Page 67 of Winning You
“Yes, pr—” Frankie started before stopping himself. His brothers didn’t seem to catch on, but Lucas’s ears turned bright pink. “I think I can do that.”
Fallon grimaced. “I think I should help. Last time, you forgot to wash the leaves, and there were little bugs in it.”
“That’s…true,” Frankie said, deflated. He had missed that step.
Lucas twisted to the side without disturbing Elodie’s place on his lap and got his keys out of his pocket. “Just put everything back where you got it, and don’t get annoyed if you miss something and I have to call you to figure it out.”
Frankie took the keys and fought off the very real, very profound urge to lean over and kiss him. “Back in a few.”
He started out the door with Fallon at his heels as Fenton gave him one last look, then got up to get the book from Elodie’s bag.
The door closed with a click, and neither brother said anything until they got to Lucas’s apartment. It was as tidy as ever. The blanket nest was now gone, all the cushions and throw pillows back on the couch, and the dishes from dinner had all been done and put away.
He felt a little bad, though he knew Lucas would have insisted on doing it himself since Frankie was unfamiliar with the layout of his kitchen. Even now, he was sweating a little about not getting everything put away correctly.
“Relax,” Fallon said. “I can remember where it all goes.”
He didn’t have an eidetic memory, but it was pretty close. Frankie had relied on him a lot when Fallon and Fenton were little because the stress of taking on parental responsibility took up space in his head where organization should have gone.
He walked to the fridge and opened it, staring around before snagging lettuce, a small container of shredded carrots, some sliced radishes, and a block of cheese.
“Will this work?”
“Onions,” Fallon said. “On the side. I don’t like them.”
Frankie found a small container of shredded red onions as well, then a jar of deep purple Greek olives. “Yes?”
“Mm.” Fallon nodded as he slipped into the chair, and his gaze fixed on the sink. “Wash the lettuce.”
“Yes, yes. I won’t forget that step again.”
Fallon bowed his head. “I know I’m fussy?—”
“No,” Frankie said softly as he began to pull lettuce leaves away from the head. They had a satisfying crack to them, they were so fresh. “You’re not fussy. No one wants bugs in their food. I’m just bad at this sometimes.”
God, would he ever be good enough for Lucas, who needed someone more put together than him? He wouldn’t be able to take it if he’d forgotten to wash lettuce and served Lucas something with bugs in it and he wasn’t able to see it for himself.
He took in a slightly tense breath.
“Are you angry at Fenton?”
Frankie looked up at his brother. “What did he do?”
“He was making faces and mouthing stuff that Lucas couldn’t see. You looked angry.”
“Ah.” He washed and rinsed the leaves before he spoke again, setting them on a paper towel to dry. “It wasn’t kind. But I didn’t want to embarrass Lucas by bringing it up.”
“I would want to know,” Fallon said. “You need to ask him if he wants to know.”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. That was only fair. He hunted for a knife, then snagged a cutting board and began to chop. “And you? Are you doing okay?”
Fallon swallowed heavily and said nothing for a long, long while. When Frankie was sure his question had shut his brother down, Fallon cleared his throat. “I feel stupid.”
“Fallon—”
“I know you hate that word. I know I shouldn’t say it about myself or about anyone. But I can’t help it. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so stuck in my routine. I wish that it didn’t hurt inside to make big changes. Or maybe if I was braver, I wouldn’t have stayed so long.”
Frankie felt like something in his chest was cracking in half. He set the knife down and walked around the counter, stepping close to his brother without touching him. “Hug or no hug?”
