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avastrasposts · 2 years ago

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The Pilot and his girl - ch. 3

So I have a clear plan for where this fic is going now, yay! I've outlined about 13-14 chapters and we're gonna do a little bit of TLoU crossover down the line so expect a Joel/Tommy cameo at some point :) I also decided on a title finally so it's now offically The Pilot and his girl

I'll add warnings as needed but there's only fluff in these first few chapters, playing around with our sweet Frankie.

(oh, btw, for anyone who notices, I know "chamo" is Venezuelan, but I love the expression, maybe the chef is from Venezuela :) )

Taglist: @pimosworld

Chapter 4

It’s not until Denny drives past in his truck and honks loudly that Frankie and you finally break apart, you’re giggling into Frankie’s neck as he waves at his boss and from the corner of your eye you see Denny give Frankie a gleeful thumb’s up through the window.

“Maybe I should take you somewhere nicer than an airfield,” Frankie says and pushes back a strand of your hair. He’s got his hand hooked around your shoulders, behind your head, and the other still on your cheek. He’s warm and solid pressed up against you, the warm metal of the car at your back and him in front.

“I don’t wanna break the mood,” you smile at him, “but I’m really hungry. Do you wanna have lunch since our breakfast was cut short?”

“I’m fucking starving,” Frankie confesses with a grin. “There’s a small place nearby that does really good tacos if you like that? They’re really good and they’re usually quiet during the day.”

“Tacos sounds awesome, I haven’t had any in ages.”

“Ok then, let’s get some tacos in you,” Frankie pulls you in for a final kiss, which turns into another long, slow exploration of each other's tongues until Frankie’s stomach rumbles loudly in protest and you start giggling pressed against his lips. Frankie reluctantly lets go of your bottom lip and glances down at his small belly.

“Traitor,” he scolds it and reaches behind you to open the door to the truck, giving you a hand inside.

…

The taco place really is nearby, less than ten minutes later Frankie pulls into a small parking lot next to a green park. Across the road is a small cluster of buildings, one sporting a big chilli pepper and the sign “El Chibiski” in bright colours.

“I thought we could get some food and then eat in the park if you want?” Frankie asks as he parks the car and pulls off his hoodie, you copy him and leave his green one in the truck.

“You’ve got this all planned out, it sounds like a great idea,” you say as he jumps out of the car and quickly comes round to your side to open the door. “You’re never gonna let me open this door, are you?” you smile as he takes your hand and you step down.

“No, never,” he grins and closes it behind you.

The taqueria is almost empty, the lunch rush over, and the smell that hits you as Frankie opens the door is mouth watering. As if on cue your stomach rumbles and he chuckles as you look at the menu over the counter.

“Got any recommendations?” you ask him, “I definitely want some pastor but it all looks good.”

“The carnitas are my weakness, and the gringas.” He points to two dishes on the board. “I say we get all three and some bistec ones too and just share everything, seeing as they don’t have fries on the menu.” He says the last thing with a grin and a quick glance at you.

“I guess that means you’re getting a second date, Morales,” you huff in fake exasperation, “should’ve known you had ulterior motives.”

“Oh no, you’ve seen right through my clever plans, cariño,” he giggles as you give him a playful slap on the shoulder. He gives your hand a quick squeeze, smiling under his cap, before stepping forward to order, adding a couple of bottles of water too.

You watch Frankie chat in Spanish to the guy taking the order, exchanging jokes as he relays the order back to the kitchen. It sounds like Frankie comes here a lot by the way the chef greets him too when he spots him through the open order window. It’s an easy atmosphere and it’s nice seeing Frankie’s relaxed manner with the staff. You can only see him from behind but his head falls back as he laughs loudly at something the guy behind the counter says, and the chef yells a response from the kitchen, making them break out into more laughter. There’s something about seeing a guy you’re dating be liked by others, like a little green flag popping up. But to be fair, so far you’d seen no red flags around Frankie. He seems to be exactly what he looks like; a friendly guy, a little bit shy sometimes, but easy to like and easy to be around, a warm personality that seems to shine when he’s comfortable and in his element. You find yourself smiling as you hear Frankie laughing again, he makes you feel good, even though you’ve known him less than twenty four hours.

When he comes back over he's got a big grin on his face, still chuckling from the jokes at the counter.

