makes me want to do it even more. No one has ever treated me the way you do. No one has ever cared that much.”
My heart squeezes uncomfortably. I fucking hate that he’s been through so much. That people didn’t see him for who he is, that people like Peter took advantage of him and his parents didn’t love him the way they should have. “It’s their fucking loss. Not yours, okay? You’re better than all the rest of them.”
“Well, it must be true if you say it,” he replies, and I can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, so I let him.
“Obviously. I’m fucking Frankie.”
“Fucking Frankie, huh? It sounds like a porno.”
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. “What would your porno be? Edging Evan?”
“Basically!”
“Except for the other night.”
If it were light, I have no doubt I’d see a blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, except for then.”
We’re quiet again, and I wonder if I fucked things up by mentioning the blowjobs. I don’t think so. There’s been no weirdness between us at all, but it’s also been a pretty emotional day.
Once we’re into our unit at Metropolis, Evan stretches and says, “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to shower and head to bed.”
I nod, feeling like there’s something I should say but not sure what it is. I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve felt unsure of what to say to a guy before. The last person I should feel that way with is Evan.
“Yeah, me too.”
We both pause, but then Evan starts heading for his room. He gets to the door before I say, “Hey, Ev?”
“Yeah?”
“When the sperm donor first went to prison, I struggled a lot. I was sad and lonely and confused. My mom got me this puppy—a golden retriever. God, I fucking loved that dog. I only had her for about three years before she got sick and we lost her. She was so damn sweet. She loved to cuddle and play. Maggie was my best friend and got me through some really hard times. She really was the most loyal dog you could have…she reminds me of you. I think a golden retriever would be perfect.”
He pauses, watches me, takes me in. It’s a moment later that I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to answer. “I…thanks, Frankie. I like that. A golden retriever sounds perfect.”
I nod and then go to my room. Even though I rarely do, I close the door behind me. My heart is beating a little too fast and, fuck, I want to march across the condo, go to his room, and take him. My fingers tingle with the need to feel him, touch him, but what if it ruins our friendship?
It won’t…this is Evan. Nothing could come between us.
Is it worth the risk though? And hell, how do I know he even wants me? Sure, we blew each other a few days ago, but that doesn’t mean he wants a repeat performance.
I groan at how fucking ridiculous I’m being. There hasn’t been a time in my life where I put this much worry into whether to try and fuck someone, but this is Evan, not just anyone.
Before I drive myself crazy, I climb into the shower. I wash my hair, my body, then stand under the spray until the water turns cold and my fingers start to prune.
I want him. Christ, I fucking want him. The need surges to the surface, boiling hotter, faster with each moment that passes by.
It’s Evan, we’ll be fine. Talk to him.
What if I hurt him?
I shake those thoughts from my head, turn off the shower, and get out.
My dick is throbbing, fucking aching, making me wish I would have jacked off while in the shower. But it’s not my hand I want. It’s Evan.
Does he want me too? Was it just a heat-of-the-moment thing before? Because of the puppy play? All these damn thoughts and insecurities wreak havoc on my brain as I dry off, then wrap the towel around my waist.
What if I hurt him? I can’t help but think again.
I step out of the bathroom and into my room. Evan’s eyes snap up, lock with mine from where he sits on the edge of my bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer trunks, hair wet from his shower, leg bouncing up and down.
“Frankie, I…”
I take a step closer, then another and another, not stopping until I’m right in front of him.
Reaching out, I cup his cheek, brushing his perfect cheekbone with my thumb. “I want you,” I tell him, and he lets out a deep, shaky breath as if he’d been hoping I’d say that.
“I want you too.”