Page 89 of Famous Last Words
By the time I’d finished in the bathroom, I walked back into the bedroom, relieved to find Fran snoring again, and I was off the hook… temporarily at least.
But do you think I could sleep after that? Of course not. All I kept thinking as I laid there, staring up at the ceiling while Fran murmured in her sleep and rolled into me, wrapping her warm, soft body around mine was, well, firstly, that my dick couldn’t possibly get any harder, but also, secondly, and most importantly, she was a hundred percent going to ask me again. And I had no reasonable answer to give her where I wouldn’t come off as a complete and utter psychopath. Fucking Andy.
“I love your mom, Robbie,” Fran muses.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She’s perched there in the passenger seat wearing a baby blue sweatsuit, socked feet resting on the dash as she sucks on a Twizzler in a way that’s so innocent yet does things to me no man wants to admit. My jaw ticks and I find myself clutching the steering wheel so tight, my fingers start to cramp.
“She’s so fun,” Fran continues. “Did you know she partied with the New Kids on the Block when she was younger? She didn’t exactly say, but I get the feeling she might’ve done more than justparty.”
I shake my head, laughing. “You realize I don’t actually wanna know that about my mom, right?”
“Could you imagine?” she giggles, ignoring me. “One of theNew Kidscould’ve been your dad.”
Silence ensues, and it’s suddenly awkward.
“Oh my God,” she mutters. “I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.”
I decide to lighten the mood. “Can we pretend it’s Donnie? At least then I’d have a kick-ass uncle.” I glance at her as she looks at me with a slightly rueful smile, and I reach over and gently squeeze her knee to let her know it’s all good.
“So,” Fran says after a moment. “How much longer?”
I scoff. “Keller. We’ve literally been driving for forty minutes.”
She groans. “Well, let’s play a game or something.”
“Oh God. Kill me now,” I murmur, only half-joking.
Playfully, she slaps my arm before reaching forward and fiddling with the radio. “How do I connect my phone?”
I laugh out loud. “This car’s a 1970 classic. All original.”
She stares at me. “So… no Bluetooth?”
With my eyes still on the road, I feel around in the center console, grabbing the aux cord for the FM transmitterand handing it to her. “Nope. Old school, baby.”
“What even is this?” Fran mutters under her breath before quickly figuring it out and plugging her phone in. “Okay. So, it’s called the radio game,” she continues, all excited, and I lowkey love when she’s like this. “You ask a life question, and the next song on shuffle determines your answer.”
“Alifequestion?” I snort.
“Yeah, like…” she pauses to think for a moment before continuing, “Radio gods, what will I be doing in ten years? Or something like that.” She smiles, and although this game sounds like the living definition of hell, I can’t find it in me to say no to this woman.
“Radio gods,” I snort again. “It’s literally Spotify.”
“Stop being a party pooper.” She gives my arm another chiding slap. “You go first.”
Again, I roll my eyes. “Fine.Radio gods, what will I be doing in ten years?”
She groans. “You are such a buzzkill.”
“Just…” I wave a hand at her phone.
“Okay, you ready?”
“Readier than I’veeverbeen before in my life,” I deadpan.
Seconds later, the silence in the car is suddenly inundated by Kelis singing about milkshakes or some shit, and all I can do I turn my head slowly, meeting Fran’s smiling eyes as she hides her mouth behind her phone, and I can’t help but laugh out loud because what the fuck is happening.
“Maybeyouneed to press the button?” she suggests after a moment, holding her phone out.