“They always tell the dirtiest jokes,” he says, “I’m too embarrassed to translate them,” he smiles as he sits down in the chair next to you.

“You know I speak Spanish, right?” you smirk at him and his eyes widen in shocked surprise and his neck immediately starts turning red, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“¿Tú hablas español?”

“Not a word, but seeing you blush was totally worth the lie, you’re so cute.” You can’t help touching his flushed cheeks.

Frankie bursts into rumbling laughter as he grabs you and pulls you closer, chair and all. “Cheeky girl,” he grins and takes hold of your chin before kissing you softly. You kiss him back with a smile and his scruffy beard tickles your cheek when he moves his lips and presses a soft kiss just below you ear.

“Maybe I should teach you some Spanish,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, “so I can tell you exactly what you do to me when you’re this close.” He presses his lips to the thin skin under your ear again, letting his tongue slip out for a taste of the salt before kissing it again. Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver runs down your spine, heat pooling between your legs, creeping up your neck. When Frankie leans back he gives you a cheeky smile. “Now who’s blushing, hermosa?”

You hook a couple of fingers into his t-shirt and pull him in for another kiss and he comes willingly, still with a cheeky smile.

It takes a few more minutes, you’re lost in your own bubble with Frankie, but when someone loudly clears their throat next to you, you reluctantly lean back and look up.

“Chamo, enserio?” The chef is holding out a take away bag for Frankie, grinning down at him, and Frankie gives a little embarrassed shrug and takes the bag while the chef gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder, smiles at you and retreats into the kitchen, waving at Frankie’s “Gracias”.

Frankie calls out a goodbye to the guy behind the counter as you leave the restaurant, his hand seems to automatically fall to the small of your back now, and you cross the street to the park. The park isn’t big, but big enough so that when you walk towards the middle the noises from the street and the city are muted. Frankie stops by his truck and pulls out a blanket from the backseat and when you find a shady spot under a big leafy tree he shakes it out for you both to sit on.

The smell from the take away containers makes your stomach rumble as Frankie pops them open and when you finally get to bite into a taco with pastor meat you moan and let your head fall back.

“This is so fucking good, Frankie,” you groan and go for another bite, missing how Frankie’s hands stops trying to pick up one of the carnitas as his eyes go dark, fixed on your mouth. He swallows and shifts on the blanket, looking down at his food again.

“Yeah, they do the best Mexican in town, we go there for lunch a lot since it’s so close to the airfield.” He grabs his taco and keeps his eyes on it as he takes a big bite, trying to ignore the way you moan again at the taste.

“I can see why you like it, I’d be here every lunch if it was this close to my job,” you say, trying to catch some juice that’s running down your hand.

“I go too often to be honest, I think the carnitas are directly responsible for my old man’s belly,” Frankie looks down at his midriff and pats the small soft swell under his t-shirt, “definitely not as flat as it was in my 20’s.”

“I like it,” you say, “can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but…it’s kinda sexy on a guy, something soft when you’re all hard angles and muscles everywhere else.”

“You think my old man’s belly is sexy?” Frankie is looking pretty pleased about your confession.

“Yeah, I do. And stop calling it an old man’s belly, you can’t be that old?”

“34, and I’m already going grey,” Frankie scrubs at his beard, where there’s a few strands of grey with the dark brown.

“Oh yeah, you’re ancient.” you smile and touch your fingertips to his few grey hairs. “A whole two years older than me.”

“I nearly had a panic attack when I saw the first grey one,” Frankie says, “but my friend Pope has loads and he’s younger so I try not to worry.”

“I think you look really good, Frankie, with or without grey hair,” you reply and he looks over with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes him look so soft and sweet.

“Thank you, hermosa, and I think you’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Frankie…” you blush and can’t even make yourself look at him as he continues to smile at you. “I’m serious,” he says, “you made my heart stop when you smiled in the bar last night, and you weren’t even looking at me.”

You’re too overwhelmed by his attention to even find your voice and just blush even more like a fool while you pretend to pick another taco from the boxes. Your heart is racing at a hundred miles per hour and you can still feel Frankie smiling at you, his half eaten taco in hand.

