“I’m good!” she chirps in response and I smirk at her happy demeanour.
When I pitched the idea of family flick night to her last night on the phone, she seemed shocked that I’d want to hang out with friends so soon. Then I told her I was prepared to meet her brothers any time, which I think really floored her. She keeps going on about how scary they are, but frankly, they are the least of my concerns.
Theo pulls out of the carport and drives us all through the dark streets of London like one big happy family. I peek down at Marisa, who has hold of my finger and is attempting to yank it into her mouth repeatedly. Her eyes are wide and curious as she takes in the flashing lights.
I glance up to find Vi watching me. She smirks. I smirk back. She licks her lips. I lick mine. As if we are being drawn together by some outside force, our heads lean into each other and our mouths connect in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you wanting more, but also completely satisfies everything inside of you like you’ve never had better.
Marisa’s sudden cry interrupts our tender moment. I pull back from Vi, laughing. “Don’t be jealous, Marisa. You’re still my number one girl.”
“Number one is it?” Vi tsks in mock offense, her grin still permanently in place.
“She’s my number one girl,” Theo objects from the front seat. Leslie’s hand reaches over and strokes his. “Tied for number one,” he adds curtly and cuts a heated squint at her that forces me to look away.
We arrive at Frank’s and waltz through the large purple door framed in climbing ivy. I’ve never been to Frank’s, but it somehow suits him. It’s a large, imposing home, but when you walk in, there’s an energy unlike any other.
Frank comes bounding out of the living room on our left. “The bloody Clarke’s are here…Hide the family jewels!”
Leslie’s eyes turn into saucers. “I believe it was my jewels that you always stole, Frank and Beans…along with my bedazzler.”
“Christ, Gingers sure can hold a grudge.” He glares meanly at her and then looks to my and Vi’s hands clasped together. He ropes his arm with Vi’s and pulls her away from me, leading her toward the dining room. His voice trails back into the foyer as he says, “Why, Vi. Hopped from Ethan to Hayden faster than you can say Frank’s your Uncle! I have to say, I’m impressed, dear girl.”
My face falls and I move forward quickly, but Theo stops me in my tracks with a hard hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be a fool, Hayden. It was a joke.” He gives me an annoying matey pat on the shoulder. “You’re better than that.”
Am I? I swallow hard, my clenched jaw rocking side to side in frustration. Just thinking about Ethan and Vi makes my blood boil. But fuck, Theo’s right. I know what Frank’s like, so why is it bothering me so much?
Finley and her husband Brody join us in the living room, both kitted out in their own footie pajamas. They sit cosily next to each other on the couch as Brody holds Marisa somewhat awkwardly and Finley looks so happy she might burst into tears. They’ve been married for about a year now, and Leslie has mentioned to me that children won’t be a part of their future. But watching them right now…I’m not sure they know it.
“I think we should do it now,” Finley says, looking up at Frank sneakily as he readies some snacks on the coffee table.
Frank’s eyes alight knowingly. “All right. Everyone remain calm. This is not a drill. We have a bit of a surprise for Marisa, so if you’ll all follow me.”
Finley passes Marisa back to Leslie, and I find myself so intrigued that I follow the group up the large staircase to the second floor. Frank stops in front of a closed bedroom door and turns back to us while dramatically coiffing his puffy red hair.
“This was my idea,” Frank starts.
“Bullshit! It was my idea!” Finley interjects, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. The two of them are wearing footie pajamas, looking like the biggest fools as they bicker over whose idea whatever it is we’re about to see was.
“Oi, all right, Fin-Bin. It was your idea, but you need to thank fuck I was around for the design process or you would have had it decked out in K-State University drivel.”
“Frank!” Finley cuts.
“Why don’t you guys just open the door,” Brody asks calmly. Seriously, Brody is a big, brawny, man-type of bloke and seeing him in that onesie is just…disturbing. Finley must have some serious pull over him to get him to wear one of those.