How to love

nine: Queen B

Frankie's point of view:

"Tell me again how many of these people are family?"

I laugh at Jason's comment. Sitting in the tightly packed living room, I smile widely at his uncomfortable squirm as people banged against his shoulder or bumped into his back. Finally darting into the nearest corner with the wonky stools that were pulled from the back of Paul's garage, he sits as stiff as a board and refuses to move, to afraid of being sucked into the sea of my loud relatives.

I hum, glancing around the room. "Probably about sixty percent. My dad is one of eight, my mom was one of six. Each of those has the minimum of three kids, then some of their kids have kids. Paul is one of four but he only has two aunts which I'm sure he is very grateful for when it comes to get-together's like this." I explain to him. "Then the rest is friends of Flo and Paul's, or my dad's."

"Christmas must be expensive."

I laugh then suddenly gasp, my hands shooting out and grasping quickly onto Jason's shoulders whose hands instinctively clench around my waist to steady me. My wide eyes find his and for a second, I couldn't hear The Time Warp song from The Rocky Horror Show play behind us.

"Oops!" I hear the shriek. My back was wet and I scramble back to stand, my hips immediately feeling cold without Jason's touch. "I'm so sorry, Francesca!"

I grit my teeth, feeling the muscles clench within my chest. She has a hand over her heart, a pout on her bright red lips and her head tilted. She was dressed as the Queen of Hearts even though, she didn't have a heart of her own.

"It's Frankie." I growl lowly. I can feel Jason rise from the stool and stand behind me, the heat that radiated from his body sending signals of a sudden protection.

Cousin Jane and I never seen eye to eye. She was eight months older, and belonged to my dad's sister - Aunt May, who was just as catty as her overbearing daughter. From we were teenagers, Jane believed she was Queen B and acted like the world owed her something. In school, she was the stereotypical bitchy cheerleader and in college she became the hottest gossip after having an affair with our forty-one year old professor.

"Oh Frankie, where are your manners?" She gasped dramatically. She pushes me by the shoulder, sending me stumbling towards the side of the couch before I was grasped just in time. Jason's hand was warm and very strong, almost like he was trying to telepathically send me calming vibes through a simple touch. Jane's hand thrusts out in front of me, a beaming grin on her lips. "I'm Jane, Frankie's older and more experienced cousin. You are?"

"Jason." He answers, shaking her hand limply. I knew he was being polite just by his hand shake, and it almost made me smirk.

"I didn't know our little ol' Frankie here had a boyfriend! Especially not Mr Jason Hayes! Who knew you could bag a boyfriend never mind New York's most eligible bachelor. " She squeaks. Her smile was fake, but she held it.

I narrow my eyes at her, my nostrils flaring in annoyance but I can still feel Jason's close presence. "Not that it is any of your business, Jason isn-"

"Isn't willing to speak of our relationship, thank you." He interjects quickly and suddenly, he was pressed against me. My breath gets tangled in my throat, almost making me choke aloud. From the exposed bit of skin that was caused by the shrunk t-shirt, I can feel the velvet of his waistcoat. His chin knocks against the back of my head and without warning, his fingers curl around mine which hung by my side. "I'm a very private person. I hope you can respect that."

Her grin quickly curls into a scowl as she rolls her eyes down to our interlocked hands. She clears her throat, turning her lips back up to a fabricated smile. "Very well. Strange though, little Frankie here has never been a private person. In fact, her last and only relationship, was definitely not private."