That One Day (That One #1.5) (23 page)

A few days later, Frankie and I have just finished watching a few horror movies. I’m in my room, talking to Jake and Allie on the phone. I told Frankie about them, so she doesn’t worry I’m hiding anything, and she was genuinely happy I’ve had someone to keep me company during my time in Tucson. She even went as far as suggesting they come for a visit.

So now I’m leaning back against the headboard of my bed while recounting the events of the past days, including today’s fun in the snow.

“It was the first time Archer was out in the snow. He was fucking adorable, giggling so hard it made him sound like a little pig with all the snorting that was going on.”

“Did you hear that, Jake? Isn’t that cute?” Allie teases Jake, or at least for his sake, I hope it’s only teasing because he sounds less than enthusiastic when he grumbles, “We don’t have snow in Tucson.”

Ignoring them, I go on. “He was crawling around and bouncing up and down in the snow. And once Frankie had tackled me to the ground, he started shoveling snow on me and then later onto us both.”

“Oooh, so you went horizontal in the snow. Nice, man.” Jake laughs.

“Dipshit,” Allie and I say in unison.

“I’m so happy you and Frankie worked stuff out, Ben.” There is genuine happiness in Allie’s voice. But then again, when isn’t that girl happy.

“Me, too. I should have told her from the start, though. We could have skipped the whole dramatic fight and heart-to-heart at a cemetery.”

“Things happen the way they are meant to. No need to fret about it.”

“Aren’t you wise, Al.” I laugh.

Jake interrupts Allie when she’s about to say something.

“The more important question is: Have you scored yet?”

I roll my eyes. “We are taking it slow. As hard as it may be.”

“Oh, I bet it’s hard.” Jake lets out a dirty snort.

“Asshole. Well, it is, but that’s not what I meant.” I chuckle. “We both want it, but we’re also aware we can’t rush into things. Frankie needs to be able to trust me and know I want more than to just get into her pants.”

“Don’t listen to him, Ben. Jake is a caveman.”

“Yeah, and you love to play with my club.”

“Okay guys, I really don’t want to listen to your foreplay.”

“Sorry,” they both grumble, making me laugh. But I hear Jake murmuring something to Allie that makes her break out into bashful giggles.

“I’ll leave you two to it while I go check on my girl.” Yeah, I’m fucking enjoying calling her my girl. “She’s probably scared shitless after the horror flicks.”

We say our goodbyes and I make my way to Frankie’s room, my quilt and pillow in tow. She’s always been a chickenshit when it came to horror movies. I’ll never forget the summer Dave and I had a
Halloween
marathon. Frankie tagged along, knowing full well we’d never let a chance to scare her pass us by. And we definitely did scare the hell out of her.

I was crashing over at Dave’s place after we finished the marathon. We had a bet going how long it was going to take Frankie to admit defeat and sneak down to the basement where we were sleeping on the couches. She had just turned sixteen a couple weeks ago, but when it came to horror movies, she was like a five-year-old—scared of her own shadow.

Instead of sleeping, we were eating pizza when we heard her come down the stairs. I looked at my watch. “Twenty-three minutes. I win,” I said to Dave, which earned me a groan.

“Not even my own sister has my back.”

She entered the room, and I tried hard not to look her way. It wasn't exactly difficult coming up with dirty fantasies featuring Frankie, so seeing her in only shorts and a tank was not a visual I needed with her brother in the room. Just as well I had a blanket already thrown across my lap.

“Hey guys. I figured I come back down and hang out with you. I can’t sleep. I guess I ate too much,” she said with a sheepish smile on her face. She’d never admit to being scared. No, not Frankie. This made it so much more fun to mess with her.

Dave started laughing. “Uh huh. I’m sure that’s the reason.”

“Sure it is, jerkwad,” she retorted, plopping down in the armchair, reclining it back.

“You weren’t scared Michael Myers was going to come for you, were you?” I teased.

“I have to put up with the two of you. Michael Myers seems like a walk in the park in comparison.” She glared at me, crossing her arms across her chest—pushing her rack up and making me even harder than I already was. I was going to hell for lusting after my best friend’s sister. Dave would kick my ass, her mother would sit down and die of disappointment, and her father would nail my balls to the wall. Not to mention what she would do to me if I ever made a move.

Not fifteen minutes had passed when Frankie stood up, excusing herself for a moment to make her way upstairs to the bathroom, which allowed Dave and me to set our plan in motion.

We've always been a good team when it came to messing with Frankie. While Dave followed her upstairs, silent like a damn cat, I opened the small window in the basement, turning off the lights and hiding under the staircase.

As soon as Dave heard her washing her hands, he flipped the light off upstairs—which was also my signal to flip the fuses, so she wouldn't be able to turn the lights back on.

Though I couldn't see what was going on upstairs, I could hear it really well.

“Shit, guys, it’s not funny, turn the lights back on, you assholes.”

There was some stumbling around and I could hear her flicking the switch up and down.

“Guys, I swear, as soon as I get down there without breaking my neck, I’ll break yours.” Her words might have been feisty, but the bravado in her voice was weak.

A few seconds later, I could hear her try another light switch, followed by a lot of swearing.

I tried hard not to laugh.

She was at the top of the stairs now, a low dragging sound audible when she patted her way downstairs, still swearing, though not with as much confidence as before.

Her feet hit the basement floor with a little thud.

“I swear, I’m gonna...” Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a loud “Ouch,” followed by the noise of her rubbing whichever body part bumped against the treadmill her dad had collecting dust.

Considering how much of a klutz she was, Dave and I should’ve been happy she hadn’t fallen down the stairs and broken her neck.

“Guys, it’s not fucking funny,” she said timidly.

When she shuffled closer, careful not to trip over anything else, I started to imitate Michael Myers’ slow and raspy breathing—the thing that freaked her out most about the movies.

