“I’m. Still. Talking. Francine.”
My words bite. Deep enough that she presses her lips together, holding back the smart remark behind her teeth.
I can feel it trying to escape.
“And secondly,” I continue with a smirk that I know looks rude, “you need someone who can handle that attitude you’ve developed. It’s becoming really disgusting.”
The green in her eyes? Gone. Meadows scorched. What’s left is straight rage—pure, pretty fucking rage.
“May I speak now?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“You may,” I allow.
She steps into my space.
Closer.
Closer still.
Until our noses brush. She has to get on her tiptoes, which should be cute but somehow just makes her terrifying because she wants to ensure I hear her next words.
“Fuck. You.” She spits.
My smile stretches from ear to ear. Knew she’d say that. That fucking attitude needs work.
But don’t worry, Jelly.
I’m already plotting on you.
“Alright, alright,” Zaza slides in with a hand on each of our chests. “Get out of each other’s faces.”
She tries to push us apart. Bless her. We’re both heavier than her and twice as stubborn, refusing to be the first to budge.
But ultimately, Frankie is the one to buckle.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Za announces, going full mum-mode. “I’m gonna shower this sweat off me. Jabari is gonna finish our table. And Frankie is gonna order the pizza.”
“And crack a window,” I add to piss her off. “The smoke in here might kill someone.”
She takes the bait so easily.
“Fuck you and suffocate slowly.” Shoulder checking me, she struts off to her room.
I don’t even flinch.
Hard to care when I’m busy enjoying the bounce of her arse under that moomoo.
Priorities.
“I’m sorry about that,” Za mutters as she runs to open the window herself. “She gets worked up easily.”
“I can tell.” I scoff, leaning on the counter like I wasn’t enjoying every bit of it. It’s weird, but part of me feels like Frankie enjoys it too.
“Well, you aren’t making it any better antagonising her like that.” Za’s voice dips into that disappointed auntie tone. I don’t even know who she expects more from but since I’m the bigger, more mature person, I’ll take responsibility for what is clearly Frankie’s shortcomings.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop picking fights with her.”
“Good.” She nods. “You two don’t have to be friends, but at least respect each other.”