“Fuck!” Frankie suddenly sputters out. You look up at him and see a large drip of juice from his taco trickling down his white t-shirt. “Damn, I guess I was pushing my luck with the tacos after the cherry pie,” he grumbles and gratefully takes the napkins you hand him. Wiping at the stain only makes it worse, spreading it out, and Frankie soon gives up, accepting his now stained appearance. “Can’t take me anywhere,” he gives you an apologetic smile and finishes off his carnita.

It’s easy to hang out with Frankie as you share the remaining tacos, sitting close to him on the blanket, talking about movies. He’s making a list of horror movies for a future date and your loud protests make him laugh as he lists one movie gorier than the other. Finally you force him to have the last carnita, your stomach already full, and as he bites into it you tip backwards onto the blanket.

“I’m so full, Frankie, I’m never eating again,” you groan as you put your hands over your belly, laying flat on your back. You can hear Frankie chuckle with his mouth full and you glance up at his profile. The air is warm in the shade under the tree, the light filtering through the leaves makes a dappled pattern over his body and cheeks but his nose and eyes are still shaded by the peak of his cap.

“Frankie, come here,” you beckon him and he turns to look down at you as you put your hand on his shoulder. He wipes his hands and his mouth on a napkin, before stretching out next to you, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Can I take your cap off?”

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you reach up and pull it off him. The sun immediately creates a halo of unruly curls around his head and you can see the dark brown of his eyes change to something more amber. Looking at the way the sun turns his dark brown curls golden you reach up and push your fingertips through them, your nails scratching along his scalp as the smooth strands slip underneath your hands. A shiver runs through him and he closes his eyes, leaning into your hands, as you play with his curls, letting them wrap around your fingers and watch how they bounce back when you let go. Frankie sighs and drops down on your chest, resting his head just above your stomach. “Please, don’t stop doing that,” he pleads and you continue to run your fingers through his hair, hearing him moan gently as his breathing slows down.

You’re not sure when he actually falls asleep but when you hear a soft snore from him you realise he’s in a deep slumber on your chest, one arm thrown across your stomach. Continuing to caress his curls, making them stand on end even more, you close your eyes too and enjoy the feeling of his solid body pressed against your side and warm breaths against your t-shirt. It doesn’t take long before you’re asleep too.

…

Frankie wakes up first, blinking at the bright light and feeling disorientated before turning his head and seeing you sleeping with a hand in his hair. Your head is tilted sideways, your mouth slightly open and he can feel your chest rise and fall with your gentle breaths. Carefully he pushes himself up so that he can move his arm and slide the back of his hand across your cheek. Sleep and sun has made your skin flushed and he relishes the silky feel of it as he caresses you lightly.

The movement must have roused you because he sees your eyes move as you slowly blink, turning your head to focus on him.

“Hi,” he says gently with a smile and you smile back at him, “Hi, Frankie.”

You yawn, clamping a hand over your mouth and giggling as it makes Frankie yawn too. He scoots up further so that he can prop himself up on his elbow closer to your head and his hand leaves your cheek, caressing down your neck, stroking random patterns over your skin.

“I guess tacos make us sleepy,” he smiles and you nod, slightly distracted by how close he is as he leans over you, blocking the sun. His curls are even more unruly, sticking up all over his head, and you run your hand over them again, lacing in your fingers into the curls at his neck and pulling him down towards your mouth. He comes willingly, his lips finding yours easily and when he parts them for you, his tongue is soft and eager against yours. The cool tip of his nose brushes against your cheek as he moves closer, deepening the kiss when you let out a low moan against him. Your fingers wrap tightly around his neck and your other hand finds the side of his chest, the warm cotton soft against your palm as you touch him properly for the first time. He’s firm under your touch, bunched muscles as he holds himself up over you and you caress further up his back. You relish in being able to feel the curve of his shoulder, the way his spine dips between his shoulder blades and disappears down towards the edge of his jeans, wishing there was no fabric under your hand.

You feel his hand leave your neck, graze across your throat and softly brush against your breast as Frankie lets his fingertips trail down along your torso, finding the sliver of skin between your jeans and t-shirt. With a soft grip he runs his thumb along it, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

“Is this ok?” he whispers close to your mouth as his hand caresses under your t-shirt.