“Ben, Dave, I know it’s you idiots.” Her words were spoken in a high-pitched tone, making it even harder for me not to laugh. But I managed and just continued breathing, moving out from under the staircase, confusing her momentarily where the sounds were coming from.

“Come on, you guys,” she pleaded, slowly freaking out, not realizing I had snuck up behind her.

I was now inches away from her, breathing in her ear.

She shrieked, whirling around trying to hit me, the whooshing sound easily distinguishable, but I had already moved back a few steps. Instead of pursuing me, she stumbled toward the staircase, and ducking under she flipped the fuses on. The light from the stairs illuminated the room, allowing me to watch her from where I was leaning against the couch, doubled over with laughter.

She stormed toward me. “You motherfucker.” I moved out of the way, holding up my hands in mock surrender, still laughing.

Her eyes were wide, her face was flushed from the scare and her voice shook when she started yelling and gave me a push. “You fucking asshole. I nearly had a heart attack.” Another push and another step back—not because she had the strength to move me, but it was fun to play along and watch her get all riled up.

“This shit ain’t funny, you douchebag.”

I was glad her parents weren't home with all the yelling going on.

I grabbed her wrist, holding her still. Her pulse was racing.

“Oh, come on. Admit it was funny.” I smirked at her.

“No, it fucking wasn’t,” she spat out, but I noticed how hard she had to fight to keep the corners of her mouth from lifting up into a grin.

“Where is the other asshole hiding?”

I took on a serious face. “He should’ve been upstairs to scare you.”

“Well, he wasn’t. Where is he?”

“Seriously, I don’t know. He went upstairs,” I reaffirmed. “Maybe Michael Myers got him.” I started to smile when she struggled against my hold on her in order to punch me.

Behind her, I saw Dave slither in through the basement window like he had no spine. He barely made a sound or at least not enough to be heard over Frankie’s yelling. “You can let go of my wrists now so I can punch you in the fucking face and wipe that stupid grin off it.”

I felt my smile get wider, holding a bit tighter and yes, enjoying it too. But mostly, I wanted to keep her from knocking our lights out in a few moments.

Dave placed a hand on her shoulder, while whispering, “Time to die.”

Her shriek nearly pierced my eardrums and she jolted so hard, she would have lost her balance if not for me holding onto her.

Dave started laughing, “Damn, this worked better than I thought.”

I laughed along with him and Frankie used the distraction against me, yanking her hands from my grip. Next thing I knew was pain radiating from my shin that she had kicked hard with the ball of her foot. She turned around and slugged Dave in the stomach, causing him to grunt.

“Glad you enjoyed it because it’ll be your last memory, you fuck-nut.”

Between the scare and the anger, she was out of breath, her words coming out between pants. Even through the pain in my shin and the amusement, my brain registered it and I wondered if this is how she would sound panting for a whole other reason. Dammit, she was sixteen. And my best friend’s little sister.

Doubled over, Dave was still laughing.

“You should have seen your face. If you hadn’t just been upstairs to pee, we’d all be standing in a puddle now.”

I cracked up at Dave’s stupid joke and held up my hand to Dave for a fist bump. That just fueled Frankie’s fire. She stepped up to Dave, getting a hold of his nipples through his shirt, and twisting them hard, making him hiss in pain. I did the sane thing and quickly covered mine before she could come for them because that shit hurts like hell.

“You two assholes are a nightmare. I hate you.”

Dave pulled her close, ignoring the struggle she put up. Holding her in a headlock, he ruffled her hair. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ do.” She stomped on his toes and when he let go, she walked over to the armchair, snatching away my blanket and Dave’s pillow, sitting down and curling up. Her mouth was scrunched up in a pout. She was staring to the side, ignoring us.

“Come on, Stinker. You can’t be mad at us. We’re too awesome,” Dave teased her.

Her hand slid out from underneath the blanket, flipping us the bird.

“Don’t be a drag. You know we love you. Don’t we, Ben?” He looked to me, winking and I tried hard to not look like a deer in the headlights. But no, he couldn’t know I was into his sister. No way.

Thankfully, Frankie didn't let me answer.

“Well, I don’t love you guys. You’re a pain in the ass.”

Dave raised his eyebrows at her. “I really hope you don’t know how anything up the ass feels like.”

She looked at him wide-eyed, mouth agape for a moment before she started laughing and threw the pillow at his head.

After we calmed down and stopped laughing, Dave spoke up again while I tried hard to concentrate on anything but her thin tank top.

“By the way, Ben and I are going to a show next weekend. A few local bands are playing at the park in town. Wanna come?”

I looked at her, attempting to appear like I didn’t care. I wasn't sure what I wanted—her to come with us so I could lust after her, or her not to come with us so I didn’t constantly imagine her naked.

“Sorry guys, I already made plans to go with someone else.”

Both Dave and I sat up straighter.

“Who are you going with?” We asked in unison. Suddenly, heat snaked through my body and it wasn't the good kind. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was jealousy.

“None of your business.”

I glared at her while Dave went over, resting his hands on either side of her.

“Don’t make me tickle you.”

With an exasperated sigh she replied, “I’m going with Drake.”

“Drake, the biker?” I asked, the heat inside of me at boiling level. Stupid fucker with his stupid fucking tattoos and his damn bike.

“Yes, that Drake.” She sighed in exasperation, looking past Dave’s arm at me. “How do you guys know him?”

“The question is how do you know him?” Dave asked, still right in front of her.

“Could you maybe chill the hell out? Both of you.” She shook her head like our behavior was the weirdest thing ever, though it wasn't. We might have loved to mess with her, tease her, annoy her, but when it came to her going on dates, Dave and I both got protective—although I would suppose it was for very different reasons.