Ryder flicks off Ax. “The beard isn’t going anywhere, no matter how much you hate it.”
“You were beardless the first twenty years of your life,” Ax says. “I just don’t see why people have to change things like that. It bothers me.”
Ryder snorts a laugh. “I’m so sorry to upset your routine by growing facial hair, but I like it.”
“Guys.” I clear my throat.
Ax starts arguing with Ryder. Viggo and Oliver are playing tug-of-war with the bag of beef jerky. No one is listening to me.
“Guys!”
Everyone freezes in a tableau titled Guilty.
Ryder and Ax both straighten in their seats on screen. Oliver lets Viggo have the beef jerky. Viggo rips open the bag and throws a hunk into Oliver’s lap. They both tug the meat between their teeth, the simultaneous snap as it breaks the only other sound besides crashing waves along the shore.
“Thank you for joining the emergency meeting.” Clearing my throat again, I glance inside, making sure Frankie hasn’t come home early. She’s supposedly at water aerobics and said she’d be home late, muttering something about getting out of my hair. It was on the tip of my tongue, to tell her just how off the mark that is.
“Okay, so as everyone here knows, I’m a bit of a klutz when it comes to the ladies.” A chorus of snorts and suppressed laughter interrupts me but quickly dies away. They all school their faces.
“Proceed,” Axel says seriously.
“Right. Well, you guys remember Frankie, who I’ve mentioned. She’s our social media coordinator.”
Ryder wiggles his eyebrows. “Willa was riiiight,” he singsongs. I give him a look. He only grins wider.
“I’m attracted to her,” I tell them. “I’d love to ask her out. I’ve wanted to since I met her, but Frankie and I can’t date right now, not while we work together.”
Ax gives the universal sign for speed it up.
“She’s quitting once we’re out of playoffs or after we win the Cup,” I press on. “She got into law school, and soon we won’t be coworkers. Which means, now’s my shot to ask her out. And I…I have no clue how to go about this. What do I say? And when? ‘Hey, Frankie. I’ve been pining for you for three years, secretly wishing I could date you, and now I can’? I sound creepy. Stalkerish.” I scrub my face. “Why is this so complicated?”
Ryder and Axel steeple their fingers in front of their mouths at the exact same time. Oliver crunches a chip thoughtfully while Viggo swallows his jerky, then finally says, “Do you know if she’s into you?”
“Well, I didn’t think so. But something she said the other night made me think maybe? At least maybe she’d be open to it?”
I tell them about our conversation over takeout at her place, and when I finish, they’re all staring at me with these wide grins.
“What?” I ask.
Ryder slaps his hands together and rubs them in excitement. “Okay, we’ve got lots to work with here.”
Oliver and Viggo start talking over each other, clamoring to share their two cents.
Axel holds up a hand, silencing everyone. “Before we form a plan of attack, I have to ask. Have you told us everything we need to know?”
“Well, I guess there’s one part I forgot to mention. She’s living with me temporarily.”
Ryder’s jaw drops. Axel’s eyes widen. Viggo and Oliver blink at me in shock. And then all four of them explode with advice, frantically yelling over each other. I open up my phone’s notepad. Make them take turns. Break up six different fights when they disagree on tactic.
As Ax predicted, it’s anything but brief, and by the time I’m jotting down Axel’s tenth point, while cross-referencing it to Ryder’s somewhat conflicting advice, the noise of a car pulling in front of my house makes all of us freeze.
“Dewberries!” I hiss.
Oliver snorts. “Did you just say—”
“That’s her!”
I slap the computer shut on Ryder and Axel. Oliver and Viggo stand, clumsily bumping fronts as they try to escape their chairs. They stumble over each other, down the stairs to the sand and around the side of the house just as Frankie walks into the kitchen. Her eyes travel to the deck, taking in the giant pile of food my brothers left on the table. She raises an eyebrow, but before I can so much as wave hello, she’s gone, out of sight.
I stare after her, like a dumbstruck idiot, hearing all my brothers’ thoughts ricocheting in my head, their voices warring with each other about what I should do next. Anxiety and nerves tighten my stomach. What do I do? Which move is the right one to make?
Frankie tugs open the sliding door, and Pazza bounds out, sprinting toward the shore. She smiles up at me, starlight dancing over her skin.
My brothers’ voices die away. The ocean breeze wraps around us. And the answer is crystal clear. “How about a moonlit stroll, Francesca?”
Her smile deepens as she slips her arm through mine, without saying a word. But it’s all the answer I need.
12
Ren
Playlist: “Hallelujah,” Jake Shimabukuro
“I saw a Subaru out front.” Frankie jerks her head toward the house but keeps her eyes on Pazza dashing across the sand. “Neighbor’s car?”
I throw the ball for Pazza, then turn to look at Frankie.
So beautiful. No makeup, her hair slicked back in a bun from the pool, those soft lips she tugs between her teeth, dark lashes blinking slowly.
She leans in and drops her voice. “Maybe it’s the mystery lady’s car. She finally got wise and paid a visit.”
I can tell she’s mostly joking. She wouldn’t be down on the sand with me if she truly thought someone else was waiting for me in my home. But it’s so hard to know what to say when Frankie brings herself up without knowing it’s Frankie I’m always thinking and talking about.
The wind snaps between us and tugs a dark ribbon of hair across her face. Carefully, I slide my finger along her cheekbone and tuck that loose espresso strand tight behind her ear. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. She leans, almost imperceptibly, into my touch. I let my fingers trace the shell of her ear, whisper lighter than a breeze down her neck, before I drop my hand.
“It was my brothers,” I manage hoarsely.
She frowns. “Your brothers? Where are they?”
“They left. Right when you got here. Trust me, you’re not ready to meet them. Not the man-cubs. You saw the carnage they left on the table.”
Her soft laugh and smile hit me, a double wave I wasn’t braced for. I can count on one hand the times I’ve made Frankie laugh. It feels like a gift.
“Did you tell your family about UCLA?” I sweep up Pazza’s ball, fake her out, then send it flying in the air.
“I did. I called them before water aerobics and told them. They were excited for me.” Frankie clears her throat. “Oh, and I had a voicemail from my landlord. He said they’re still fixing the damage done to the kitchen and my room, but after that it’ll be ready. I should be able to get in by next week, after our games in Minnesota.”