“Yes, Frankie,” you murmur and push your lips against his, tasting him on your tongue as your need for him grows, a louder moan escaping you. Your response makes him bolder and he pushes you into the blanket with a growl, buried against your mouth. His large hand is flat against your torso and you can feel how he wants to move it further up under your shirt, to feel more, grab more, but you’re still out in the open, still in public, and with a groan he pulls back. He slumps down beside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh. His hand leaves your skin, instead he rests it modestly on your stomach, over your t-shirt.

“Tan suave, hermosa,” he mumbles, “When can I see you again?” He pushes himself up on his elbow again, looking down at you with eyes that seem darker.

“I’m busy next weekend, the wedding,” you explain with an apologetic smile, “but after that I’m all yours.”

“All mine, huh?” Frankie grins and you wink back at him. “I wanna take you out for dinner, properly, but I also don’t wanna wait two weeks to see you again,” he says, “maybe we can catch up for drinks or something before then? Or dinner if things aren’t too crazy at the airfield, depending on when I can get away.”

“I’d like that, Frankie, “ you smile at him, “I’ll check with the bride what the plans are for this week so I know what evenings I’m free, I know she had some sort of social events planned and then the rehearsal dinner on Friday.”

“Wow, she’s going all out with this wedding?” Frankie raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, full on everything, rehearsal dinner, actual wedding day and then spa day and brunch on Sunday. I’m going to work on Monday after the wedding to relax…” you sigh, thinking about how drained you were going to be after three days of socialising with a crowd mostly made up of strangers. “Speaking of next week,” you say with a glance at your phone, “I should probably get home and get everything ready for it.”

“Yeah, sounds like you’ve got an intense week coming up,” Frankie smiles and pushes himself up to his feet before giving his hand to you, pulling you to your feet. “I’d love to see you soon if you can but don’t stress it, there’s time.”

He pulls you in for a kiss as you stand, wrapping your arms around his neck before sliding his hands down your waist, stopping to tug you closer to him. You press up against him, feeling his belt buckle dig into your stomach and his mustache tickles you as he gently makes you open your mouth to him again. Kissing him feels addicting and when he starts pulling away you slip your fingers into the curls at the back of his head and slowly let your fingernails run along his scalp. He immediately moans and pulls closer again, melting against you.

It takes you a while to get back to the truck, stopping for more kisses, Frankie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, and his soft lips so easy to reach up to, his hand sliding up to hold your neck, grabbing your hair and pulling you in for another long kiss while the afternoon slips away. When you’re finally by the passenger door he cages you in against the truck, his hands on either side of your head as you pull him closer, needing more of him. It leaves you both breathless, Frankie shifting his stance when his obvious hard on becomes uncomfortable but it does nothing to hide it.

“Sorry,” he mutters when he pulls back a little from you, giving you an embarrassed little grin, “it’s difficult to control when you’re so close, hermosa, you feel so good.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble, pulling him back, “mine’s less obvious but just as out of control.” Frankie groans and drops his head to his chest before taking a deep breath, “Ok, I need to get you home before you say more things like that.” He opens the door behind you, “Get in before I change my mind.”

…

Frankie drives back to the coffee shop where your car is parked and pulls up next to it, again jumping out and coming around to your door to open it. You stay in your seat until he puts out his hand for yours this time and he gives you a warm smile.

“You’re learning, cariño, never letting you touch this door.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smile back and take his hand and step down. He holds onto it as you walk over to your car, parked just down the street. After you unlock it and put your jacket inside you turn back to him. He’s smiling down at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his face is so handsome and warm it makes you wish you could call off all the plans for the week and just spend it with him.

“I’ve had a really good time, Frankie,” you say as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb smooth over your skin.

“Me too,” he says, “call me about next week, I’ll make sure that Denny lets me leave on time any evening you’re not busy. I really want to see you again soon, hermosa.” The last thing he says as his thumb caresses your lips, tracing the outline of them, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your mouth.

“I’ll see if I can get out of some of all the social events, maybe Wednesday’s…” You close your eyes as Frankie’s beard tickles the side of your neck, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “You’re making it very hard to concentrate, Frankie,” you protest weakly and you hear him chuckle before he pulls back.

“Ok, I’ll let you go,” he gives you a grin, “I need to start planning our movie date, need to get my dvd of The Shining back, I thought we’d start with that one.”

Your face pulls into a grimace, wrinkling your nose at the prospect of a horror film and it makes Frankie laugh.

“Un-wrinkle your face, hermosa,” he rubs his thumb down your nose with a grin, “I won’t really make you watch it if you don’t want to.”

