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Sasha glared at her a moment longer before crossing toward my end of the couch. “Don’t wait up.” From the way the muscles in his neck tightened, I gathered he wanted to say more — do more — but he wouldn’t, even if it was only Frankie.
“I never do,” I replied, staring at the arm of the couch instead of him. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so fucking petulant with him, not right before he was literally walking out the door with another guy who looked like he was DTF at a moment’s notice. I should have been happier, smilier, something to give him a reason towantto come home, not stay out until the next morning and come back when he knew I’d finally be gone.Shouldhave— but couldn’t. Because apparently Iwastrying to fuck up everything in my life, including this relationship.
Sasha clenched his fist so hard his knuckles cracked. Without another word, he spun on the ball of his foot and marched out the door. It wasn’t quite a slam, but it wasn’t gentle, either.
“Wow,” Frankie said, in a completely dry tone.
I hid my wince behind a growl, hoping she didn’t see it. “Don’t fucking start.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You’re going to.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“I said don’t start!”
“I can’t even ask about his friends?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Those are his by the way,” I said, looking pointedly at the bag of chips in her lap before trying to focus on the TV again.
She groaned and tossed the bag on the coffee table, dusting her hands off.
I was saved from further conversation by the inexperienced baker on the show. The three judges looked up from little piles of brown goo on their plates while the woman looked like she was two seconds away from bursting into tears. “I told you it was going to be raw.”
Out of nowhere a pillow smacked against my lap, followed by Frankie’s head. “Wanna take bets if that sugar sculpture is going to make it to the judging table?”
“I’m guessing it’s going down rightafterthey move it.”
“I’ll give them until rightbeforethe judging table.”
She snuggled into my lap, yelling at the contestants on the TV as their cake wobbled precariously on the plywood.
I only partially paid attention to the TV, or Frankie. Even if he just left, my mind was too preoccupied with Sasha, wondering what he was doing and with whom. Then again, maybe I didn’t want to know the real answer. On top of everything else that had gone wrong in my life, losing Sasha was something I honestly didn’t know if I could bounce back from. I tried to tell myself things happened for a reason — from the kidnapping to that fucking alley. But what was the point of it all if he wound up breaking my heart in the end?
10
ROAN
Thankfully Frankie calledit quits after we reached the grand finale of the baking show. Since she was only in town for the weekend, she lamented about not having time to see me again. I had very important plans with the couch I really didn’t want to cancel, so it was fine by me.
“Remember,” she said in the doorway. “Iamcrazy enough to fly out here if you don’t answer me again.”
“Duly noted.”
“Are you going to be ok?”
“Fine. Why?”
The corner of her mouth quirked downward, but it was her eyes that bothered me the most. They reflected a special sort of sadness normally reserved for injured animals and homeless veterans. Actually, the more I thought about it, it was the way Sasha looked at me and I fucking hated it.
“You don’t want to miss your Uber,” I said, forcing a little more pep to my voice.
She stretched up on her toes and hugged me around my neck. “You can always come to New York if you want to.”
