Page 4 of Tempting Frankie
“I absolutely have not,” Kat scoffs, wiggling her eyebrows. “Did he offer you a drink? Maybe a…cream-filled pastry?”
“Oh my god, shut up!” I groan, but I can't help the snort of laughter that escapes. “It wasn't like that. We just talked. For like, five minutes. Tops.”
But even as I say it, my mind races back to the way Alexander's green eyes had locked onto mine, how his deep voice had sent shivers down my spine. Okay fuck, I am so not going there.
Kat, always wanting the juicy details, leans in closer. “He's gotta be what, late forties? Early fifties? Prime silver fox territory. Bet he's got stamina for days. He just looks like he fucccccccks.”
“I hate you,” I groan, but the image of Alexander flashes through my mind. “It was just normal, polite bullshit.”
“Uh-huh,” Kat drawls, clearly not buying it. “And that's why you came in here looking like you'd seen a ghost or fucked with no orgasm.”
I throw another pillow at her face. “You're impossible, you know that?”
Kat catches the pillow, laughing, but her eyes narrow. She's like a fucking shark that's caught the scent of blood. “Okay, but seriously, Frankie. What's really going on? I haven't seen you this worked up since...” She trails off, and I feel my stomach clench.
“Since Cameron,” I finish, my voice tight. The sarcasm drains out of me like someone pulled a plug. I fidget with my rings, twisting them around my fingers again. “It's just seeing his dad brought it all back, you know?”
Kat's playful expression fades. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath, hating how shaky it sounds. “Cameron's words. The shit he said about my body. How I wasn't...” I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “How I wasn't 'fit' enough for him. Too fat. Not the trophy girlfriend he wanted.”
“He’s such a fucking asshole,” Kat hisses, her hazel eyes flashing with anger, and I remind her about how much of an ass my ex was to me. “I swear to God, if I ever see him again?—”
“It's fine,” I cut her off, but we both know it's not. “It just...it all floods back. And I hate that it still affects me, you know? Like, who gives a shit what that trust fund dickwad thinks?”
Kat scoots closer, her voice softening. “Hey, listen to me. Cameron's words were grade-A bullshit, okay? That douchebagwouldn't know real beauty if it sat on his face and left a snail trail.”
I can't help but snort at that, even as I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.
“I'm serious,” Kat continues, grabbing my hand. “You're fucking gorgeous, Frankie. Inside and out. And any guy or girl, or whoever, would be lucky to have you. Curves and all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, but I squeeze her hand back. “When did you get so sappy?”
“Must be all those romcoms you force me to watch,” Kat grins, but I can see the fierce protectiveness in her eyes. “Now, let's talk about how we're gonna get revenge on Cameron. I'm thinking we set him up with a plenty of catfish profile, maybe arrange a few top-tier interesting matches to run into him?”
I laugh, grateful for the distraction. “You're diabolical. I love it.”
“I’m serious, Francesca. Fuck Cameron and his pencil thin dick. He wasn’t hitting any walls, and he couldn’t even eat ice cream without blowing up the bathroom. He was an ice cream hater.”
I roll my eyes, trying to brush off Kat's comments with my usual sarcasm. “It was for the best, because every guy's dream is a girl who stress-eats an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's in one sitting.”
“Fuck yeah it is,” Kat fires back, not missing a beat. “Shows you're committed.”
I can't help but snort at that, even as I fidget and pluck the threads coming out of the seams of the cushion. “You are so ridiculous.”
“And you're deflecting,” she says, her tone suddenly serious. “Look, I know Cameron fucked with your head. But maybe fucking his dad would be a good thing for you. A final fuck you, you know?”
The mention of the relationship sends a jolt through me. I jump up from the couch, pacing our cramped living room. “Are you kidding me? I don't need some rich asshole to fuck me and put me back together, Kat. I'm not some damsel in distress.”
“That's not what I meant, and you know it,” my sister argues, her eyes following me as I move. “I'm just saying, maybe it's time to do something you want to do and double points if you can get Cam’s daddy to eat your ass before he sees his son next. But what do I know? I’m just a girl looking out for her sister’s crotch before it becomes covered in cobwebs.”
I scoff, but there's a flicker of…something in my chest. Fuck if I know what it is. “Yeah, because fucking my ex's dad is totally the healthy choice here.”
I'm trying to glare at Kat, but my traitor face won't cooperate. My lips keep twitching upward no matter how hard I fight it.
“Oh, come on, Frankie,” Kat says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You can't tell me Mr. Silver Fox wasn't giving you the once-over. I bet he was imagining peeling off that catering uniform real slow.”
“Literally no one was picturing that!” I grab a banana off the counter and chuck it at her head. She ducks, cackling. “That's Cameron's dad you're talking about. It's weird enough without you making it sound like some porno setup.”