“Let’s start with something less scary, please.”

“Anything you want, really,” he replies and you lean into him, kissing him one last time before getting in your car. “Thank you, Frankie, for today.”

“See you soon, hermosa,” he smiles back at you.

…

Your week turns out to be more hectic than anticipated and as Friday rolls around you still haven't been able to see Frankie. Between your work, his work and the looming wedding, all you’d managed was a few phone calls late in the evenings when you got home. You’d hear Frankie’s sleepy voice assure you it wasn’t too late when you called him and then his rich baritone would keep you company as you got ready for bed. On Thursday you’d crawled into bed and facetimed him, his dimly lit bedroom making his eyes black as he smiled at your big yawns. You wish you could ask him to come over and just sleep next to you, the ache for him almost physically painful. When you said goodnight and turned off your phone you rolled onto your side, trying to imagine what it would feel like if you had Frankie’s warm body curled around your own as you drifted off to sleep.

Friday morning you put on your office clothes and pack a bag for the rehearsal dinner; a dress and heels to swap into after work before heading to the very upscale restaurant booked by the groom’s parents. Frankie has sent you a sweet good morning text and you reply as you wait for your coffee to drip down, smiling at his usual lack of capital letters, punctuation or any apostrophes. You’d asked him about it during the week, thinking maybe his phone was broken, and after a few awkward chuckles he’d confessed; he just hadn’t figured out how to do them on a smartphone and now he was too embarrassed to ask anyone. You’d tried to not laugh, his flustered huffs down the phone made you want to hug him tight, and you’d promised to show him how to do it the next time you met.

“Didn’t realise I’d need a college degree just to type on the phone,” he’d chortled.

…

You manage to leave work a little bit early and change into your dress and heels, touching up your make-up and hair, before heading out. As you arrive early to the restaurant you find one of your best friends, Sophia, at the bar. She’d missed the bachelorette party and had only just flown in for the wedding weekend, her suitcase still next to her bar stool. She waves both her hands over her head when she spots you and you all but run over to her with your arms outstretched.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetie,” Sophia says after you’ve both stopped hugging and squealing, tucking her arm under yours, squeezing it tightly. “I miss having you around.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you move to another continent and decide to marry some random Welsh girl,” you reply. Sophia had married Carys three years earlier and moved back with her to London a year later. “Speaking of, where is she? Not here for the wedding?”

“She is, but she had to wrap something up at work, she’ll be here in time for dinner.”

The bartender comes over and you both order champagne, seeing as it’s the groom’s parents who will be footing the bill for the open bar. Sophie grabs her suitcase and glass and motions you over to one of the booths.

“So what’s going on with you? I hate to be the one that asks the obvious question but…anyone new in your life? It’s been ages since..you know who…and I’d love to see you happy with someone.”

You take a sip of the champagne to avoid answering straight away. You didn’t like talking about the people you were dating too soon, preferring to find your footing and know where it was heading before fielding a hundred questions from your friends. But Sophia was different, she wouldn’t start planning your wedding or pester you to introduce him to her, and she was a solid judge of character.

“Ok, so…” you start slowly and Sophia lights up, her smile like a thousand watts, “I did meet this one guy last Saturday.”

“I fucking knew it!” she exclaims, “you looked different, happy different, sweetie.”

“We’ve only had one date so far, but it was really nice,” you say, smiling at the memory of your Sunday with Frankie.

“What’s his name?” Sophia asks, sipping her drink.

“Frankie, Francisco Morales.”

“Good name, great name, very solid.” Sophia smiles, “I approve of his mother’s choice of name.”

“Dumbass,” you chide her with a snicker. “He was at the last bar we went to with the bachelorette party, he was there with some friends, and he was so sweet and handsome and kinda shy that I gave him my number, despite swearing to never do that again.”

“Sweet and handsome is good, what does he look like?”

“I won’t do him justice at all, but he has brown, curly hair, dark brown eyes and an adorable scruffy beard with a dimple. But his face is just perfectly sweet and soft and when he smiles his eyes go all warm and I feel like I can’t move when he looks at me.”

“Girl, you have a crush on this man, I can tell…” Sophia giggles and clinks her glass against yours.

