Love Hurts (10 page)

The brunette grew a little somber at Frankie’s solemn way. “Well isn’t that what you want to. Doesn’t everyone?”

Frankie took a long swig of his beer, sitting it down empty. “No, I don’t want that at all. I’ve managed to live quite a long time without love.” Once he really looked at the brunette he was taken aback by her devious little smirk. And the laidback way she went back and forth with him.

“
I imagine that is a very sad way to live. I would risk heartache over and over again to find the one.”

“
What if the
one
is the one who breaks your heart over and over again?” Frankie injected, really staring at her now. Her unusual hazel eyes shifted around the bar trying to come up with an answer. He had to give her an
a
for effort. At least she wasn’t blurting out the first thing that came out of her mouth. She bit at her bottom lip, her eyebrows knitting together as if it was a struggle to find an answer.

“
Love isn’t perfect. It’s the idea of love that fascinates me. I don’t expect love to be perfect because that would mean us as humans were.” She shifted in her seat. “What do you think?”

Frankie watched the bartender crack open his next beer. “I think it sounds like you paid good money for that college education. You should thank your professors for teaching you how to use all that garbage you call truth.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, touching her friends arm to make her feel better. But she wasn’t giving up so easily Frankie noticed. A part of him remembered that he had just listened in on the girl pouring her heart out about this Reggie and how horrible he had made her feel. But still, there he was beating her up psychologically.

“
I’m a selfish prick,” Frankie announced to them both. They stared at him in awe.

“
We see that,” the blonde said, shaking her head, her long blonde hair dancing around her arms. She was a great looking girl Frankie admitted, but he was more drawn to her friend.

“
I’m selfish and an asshole one hundred percent of the time. But then I think that’s what most girls are drawn to so why should I change,” he rambled, tipping back his beer.

“
Probably the reasons you’re not interested in love,” the blonde said. “I’m Regan by the way.” She extended her hand. Frankie didn’t accept, he held tight to the beer not wanting to make contact. He wasn’t in the mood to waste his energy on ending this girl tonight. She quickly returned her hand to the countertop, letting out a huff.

“
See, why would you do that?” Frankie asked. He was a lot drunker then he thought he was. “I tell you I’m no good and you extend yourself to me.”

The other girl, the one catching Frankie’s eye time and time again, stared at her friend, a giant smirk erupting on her face. She found this guy funny, funnier than anyone else in the bar. He wasn’t trying to pick them up, he was eagerly creating conversation. And she was intrigued.

“
That’s because Regan doesn’t know when to shut up,” she pointed out, “I’m Dylan.”

Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Dylan is a boy’s name. Why would your parents do that to you?” Even her name was interesting.

She shoved her dark hair behind her ear, shooting him an exasperated expression. “They were pretty confident that I could handle it.” She had heard all the insults before in her life. But she liked her name and she liked that her parents were willing to live on the edge and do something bold. She liked bold.

“
I see that,” Frankie responded. He took a quick look at her drink. “You can handle Jack Daniels too huh?”

Dylan dropped her gaze, her fingers tinkering with the shot glass. She was going to show him. She picked it up, dropping her head back, her eyes squeezing tightly shut in response to the liquor coursing down the back of her throat.

“
Nice. A girl who can hang with the boys,” Frankie said, watching her pull it together. She smoothed her hair, slamming the shot down on the table. “What else can you do?”

Dylan’s friend Regan checked the time. She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. “It’s late. I need to get home.” Dylan didn’t move. Her gaze was glued on Frankie. “Are you coming back to campus or you sticking around here with the prick?”

Dylan pointed a finger in Frankie’s direction. “What’s your name prick?”

Frankie smirked. “Frankie. But feel free to call me either one.”

Regan collected her things and shot her friend a disappointed look at her choice in sticking around with a character such as Frankie. But she left her there because she was an adult and could make her own decisions.

Frankie scooted over, his arms atop the bar counter. He looked at her, a big grin on his face.

Dylan leaned into him. “Shall we get another shot of jack?”

Frankie studied her features, really debating on getting anymore drunk then he already was. “Sure, what could it hurt?”

“
Absolutely nothing, “Dylan replied, watching him drop several bills on the counter for her to order more drinks for the two of them.

***

Delaney snapped her purse shut. She was in a hurry to pick up Rose and take her to the airport. Sadly it was the end of Rose’s extended visit. And she was flying back home. She assured Delaney that she would be back in six months. The length of time before Delaney’s wedding.

Sam snuck up behind Delaney, wrapping his arms around her. He breathed her flowery scent in with great appreciation. “Where you heading out to so early this morning?” Sam nuzzled her neck, kissing her tenderly.

