Page 43 of Unwanted

I needed to feel grounded.

I needed something to remind me that everything I was feeling around him wasn’t permanent. His presence was fleeting and it didn’t matter if I was certain that no other person would ever fill the Frankie-shaped hole in my heart. There was no room for the fun flirting we’d engaged in since he admitted to being jealous about Rhys.

There was no time to entertain the way my body had begun to light up when I was around him.

It was like being awoken from the longest sleep. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve ending responded to his proximity.

I was aching in his presence.

I hadn’t wanted to be touched by someone or wanted to touch someone in years, but with Frankie here I felt like I was forever seconds away from chasing him and begging him to stay by my side. Seconds away from grabbing him and kissing him.

It didn’t help that every time my eyes sought him out, I found him already staring at me.

He wanted me just as much, and I needed to work out how to not be swayed by his needs and his desires, as well as my own.

“Hey, you.” A hand lands on my bouncing knee, and I look up to see Jenika smiling down at me. “I haven’t seen you here in a while.”

Jenika’s braids are pulled into a bun on top of her head. Her white maxi dress standing out in contrast to her dark skin.

Straightening up, I move my legs out of the walkway so she can maneuver around me and take a seat.

“How’s everything going?” she asks. “I thought I would hear from you after the other day.”

Seated, her eyes dart over me, doing her usual visual check to see if all looks well. When I first met her, I took it personally.

I would tell her I was clean, but she looked me over from head to toe anyway, like my word meant nothing. When I confronted her, she asked me how many times someone had asked me to stop using, and how many times I had told them I would, or that I had, only to relapse.

I couldn’t count how many times Frankie asked me to stop.

He was the only one who gave a shit, and he was also the only one who knew my word meant nothing.

So, maybe Jenika had a point.

From then on I chose to never flinch when she did her customary once-over. I challenged myself and made it my mission to be a man of my word.

Today, my word was the only thing I had.

“I’m at a meeting,” I reply.

“That bad, huh?”

“Just trying not to make any rash decisions.”

“You thinking of using?” she asks bluntly.

“More like thinking of jumping in bed with my ex.”

“Ha,” she scoffs. “Frankie?”

“The one and only.”

“I’d love to meet him.”

“Why?” I turn my body, leaning closer to her. “So you can play twenty questions and tell me we’re not good for each other?”

“If you weren’t, it wouldn’t be me telling you. You would already know.”

Irritated, I nudge her in the shoulder. “Why must you always talk in riddles?”

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