“I do, I can’t deny,” you laugh with her. “We kissed on Sunday and, oh my god, I just wanted to take him home and keep him in my bed for a week, maybe two.” You lean back, sighing as you remember how Frankie’s body felt pressed up against yours, his eager tongue slipping against yours as his hand slipped under your t-shirt.

“So do it, what have you got to lose?”

“Nothing, but this week has been crazy and the entire weekend is packed. He knows I’m busy so we’re gonna try to meet up for drinks some night next week. But definitely dinner next Saturday,” you take another sip of your champagne.

“Ok, but what are you doing here tonight, babe?” Sophia looks at you with a frown. “It’s not like you have to be at the rehearsal dinner, bail and go see him instead.”

“Lizzy would kill me, and if not her than Steve’s mother, they’re paying for this thing.”

“Lizzy will not kill you if you ditch her for a guy that makes you smile like that,” Sophia points a meaningful finger at your face, you can’t seem to make the corners of your mouth go down. Talking about Frankie has you longing for him and as Sophia pokes you in the side you start giggling, wriggling away from her. “Go see him, call him right now, see if he’s free, and then you go fuck his brains out and come to the wedding as a new woman.” She pokes you again, “Go now, call him. If he’s available I’ll talk to Lizzy.”

“Ok, ok, jeez, woman, I’m going,” you laugh and push yourself out of the booth.

You leave the bar area and wander out to the patio in the back, away from the crowd that’s starting to congregate in the restaurant, as you pull up Frankie’s number on your phone.

“Hey, hermosa,” his warm, rich voice comes through the phone after two rings and you feel yourself smiling. “What’s up, I thought you were at the rehearsal dinner?

“I am, it’s just about to start. I just wanted to talk to you, I wish we could’ve made time to meet up this week.”

“Yeah, me too, cariño, I’m sorry I was so busy at work.”

“No, I’m the one who’s had the crazy week and all the stuff planned this weekend. But I was thinking, maybe I can sneak away from this dinner early and we can meet up, unless you already have plans?”

“I do, I’m meeting the boys for a couple of drinks, but I will most definitely ditch them for you any day.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he gets eager about the idea.

“Maybe if I stay for the actual dinner here and leave when that’s done? So you can hang out with your friends first and then we can meet up for a drink or something?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, we’re going to some new place downtown that Will wanted to try out, and I think it’s pretty close to your restaurant. Send me a message when dinner is done and I’ll come and meet you there, ok?” In the background you can hear someone yell, “Come on, Fish!” and he calls for them to give him a sec.

“Go Frankie, go with them, I’ll message you when I’m done.” You feel heat rising in your cheeks at the thought of seeing Frankie again so soon. Frankie’s voice is softer and lower, you can hear him walking, his boots scuffing across a hard surface as he replies.

“Can’t wait, hermosa, I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Frankie.”

…

True to her word, Sophia pulls Lizzy to one side during the dinner and explains why you’ll be disappearing as soon as her uncle Herb has wrapped up his rambling speech about Steve mowing his lawn. Both women shoot you wide grins and thumbs up across the room as you excuse yourself while the coffee and dessert is being brought in, fumbling in your bag for your phone to text Frankie.

You wait for him to arrive just inside the entrance of the restaurant and can’t help but laugh as Sophia’s head pops out from behind one of the large potted plants, looking like she’s in a bad spy movie.

“What?” she giggles, “I just wanna see this guy who’s got you all smiley. I’ll be totally discreet.”

“Come here, dumbass,” you say fondly, and she wraps her arms around you in a big hug.

“Sweetie, I hope he’s all you want him to be, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Soph, you’ve always got my back,” you peck her on the cheek and she gives you a smile before glancing over at the big windows on either side of the glass door.

“Please tell me that’s him,” she mouths, her eyes widening slightly.

You turn and spot Frankie walking towards the door and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. He hasn’t seen you yet and as you watch he smooths his large hands down the front of his dark red button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong looking forearms. He’s ditched the cap and the evening breeze ruffles his curls, making them escape the attempt you can see he’s made at taming them. He’s got dark jeans on, hugging his thighs and showing off his ridiculous shoulder to hip ratio. Spotting you through the door his eyes crinkle and he gives you that sweet nervous smile. You smile back at him as his hand shoots up and rubs the back of his neck, his ever present awkward little gesture that makes your heart clench.

