Chapter 7: Chapter 7

FRANCESCA

For the next thirteen days, I manage to dodge Leo. But the night before his wedding, I’m stuck at the hotel where the wedding is taking place, along with the rest of the “boys.”

Beth had a blast at her bachelorette party, which I was glad about.

She’s clueless about Leo and me. Part of me feels awful for keeping this secret, but I can’t bring myself to shatter Beth’s happiness.

I’ve also been successful in avoiding Christian. I can’t figure him out. I don’t know what he wants from me, or what I feel when I’m near him.

There’s a knock on my hotel suite door, and I ignore it. The knocking continues for another two minutes before I hear the lock beep and the door swings open.

“You’re avoiding me,” Leo says, plopping down on my bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Master key,” he says, waving a swipe card. “I own the hotel, Frankie.”

“Go bother someone else.”

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Cheer. You said you love me.” Leo looks at me with such pity that I wish I could just disappear.

I’m relieved when Christian walks into my room, interrupting my conversation with Leo.

“There you are.” Christian greets Leo with a friendly slap on the back. “Francesca.” He nods at me. “Can I borrow Leo?”

“Take him,” I say, forcing a smile.

“Cheer, I—”

“Go.” I cut Leo off, not wanting to hear his voice right now.

“You should get dressed,” Christian says, and I realize I’ve been staring after Leo.

“What?”

“We’re having dinner, then going to the local casino.”

“We?”

“The groomsmen.”

“I’m a girl.”

“Trust me, kitten, I’ve noticed.” Christian smirks at me, and I let out a small laugh.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t make me drag you out of here, Francesca.”

His words don’t leave room for argument, but that doesn’t mean I move. With the seventh ~Harry Potter~ book in hand, I’m a rock.

I shouldn’t be surprised when Christian barges into my hotel room just as Bill and Fleur’s wedding is starting. I glance up at him briefly before diving back into my book.

“I don’t like repeating myself, kitten,” he growls from the doorway. I can feel his intense gaze on me.

“And I don’t like being pushed into things,” I reply, keeping my eyes glued to the page, although I’m not really reading anymore.

“I’m not pushing you…yet.”

I finally look up to see Christian crossing the room with a wicked smirk on his face.

“I’m not in the mood, Christian,” I mutter.

“Not in the mood to spend time with the love of your life before he gets married?” Christian chuckles, and I see red. I throw my beloved book across the room.

“Get lost, De Luca.”

“Frances—”

“I said get lost.” Before he can say anything else, I lock myself in the bathroom.

***

“Cheer?”

Leo’s voice comes from outside my door about two hours later. I don’t know if they actually went to dinner or not; they might have.

~I’m starving!~

“I brought bear claws,” Leo says, sounding sad. My stomach betrays me and growls.

I sit in silence, refusing to acknowledge him. No matter how hungry I am, my stubbornness won’t let me move.

“Please, Frankie. I need you. I want my best friend back.”

My heart aches as I hear him plead, but I stay silent.

“Remember junior year of high school when you dated George Thompson?”

Leo doesn’t wait for my answer.

“I think that’s when I realized I liked you. God, I hated that guy. He bragged every chance he got about how he was sleeping with Frankie Barton.”

~I never slept with George Thompson!~

“I know you didn’t sleep with him, but when he was in the locker room, bragging in front of the whole team, I couldn’t stand it.

“I threatened him. I got a few of the other guys from the team, and we scared him. I’ll never forget that night. I was so proud of myself until you came over.

“You stood on my porch, your hair a mess, tears streaming down your face, asking me over and over, ‘What’s wrong with me?’

“I hated myself for making you cry like that. You had been through so much with your mom, and I was so selfish. I was a jerk, Cheer, and I’m sorry.”

~You weren’t a jerk; you helped me through one of the toughest times in my life.~

“I was a jerk again more recently. It was six years ago. Just after your dad passed. I knew you were seeing a guy. I think his name was Dylan.

“I didn’t come to see you, not at the funeral or in New York. I just couldn’t bear to see you with anyone else.”

“Why are you telling me this?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“You’re my Cheer,” Leo says, and I can imagine him shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Don’t.”

“Please open the door, Frankie,” Leo pleads, and with a sigh, I stand, gripping the door handle.

The moment I step out of the bathroom, Leo’s arms are around me. He pulls me close, his chest firm against my back. “Should we talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Leo. You’re marrying Beth tomorrow. She’s amazing.”

“I’m sorry you saw—”

“That was the only time, right? The only time you cheated on her?”

His eyes flicker with an emotion I can’t quite place before he answers.

“Yes! God, yes. It won’t happen again.”

Christian appears behind Leo, his face unreadable. “The others are ready to go.”

“Cheer, will you join us for dinner?”

