Chapter 27

And then I see him.

He’s standing by the big windows, empty glass in hand, talking to someone. Talking to a guy.

A guy who stands too close to Frankie and who leans into him, making it look like he’s just doing it to catch what Frankie’s saying, but the half-closed eyelids and the parted lips tell a different story.

It’s not the first time someone’s hit on Frankie. He’s striking all covered in chocolate in the kitchen; in his suit, he’s devastating.

Usually, I don’t care about people hitting on him, but this time, it’s a punch to the gut. The room starts spinning, my fingers and toes prickle and tingle, and my vision narrows. Everything else going on falls away; all I see is the two of them.

Standing close.

My heartbeats boom in my ears. I want to scream, I want to run, and when the guy puts a hand on Frankie’s arm, my breath dies in my throat.

I grit my teeth. Calm. The Fuck. Down. I make myself take a deep breath. And another.