You’re about to turn and say goodbye to Sophia when she swiftly steps forwards and opens the door to the restaurant for Frankie.

“You must be Frankie,” she beams at him, ushering him inside.

“Uh, yeah, I am, hi,” he stutters, taking the hand Sophia holds out.

“Hi Frankie,” you say, “this is my friend Sophia, she’s just leaving.” You give her a stern look that she ignores.

“Really nice to meet you, Frankie, I’m so happy I convinced my darling friend here to ditch this dull crowd and call you instead.” She’s still beaming at Frankie, unashamedly looking him up and down as you step closer to him. He seems to find himself a little and gives Sophia a friendly smile before turning his attention back to you.

“Hi, hermosa,” he says in a low voice as he drops his head and kisses your cheek, his hand landing on your waist and pulling you closer.

Sophia gives you a quick thumbs up and an excited grin before Frankie looks up again.

“Alright, Mr Morales, take my girl out and show her a good time, you have my blessing,” she croons and starts ushering you both out the door. “Now get going before you get roped into this damn wedding again, sweetie.”

“Bye, Soph, I’ll see you tomorrow.” you call out as you leave, Frankie’s arm still around your waist.

You both laugh as you walk down the street, getting away from the restaurant. “I’m sorry about the ambush,” you giggle, “She’s a bit of a whirlwind but she’s my best friend, I can’t deny her anything.”

“She seems like a good friend, looking out for you,” he smiles.

“Yeah, always.” You tug lightly at him, making him stop as you turn, looking up at him. “Hi,” you whisper and his arms wrap around your waist.

“Hi,” he mumbles, dropping his head to your forehead, his eyes warm and soft. He stays still for a few beats but when you reach up for his lips he almost makes you stumble back with how fiercely he kisses you. His arms come up along your back, pulling you in as his tongue frantically licks into your mouth and you moan against him, his fevered advance making your body ache. A few moments pass, his body hard against your own as he seems to need to pull you as close as possible, his hot breath over your skin as he kisses you acutely. Only the loud whoop from across the street makes you break apart.

“You’re so gorgeous in that dress, hermosa,” he murmurs as he reluctantly pulls back, letting his eyes slide over the black wrap dress and down your legs on display. “You’re always gorgeous but that dress on you…” he trails off, his hands slipping from your waist, down over your hips. His eyes are dark and you feel your own need mirrored in them as he looks up at you again.

Eventually he takes your hand and starts walking again, “About that drink, yeah?”

You nod and let your breath slip out, slowly exhaling to calm your nerves, squeezing his hand tightly.

…

The night is a disaster. As you let the door to your place slam shut behind you, you slip down to the floor, tugging your heels off as hot tears start welling up. All you can see when you squeeze your eyes shut is Frankie’s furious face as he slammed the man against the wall, the dull thump of his fist against his face, the blood pouring from the battered nose. Sweet, shy Frankie suddenly dealing out violence, dropping the man with two swift punches and then turning back to you, taking hold of your arms, his knuckles still coated in blood, another man’s blood.

You’d barely heard him as he tried to make sure you were ok. It had been nothing. The man had groped you as you left the ladies, you’d slapped his hand away and he’d grabbed your arm, pulling you around with a leer. Frankie had appeared at your side out of nowhere, the man slumping on the floor a moment later. But it was Frankie’s transformation that scared you, his face had been furious, but as the punches fell it was cold, emotionless, and he didn’t even flinch as blood spluttered from the man’s broken nose. When he took hold of your arms, looking down at you, he had blood on his shirt and you couldn’t look away from it. Frankie’s face was still impassive, only a slight frown, as he asked you again if you were hurt. You stared back at him, pulling your eyes away from the blood, it was on his skin too. Suddenly, severely aware of how little you knew Frankie, you pulled away from him, scared of the man in front of you, of the violence he’d shown.

Who could be that violent?

Who would punch a man so hard he didn’t get up again?

You’d stammered something, telling him you needed to think, to not follow you, seeing the shock on Frankie’s face turn to despair as you backed away, his hands still on your arms, slowly letting go. Turning your back on him you heard him speak your name but you ignored it, the adrenaline in your system was spiking, making your hands shake and your legs move quickly.

You hold it together in the Uber home but now you’re on the floor of your hallway, sobbing at the unfairness of everything.

Chapter 4

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