I blinked rapidly, nursing my expression from amused back to unimpressed. I wanted so badly to hate the man in front of me, but I was uncharacteristically smitten and unavoidably fucked.
“And what you said about Natalia,” I whispered accusingly, pointing at Frankie and narrowing my eyes.
“How was I supposed to know that Casper the Friendly Ghost was your college girlfriend?”
“I’m walking away now.” I grabbed my drink off the bar top for the second time in as many minutes and made my way back in the direction of the dance floor.
“I’m an asshole, okay?” Frankie admitted, catching up to me in one long stride.
“You don’t say?”
“But not for the reasons you think.”
Weaving in and out of the crowd, I spotted Nat and Mateo grinding like they were the only two in the room and swung back around, coming face-to-face with Frankie. “Are you married?”
“What?” He recoiled. “No, I’m not fucking married. I told you I live with Mateo.”
“You could have a girlfriend.”
“I can hardly handle you.”
I snorted, pleased with that answer. “So I’m going to go find a guy who can.”
“Suspenders Santa doesn’t even know what a clit is.”
“Maybe I should introduce you then and you guys can swap notes.”
As if summoned, Lucas popped through the partygoers and appeared next to us, smiling with a drunken hood to his eyes. I didn’t oppose the way he laid his palm a bit too comfortably across my lower back when I glanced up and saw how amusingly easy it was to make Frankie squirm. His jaw was clenched so hard I could almost hear his teeth grinding over the music.
“Come dance with me?” Lucas asked.
“It’s rude to interrupt a conversation, man.”
Surprise sparked through me at the hint of possession in Frankie’s tone. He didn’t like anyone else playing with his toys. Good to know.
But I also wasn't his to claim as much as my traitorous body didn’t hate the idea. Too many drinks into a night out with two hot men playing tug o’ war over my snowball tassels was the beginning of a bad idea.
Lucas redirected his attention. “I think she was having more fun before you got here.”
“I think she can speak for herself.” Frankie took a step forward.
“You know what?” I chimed in. “This is a party, isn’t it? I actually would love to dance.”
Leaving my two half-clothed suitors to stare at one another in a pile of tinsel, I took off toward Nat and her also half-clothed boyfriend in the middle of the dance floor. I’d been in Florida less than eight hours and I was already two grown men deep in drama when all the drunk and frisky part of my brain could think about was two grown men deep in me.
Mateo had enough rhythm on his own to bop back and forth without looking like he was inconspicuously trying to work out a wedgie, so I didn’t feel so bad stealing his girlfriend away—or when he left the two of us alone twirling in the strobe lights.
“Are we burying bodies tonight or what, chick?” Nat shouted over the music as we swayed in tandem.
“I can’t decide if I’m destructive drunk or DTF drunk.”
“I know you.” She grinned. “You’re borderline fuck-my-ass drunk but Frankie is on your shit list.”
“He’s on my do-not-fuck-ever list.”
“Make him grovel, it's good for your skin.”
“He’s too much of a proud asshole to grovel.” I glanced back to where I’d left the boys to find Frankie and Mateo watching from the sidelines. Matty whispered something animatedly in his friend's ear, pointing at Nat and me, making Frankie smirk. “I want to wipe that smug look right off his face.”
“We could make out?” Nat suggested.
“We’re talking punishment, not reward.”
“The outfit you’re wearing alone owns real estate in every cognitive area of his brain.”
“Rent free.” I laughed, shooting a wink toward the man in question who stiffened at my attention, even as Mateo carried on their conversation.
Part of me wished the afternoon played out differently—so I could give in to the obvious temptation hanging like an ornament between Frankie and me. The other part was happy to play the game. If we were bound to cross paths at some point or another over the coming few weeks, I’d make sure the next time he saw me he was exhausted from sleepless wet dreams of my tits in this fucking corset.
“At least one of us is getting laid,” I said.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Nat swooned. “Why don’t we have the boys take us home for a nightcap? Frankie ordered a ride already.”
“Bad idea.” My words slurred. “I’m perfectly capable of getting myself back to your apartment.”
“You’re not going home alone. The sun will be up in a few hours anyway.”
“We both know you and Mateo aren’t making it until the sun comes up.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I’m trying my literal hardest not to blow his hot roommate and you’re putting me through a clinical trial with this.”
“Just…don’t look at his dick.”
“Who’s dick?” Mateo asked, pressing up behind Natalia with Frankie at his side.
“She’s not great at that,” Frankie said.
I turned to face him. “That’s bold coming from the guy who hasn’t stopped staring at my ass for two hours.”
“Funny you would notice.”
“All right, play nice, kids.” Matty smirked. “Santa’s watching.”
Frankie peeled his eyes away from mine to look down at the moving map on his phone. “Uber’s here.”
“Andiamo.” Mateo patted his girlfriend on her ass to coax her toward the door.
“No fucking funny business,” I warned Frankie with a pointed finger as Nat and I strutted ahead out of the venue.
It only took the world’s most uncomfortable cab ride through Coconut Creek with the four of us smushed into the back seat of a Ford Focus to realize I couldn’t have cared less where I ended up asleep, as long as I was out of my clothes and lying in a horizontal position.
The quaint residential neighborhood Frankie and Mateo lived in was a smattering of similar-style stucco houses with colorful terra roofs. The grass was cut short and little solar-powered night lights lit up the driveway outside the two-car garage. Inside of the house was just as clean as outside in the dim ambiance of table lamps. I only noticed a stray coffee cup in the sink while I lingered around in the kitchen waiting for a change of clothes.
As guessed, Matty and Natalia never made it to the nightcap that was promised. She did, however, make sure to throw a package of half-empty makeup wipes down the hall at me from Mateo’s bathroom before disappearing behind closed doors.
So I begrudgingly found myself on the living room couch with a lethal case of the spins and wearing a pair of Frankie’s boxer briefs and an oversized Go Army! crewneck.
“Socks, as requested,” Frankie offered as he appeared from down the hallway carrying a comforter in his elbow. He tossed the rolled-up bundle to me and crashed onto the opposite end of the sofa. “You could take my bed, it’s much more comfortable.”