Page 110 of Rules, Roses, and Rivals
“This isn't pressure,” he added quickly. “You don’t owe me anything. I just… I wanted to show you I’m still here. And if you want a date for homecoming, I’d be lucky as hell if it was me.”
The rose trembled slightly in his hand.
I took it. Carefully.
“Jake…” I found my voice. “The roses?”
“I wish.” His smile was bittersweet. “But they made you smile and whoever is doing it seemed to have more of a clue than I do. I wanted you to smile so—” He motioned to the rose. The slight trembling in his hand was still visible.
“Thank you.” I managed to push the words out past the lump in my throat. “I do love it.” I smiled. “See—it worked.”
Jake gave a single nod. Not confident. Not cocky. Just… honest.
Then he turned and walked away.
No demands. No dramatics. Just a boy trying to unburn a bridge. He should be in AP Euro with me, but he was just—leaving.
I leaned against the wall and stared down at the rose. Then slid a hand into my pocket for the note Coop had given me earlier.
Four asks. Four very different boys.
Somehow, for the first time in weeks, the question wasn’twhoI’d say yes to.
It waswho I wanted to bewhen I said it.
It wasn’tuntil after school that I finally got to talk to Mathieu. He’d been too busy during third period with work for Madame to say more than a couple of words.
He found me in the hallway, right outside his last class of the day. With Mr. G out of the class and Jake absent, I dipped early to go find Mathieu. His smile buoyed me, the lack of tension in his relaxed expression helped to chase away some of my tension. The easy calm in his posture was… disarming. Like he wasn’t worried about what came next.
“Hey,” he said, stopping beside me. “Been trying to catch you all day.”
I gave a small smile. “It’s been a day.”
“Oui,” he said, the generous lilt of his accent kissed each word. “It looks like it.”
He didn’t say anything more right away, just walked with me a little until we hit the empty wing where the vending machines always ate people’s dollars and hope. That’s where we stopped.
“You talked to them?” he asked, not unkindly. “The guys?”
I nodded.
He tilted his head, like he could already see the gears turning in mine. “So who are you going to pick?”
That surprised me. Not the question. Just how gently he asked it. Like it didn’t cost him anything to say it out loud.
I turned to face him. “Were you going to ask me?”
He didn’t blink. “No.”
My stomach bottomed out. “Should I have asked you?”
His smile was soft. A little sad. “No, Frankie. You don’t need to.”
A pause stretched between us. The kind you don’t rush to fill.
“I adore you,” he said finally. “You know that. I think you’re—electric. But those guys? They’re waging this kind of… intimate war over your attention. And honestly? I’m not interested in stepping into the ring.”
Something tightened in my chest.
