Chapter 87

“All right!” I say, probably a little louder than I need to, snapping my eyes away from Nico’s wicked grin. “That’s enough movie for me!” I rip my hand from Christian’s in the same moment that I swing my legs off the couch and out of Frankie’s grasp, knocking my blanket to the floor. Quickly, I stand and start to move around the coffee table.

“Iris!” Christian protests, frowning at me, confused.

Unfortunately, at the same moment, Frankie gasps and asks, “Are you okay!?”

Nico bursts into delighted laughter, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back, enjoying himself as he watches the drama unfold.

Frankie and Christian both stare at me and then glance at each other, both frowning just a little at the other’s protest.

“I’m fine!” I say, my voice a little high with my panic, and I force a smile to my face as I dart quickly around the couch and start towards my room. “No worries! Just tired! Just…wanting a good night sleep! Bye! Goodnight! Bye!”

Frankie and Christian stare at me like an insane person as I basically run away, babbling and waving to them. Nico just grins, still laughing a little, victorious.

And as I slip into my room, and shut the door hard behind me, and lean back against it, I scowl. Because I’m well aware that Nico is going to enjoy the hell out of torturing me about this, seeing what he can get out of me before he inevitably tells Christian or Frankie – or both! – and absolutely ruins my life.

I groan, and push up from the door, storming towards my bathroom.

Because even though I would absolutely love to blame Nico right now – there’s no missing the reality of the situation: that I’m the only one to blame.

I slam my bathroom door closed too, enraged at myself as I grab my toothbrush and start to brush my teeth, glaring at myself in the mirror. Who the hell do I think I am, after all? Putting myself in a situation where one moment Christian’s kissing me in the pouring rain, and then Frankie’s kissing me in the storage closet, and I’m just what…

Juggling them!?

Juggling the Mafia King and his casually lethal super cute bodyguard!?

God. How did I get myself into this?

I’m so, so stupid.

I spit my toothpaste out and glare at myself again before flicking the lights off, sick of the sight of myself. I head back into my bedroom, quickly pulling on some pajamas before flopping down into my bed.

Because the worst part of this? The worst part of all of it?

Is that even though I’m unable to deny anymore that I’m in a stupid, idiotic, likely-to-get-me-killed love triangle with two dangerous men – the horrible fact of it all is that neither of them actually want me.

Frankie – he’s been forbidden to touch me.

And Christian! He has a girlfriend! A really pretty, very nice, very serious girlfriend! Whom I like!

I groan, and cover my face with my hands, shaking my head, desolate and ashamed of myself for letting myself get into this situation. Two absolutely impossible men, giving me the scraps of their impossible affection.

And I’m just…in the middle of it.

There’s no way – no way at all – that this has a happy ending.

So, what the hell am I doing?

I sigh and pull my hands down and away from my face, staring up at the ceiling, wondering about what the hell I’m going to do.

But when that wondering offers no solutions…I start to wonder about what it is that I actually want.

Because – I mean – let’s imagine for a second that a relationship with either of them actually is possible. Even though it’s not…just for experimentation’s sake…if it were…

Which one of them would I want? Would I want either of them?

My mind moves first to Frankie,

Frankie, so is so sweet and dedicated to me. And honestly, I know that he’s basically being paid to be my bodyguard and mind me, but with the way things are between us now it honestly feels like he’d do it anyway, even if he weren’t paid. I take a moment to consider whether or not that’s true, but instantly my gut says yes – that Frankie, he cares about me.

I know that it would be very difficult for Frankie if he were given another assignment – guarding Christian, or really anyone else, because it would mean that he didn’t get to watch over me every day. Didn’t get to joke with me and to laugh with me. Didn’t get to keep me safe.

And as I think it…well, I wonder if that’s true, or if I’m writing my own emotions onto Frankie in this moment. If Christian did give him another assignment, I’d miss Frankie terribly.

But Frankie – he’s holding back, isn’t he? We’re clearly close, and he likes being around me, but am I looking too far into one tiny little kiss when I was very upset? Am I looking too far into a hand slipping beneath a blanket and touching my calf, of all things – not the most romantic body part, that’s for sure.

Is he just flirting? Being nice? Does he even know that I’m reacting this way to these tiny things – would he think that I’m ridiculous if he did? I groan a little, tortured by the thought that I’m reading into it too much – which is something that I’ve done before.

Which is something I’ve done with Christian, in fact – and might be doing again.

When we were kids, he was always so nice to me – always so sweet. And there was a moment, just before he moved away, when I wondered if he had a crush on me – wondered if it was more than just friendship.

But I had been proven excruciatingly wrong when I saw him behind the school, kissing Susie Pratt, who was tall and pretty and brunette.

The opposite of me.

Actually, someone who looks a lot like Violetta, now that I think about it…

I sigh, turning my head to the side and folding my hands over my stomach, anxious. Because…my gut tells me that there’s more here with Christian. That that kiss outside Edward’s car – there had been a desperation to that kiss. The way he moved his mouth on mine, the way he grabbed me to him – it was like it was illegal, and he was a thief, and he was taking something forbidden and making it his own.

My hand moves up to my mouth now, my fingertips brushing against my lips, remembering.

I had been…the most intense moment of my life, to that point.

Perhaps only beat by the discovery of the corpse, not more than thirty seconds later, of the man I’d been on a date with that night.

I sigh, exhausted and miserable, pressing my eyes shut and hoping desperately for sleep.

It evades me, of course, for a long time.

It’s only when I realize that I’m keeping my ear half turned towards the door, wondering if one of them will come in, as they’ve both done before –

And which one I’d want it to be –

And imagining what I’d say to either –

To both –

That I groan, and whip my covers over my head, and turn my face into my pillow so that no one can hear my agonized moan.

This whole thing – it’s untenable, isn’t it?

There’s no way we can all live like this for long – with this secret between us, this intense attraction pulling me in two different ways.

The only question is…where will the chips fall when it all comes apart?