Page 35 of The Ex Effect (Meet Cute in Minnesota #1)

TWENTY-TWO

MORGAN

Fucking chickens.

I handed the last clucking one back to the grateful farmer and swiped my grimy palms down my capris.

Filthy . My outfit was probably ruined unless I got home within the next five minutes and dumped a gallon of OxiClean on it.

This event might be one of the top ten, maybe even top five, craziest things that have happened to me.

Two arms caught me from the back, whipped me around, and engulfed me in a hug.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

Whoa . The frantic tone in Frankie’s voice caught me off guard. Frankie held my shoulders, her eyes trailing every inch of me as if she was inspecting to confirm that I was, in fact, okay.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I looked down at my clothes. I plucked a few feathers off, then gave up completely. “Filthy, though. Gross.”

Frankie’s eyes folded in concern, her firm grip still holding me. “Your face…your hair. It’s so bad… You look so bad…” She nibbled on her lip, her forehead creasing.

“What every woman in the word wants to hear: You look like shit. Thanks for that.” I smiled, even though my body was on active alert.

The tiniest crack of smile teased at Frankie’s mouth. “I was at Delilah’s shop, and this man Dave came in and said there was an accident on Superior Road and you live here and I was freaking out…and shit . Are you sure you’re okay? What the hell happened?”

When I left my house an hour ago, which now felt like five days ago, I trailed a trailer-truck as it jerked down the road at the speed of a sloth.

Road-rager was never a word I would use to describe myself while driving.

I was more…road-irritated. But this guy was over the top and I knew I had to get to Delilah’s.

On the single-lane road, I would’ve passed the guy, but it was a no passing zone, and I wasn’t going to risk get smooshed in my little sedan.

But that didn’t stop the guy behind me from doing it.

The truck swerved sharply, the trailer tipped over, a car rear-ended the truck, and, well, the chickens broke free.

The panicked farmer and his wife ran around screaming, trying to scoop the chickens back into their cages. After I checked everyone was okay, I grabbed a blanket and chased after the chickens alongside the farmers.

Frankie’s hand dropped from my shoulders . Put them back . The adrenaline coursing through me had my hands trembling something fierce, and Frankie was just so… sturdy . Not that I couldn’t handle it, of course…

“You’re shaking.” Frankie grabbed my hand and escorted me to a patch of grass away from the chaos. “Let’s take a seat.”

I normally would have thought twice about sitting on the side of the dirty road, but at this point, I had so much muck on me that it didn’t matter.

I lowered myself to the ground and rubbed my temples.

Having Frankie here with me this summer allowed me to do twice as much wedding prep as normal.

But that was also cut in half with the unforeseen barn renovations.

We still had so much to do, and moments like this—wasting hours on stuff that had nothing to do with the wedding—cut into the precious moments we had left to execute this day to perfection.

“The flowers ,” I whimpered. The wedding had a ton of important items, of course, but this rated pretty high on the list. “I need to call Delilah and reschedule. Maybe this afternoon or tomorrow? But the electrician is finishing the wiring tomorrow, but maybe Sam can be there? Ugh. I forgot—Sam needs to go to the other job site, but maybe he can stop by first? I don’t know, though.

The electrician gave us a time-frame, and you know?—”

“Hey.” Frankie’s voice was low, soothing, as her fingertips stroked my arm.

“We can figure this out later. Delilah was there when we heard about the accident. I’m sure she’ll work with you to reschedule.

I took some pics of the flowers and Delilah already had some great ideas.

We can manage this. For now, let’s head back to your place and get you cleaned up, then figure out next steps. ”

She was probably right. I wouldn’t go into town looking as dirty as I was, and if Delilah was fine with rescheduling, the best thing would be to clean myself up and work on things I could manage from home.

“Okay, I’ll head home and call you later.

Maybe I’ll finish up the childhood photo stands and get those packed up. ”

Frankie shook her head. “If you think I’m leaving your side right now, you’re insane.”

Damn my insides turning warm at those words.

After I slipped into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, I could finally inspect the scratches all over my arms. Thankfully, they were only surface level and no blood, but enough covered me where my skin flamed pink.

I slathered anti-bacterial ointment on myself just in case and moved into the living room where Frankie was sitting, focused on her phone.

When Frankie’s eyes shifted from her screen to me, her gaze dipped and slowly inched up my body and dammit .

I felt that look. I really needed to ignore that look, but I couldn’t.

I wasn’t an expert at reading body language, but it seemed pretty obvious to me that Frankie, at least physically, wanted the same thing as me.

Instead of indulging in the idea, I moved into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of grapes and two lemonades.

When I returned and scooted next to her, an entirely new look replaced Frankie’s face. Knitted brows, a slight frown, and heavy sighs.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

“Like what?”

I plucked off a grape and rolled it in my fingers.

“Like you’re worried I’m going to keel over or something.

You know I wasn’t hit in the accident, right?

The scratches and bruises are because I lost a serious fight with some feathered friends.

” I meant to lighten the mood, but Frankie almost looked like she was going to cry. Sure, terrible joke but come on .

Frankie stared at her hands, rubbing each fingertip with her index finger. “I just can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”

“Aww.” I crunched on a grape and grinned . “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“I never stopped caring.”

Wow. Frankie’s tone was filled with so much intention and sincerity that I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do with that. I slowly swallowed the fruit as the silence grew.