“Do I still get my bear claws?” I ask, eyeing the paper bag in Leo’s hand. He grins, handing it over. “Thanks, QB.”

Leo plants a kiss on my forehead, gives Christian a friendly pat on the back, and leaves the room. Christian turns to me, his expression something I’ve never seen on him before.

“I should apologize,” he says softly. “I was insensitive earlier. I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I cut him off, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “I should get ready. The boys are waiting.”

I don’t give Christian a chance to respond as I retreat back into the bathroom, dragging my duffle bag behind me.

I’ve missed Christian, even though I’ve been avoiding him. His presence in the room brings a sense of comfort.

But I’ve learned one thing during my time here: we come from two very different worlds.

Christian, like Leo, is used to the billionaire lifestyle. I, on the other hand, have weeks where I survive on instant noodles and saltine crackers.

I pull out a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs my curves and shows off my midriff.

I laugh at my reflection in the mirror, not because I look funny, but because I’m pretty sure my entire outfit cost less than twenty dollars. The jeans were a hand-me-down from Candy.

~I bet Christian wouldn’t be caught dead in an outfit that cost less than twenty dollars.~

I let my blonde hair fall over my shoulders, apply a light layer of makeup, and swipe on some lip gloss before stepping out of the bathroom. Christian is sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I wanted to—” Christian starts as I open the door, but stops mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing at my bare midriff. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes.” I can’t help but grin, remembering the conversation I had with myself in the bathroom.

“Change,” Christian growls, but I stand my ground, hands on my hips.

“No. The boys are waiting. Let’s go.” I move past him, heading for the door. He grabs my wrist, pulling me back against his chest.

“I won’t have other men ogling what’s mine,” he growls, and for a moment, I wonder if I heard him right.

~His?~

~Why does that feel so good to hear?~

I shake off the thoughts, my head scolding my heart. I look at him, eyes wide. He’s just in jeans and a button-up shirt, but it’s clear they cost more than most people would spend. His watch, his haircut, the expensive aftershave—he’s a walking billboard for wealth.

“Lucky I’m not yours then.”

CHRISTIAN

I want nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her face with a kiss.

She struts out of the room in those jeans that hug her in all the right places and that top…god, I’m hard just looking at her.

It leaves nothing to the imagination, showing off her full breasts and toned stomach.

~Does she even realize how beautiful she is?~

At first, I thought she’d be a fun fling, but now it’s more than that. She’s smart, funny, and stunningly beautiful. I can’t get enough of her. I know she’s been avoiding me, and it’s been hell. I want to protect her, to possess her, to…love her.

~Damn, I’ve got it bad.~

I don’t know how I make it through dinner, let alone how I manage to get a tipsy Francesca back to her hotel room.

***

After several cold showers and a restless night, I find myself standing at the altar in the grand ballroom of the QB Grand Hotel.

“Why are you sweating?” Leo asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“You look like crap. I’m the one getting married, and you’re the one sweating bullets.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Did you get lucky after you dropped Cheer off?”

“What? No!”

“Okay, I’m here.” Francesca joins us at the end of the aisle, panting slightly. I tense at the sight of her.

Her navy dress matches our suits, and she’s glowing. The flower we’re wearing on our lapels is on a corsage on her wrist. She’s elegant, stunning.

“You look beautiful, Cheer.”

“Thanks, QB.” Francesca’s smile lights up the room as she kisses his cheek. “I just left your bride. She looks breathtaking.”

Leo smiles as Francesca turns to me. She greets me with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. I breathe her in while she’s close.

“What’s up with you?” she asks, stepping back with a puzzled look.

“Chris had a big night. Got lucky after he dropped you off.”

I’ve never wanted to punch Leo more than in this moment. Francesca’s face goes blank as she processes his words.

“Oh.”

The celebrant comes over to talk to Leo, leaving me alone with an obviously annoyed Francesca.

“You look incredible,” I say in a low voice. She looks at me with that blank expression, but I see a faint blush creep onto her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and I can’t help but lift my eyebrows at her use of Italian.

“You’re full of surprises, kitten,” I respond in Italian, and she gives me a sheepish smile.

“Yeah...I didn’t catch that. I only took Italian for half a semester during my sophomore year at NYU.”

“Half a semester?” I ask, a smile playing on my lips.

~There’s so much about her I want to know.~

“They kicked me out. I was terrible. But I did manage to learn a few basics.”

“Like?”

“Like how to say thank you,” she replies, her laughter infectious, and I find myself laughing along with her.

“The jet is scheduled to leave around three in the morning.”

“Jet?”

“My private jet. Leo set it up so you could fly back with me.”

“Ah...” Francesca nods, her expression unreadable. I want to ask her what’s on her mind, but I don’t get the chance.

“Are you guys ready?” Leo interrupts, taking his place in front of the celebrant as the wedding march begins to play.