Delaney wished she could stay in bed all day with him. But she had school and a dinner with her parents to think about for the rest of the day. She wasn’t as fortunate as Vance. He came from a family of money. She wasn’t quite sure the logistics of it all, but he had explained the family business had been gifted to him when one of his great uncles died, leaving him with an endless bounty of cash, and plenty of free time.

“
I am taking Rose to the airport. Did you want to come along? We could stop at that little restaurant you love and share breakfast before my classes.” She hurriedly gathered all her things leaving Sam without much room to wiggle his way out of it.

“
Yeah, but I’m not even dressed. I don’t want to make you run late,” he said, trying to come up with an excuse. Delaney lifted the bottom of his shirt, running her hands up his abdomen. She pecked his lips, being careful not to go overboard. After the last unpleasant incident she wasn’t going to push him. She told herself it was only six months and then she could have what she wanted. Sex.

“
I like you in anything that you wear.” She smiled, their noses touching. Sam kissed her forehead.

“
You
do. But I highly doubt the staff at that place will be okay with my attire.” He waited for her to say goodbye and be off. But she wasn’t budging. “Let me change.”

Delaney smiled, happy to have his company. She crossed her arms, diving into all the big things she had to get done before the wedding while she waited for him to dress.

***

Frankie rolled over in bed, stunned to find Dylan staring at him—in his bed of all places. He shot up. “How did you get here?” And why didn’t he remember?

She laughed, rolling onto her stomach, holding herself up by her elbows. “You invited me remember?”

He didn’t remember a thing. The last thing he recalled was the conversation of love, and the agreement to take shots of Jack Daniels with her. “Did you roofie me?”
And why aren’t you dead?

“
I did not roofie you.” Dylan stood up, wearing nothing but her undershirt and panties. Frankie checked her out as she bounced around his apartment, opening the blinds, straightening up his coffee table, really making herself at home. She lifted an odd statuette from his end table studying it closely.

“
Well, that’s good to know,” Frankie said, letting out a loud yawn. His head was killing him. He threw back the covers, staring down at his naked body, confusion starting to creep into his mind. How was he naked and she was still stalking around no problem? He stood, throwing a pillow over his lower region. “Hey, you didn’t happen to see where I put my pants did you?”

Dylan barely paid him any mind as she flipped through his photo albums. This was not how Frankie wanted his morning to start. “I think you took them off in your bathroom last night.”

Frankie shook his head, dropping the pillow and heading for his bathroom. This was his house he wasn’t going to act all prim and proper for anyone. Besides, he woke up in bed naked with the girl. She had seen it all already.

Dylan grinned, watching his rear vanish behind the bathroom door. She thought he was absolutely gorgeous and a whole lot of fun. She wondered into his tiny kitchen opening each cupboard looking for coffee of any kind.

“
Instant, yuck,” she said, scouring the rest of the cupboards for an electric coffee pot or even a coffee mug. If she was going to fight the approaching hangover she needed her caffeine. She was a professional binge drinker most nights, but she knew the drill, if she didn’t have her coffee she was going to be paying for it really soon.

“
The coffee pot is underneath my sink. If that’s what you’re looking for,” Frankie said, appearing behind her in a pair of sweats. She couldn’t judge whether or not he was feeling like crap. But judging by the amount of shots he consumed, she was convinced he felt like death or close to it.

“
Thanks, you’re a life saver,” Dylan said, quickly putting it together, Frankie handing over all the needed items as she hurried along.

“
That’s a new one,” Frankie said, watching her on her tip toes trying to figure out his pricey coffee maker. He enjoyed the flex of her calves as she did her best to reduce the headache about to creep up on her.

“
Oh. If you’re wondering if we had sex, we didn’t,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “You were an absolute gentleman.”

“
That’s a new one,” Frankie said again, leaning against his counter. “I know we didn’t. I wasn’t worried about it.”

Dylan laughed, amused by his statement. She snapped the lid shut. “You know we didn’t? How would you know that? Maybe we did and I am just covering it up because you weren’t good at it.”

Frankie moved in front of her, staring her down. His arms crossed so no contact could be made between them. Dylan tilted her head, staring him down as if they were playing a game of chicken. “Believe me, if we did, I would know. And I am
very
good at it, just so you know.”

The air was filled with sexual tension. The sound of the percolating coffee behind them was the only thing filling the room at the moment. Dylan swallowed down her nerves. She really wanted to kiss him. She had wanted to all night. But Frankie told her in many drunken words that he was tired of relationships of any kind, and something about love. It was hard to make sense of his rants. But she stuck around and listened because he was fun to talk to.

“
I want to kiss you,” she said, self-assured and not embarrassed to admit it. Frankie’s eyes fluttered, proving she had taken him by surprise. She liked this. She blinked, smiling effortlessly at the expression on his face. He brought a hand to his mouth, running his hand across his five o’clock shadow.