Maybe it was the drama of what happened, or the acknowledgment that I had limited time left with Frankie, or a desperate, desperate need to conclude the past. But something in me propelled me to say, “You never cared enough to stay. ”

I didn’t want to hear that I was right. I wanted Frankie to break down and say she regretted leaving and that she had never stopped thinking about me over the years, and if she had to do it over again, she would’ve never left.

Yes, Frankie leaving destroyed me back then, but I really did get over it.

Over the years, I had numerous relationships, built my business, and went months, perhaps years, without thinking of her.

But I can’t say that it didn’t affect me—that my first great love not loving me enough to stay didn’t still burn a hole inside my heart.

Frankie’s chest lifted and then dropped with a heavy exhale. For a moment, it seemed like Frankie might storm out. Instead, she shifted closer. “That’s not true.”

I stared out my front window and watched a squirrel run up a tree trunk.

Now was the time, but how do you tell someone everything you’ve kept bottled up for years?

How could I put into words how this affected me and get closure from something that happened fifteen years ago? “You broke my heart when you left.”

There was a crack in my voice that I didn’t appreciate, but the words were true. Frankie gutted me when she left.

“You broke mine when you wouldn’t go with me,” Frankie said through a sigh.

My heart squeezed, and I blinked back tears.

Frankie propped an elbow on the couch’s back and rested her head in her hand.

“I thought for sure you would. I thought you would take a chance, for once in your life, and do something spontaneous. College would always be there, but we had a real chance to get out, to make this other life for us, to try something different. And when you wouldn’t come with, I just…

Everything crashed.” Frankie paused, staring into my eyes.

“It felt like your life plan was more important than my life plan, and…it just killed me. I never stopped thinking about you. That first year, I picked up the phone a million times to call you. I missed my girlfriend. I missed my friend. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. ”

Oof . That never occurred to me. I just assumed since Frankie left, she hurt less. She left for this fabulous new life in an amazing city, and I shifted into an afterthought.

So many moments passed, my stomach dropping by the second. “Do you ever regret leaving?”

A soft sad grin tugged at Frankie’s mouth. “There’s a ton of things I regret. I regret the way I left things with you, that I let my stubbornness take the better of me, and that I never reached out to you.” Frankie exhaled. “But no. I don’t regret leaving.”

Those words were not harsh, but they hit in the realest way possible. Frankie didn’t regret leaving me or moving to New York. Which means, given the same opportunity, she’d do it again. My insides burned with the words, but it was also what I needed to hear.

“Do you ever regret not coming with?” Frankie asked, her eyebrows pinched.

Like Frankie, I had a lot of regrets—allowing our friendship to die along with our relationship and letting anger prevent me from reaching out as well. But staying? That was always the right move. I was never meant to live anywhere else. “No. I don’t regret staying. This will always be my home.”

I lobbed the words softly like a feather and yet they carried the weight of a boulder.

And there it was. Neither of us regretted our decision. And there wasn’t much more I could do with that. Did I regret the way things ended with Frankie? Yes. But regrets only take you so far. And Frankie was truthful and honest, and I needed to hear it.

Frankie’s gaze focused on the couch cushion between us, and her thumb grazed the material. “It took me years to get over you.”

Dammit. God, I didn’t want to hear this and I also did, and it hurt as much as it felt good.

There was no use in playing the “what if” game at this point in our life.

We both made the best decision for ourselves, and neither of us regretted our choices.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think I ever fully got over you. ”

Frankie stared hard at me, her eyes unmoving and focused.

They dropped, slowly, looked at my lips, back to my eyes, then back to my mouth.

She inched forward and closed the gap between us.

She pressed her mouth into me, softly at first. I jerked only for a moment from the shock of the touch.

When Frankie pulled back, I moved in, pressing my lips back into Frankie, the sweetness of the grapes and lemonade dancing across my lips, my tongue.

God, this was so familiar and unfamiliar and heavenly.

Frankie cupped my neck, her thumbs swiping my cheeks, firm and sturdy, yet delicate somehow, and my breath hitched.

She parted my lips with her tongue. My heartbeat kicked up again, thudded in my chest, in my throat, and my body started tingling.

I grabbed Frankie around the waist, held her tight, my mouth moving against hers, when Frankie stopped.

It was like a Band-Aid was ripped off, the worst kind, and I immediately wanted Frankie’s mouth back on mine.

“Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry, I don’t… I can’t believe I did that.” Frankie leaped off the couch and dragged her hands down her face. She grabbed her keys from the coffee table and rushed to the door.

Please don’t go . “Wait, no, it’s fine. It’s good.

” I hopped off the couch and rushed to Frankie.

I gripped her forearm before she reached the door handle.

When Frankie turned the knob, I squeezed tighter.

“Please…I.” God, just do it. Be vulnerable.

Tell her how I feel. I lifted my chin, begging to have Frankie’s lips against mine. “I really don’t want you to go.”

Frankie looked like she was going to break down. Her dark eyes widened, a look of regret washed over her face. The saddest, heartbreaking half smile appeared. She stroked my cheek with her thumb. “I really don’t want to go, either. Which is exactly why I need to.”

And even though I hated it, I knew Frankie was right. When the motorcycle kicked on, and faded into the distance, I flopped myself on the couch and cried.