Chapter 14
Millie
Fucking Kyle. Maggie’s is supposed to be a safe place. He doesn’t live or work near here. So why the hell was he so close? There are plenty
of coffee shops on his side of town. But instead, he shows up at my favorite place and derails my entire day.
My anger must be palpable because Micah steps in front of me, his sturdy shoulders towering over mine before he stoops to
meet my eyes.
He’s built like a solid brick wall, and I could probably punch him and he wouldn’t even flinch. But he’s like Ferdinand the
Bull—intimidating on the outside and a soft, gooey cinnamon roll on the inside.
“Can I take these babies from you?” He gently removes my clenched fingers from today’s shipment of butterfly chrysalises.
Once they’re safely in his hands, he breathes a sigh of relief. He sets the tray on a cart before guiding me over to the bench
against the lab’s wall. “What’s wrong? Steam is practically blowing from your ears.”
With a weary sigh, I tell him everything that took place this morning while he listens, covering my hand with his when I start
picking at my nails anxiously.
“Wow, Mills. That’s a lot to go through before eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I know,” I groan, leaning my cheek on his arm. “The universe really said, ‘You think you’re doing okay? Try this.’”
He chuckles softly and nods. “Finn is right, you know? Kyle deserves absolutely nothing from you.”
The events of this morning have had my relationship with Kyle playing on a loop in my head. Being with him was like a strangling
fog that I couldn’t find my way out of. I was searching for lights or people or anything to guide my way, but he was shielding
my eyes the whole time. I had to blindly crawl my way out and hope I’d find solid ground under me once the fog cleared.
“I need a distraction,” I say, lifting my head. “Let’s have a game night tonight.”
“I’m in.” He smiles. “I’ll text Emil.”
***
Oaks Folks
Mom: Got an email that Christmas pajamas are on sale. I chose my two favorites. You all can vote on your choice for this year’s
family Christmas pajamas.
Tess: It’s summer.
Mom: Hence why they’re on sale.
Dad: No onesies this year. I’m too old to get in and out of those.
Mom: Okay, here are pictures of the options. Christmas cookies that say “Let’s Get Baked” or dancing turtles dressed as Santa.
Fabes: Mom. Let’s Get Baked? Really?
Mom: What? Look how cute the cookies are.
Tess: Somebody else tell her.
Dad: I vote turtles.
Millie: Getting baked refers to being under the influence of something, most likely weed, Mom.
Fabes: I vote Let’s Get Baked.
Tess: Same.
Mom: I didn’t know that. Not those.
Mom: Here’s a picture of another option: light blue with candy canes.
Fabes: MOM. Zoom in on those candy canes.
Dad: Those aren’t candy canes, honey. They’re dicks.
Fabes:
Millie: Honestly, Mom. What website are you on?
Tess: I still vote for Let’s Get Baked.
***
“Em, can you hand me that vodka?” Micah waves from the corner of my kitchen, eyes focused on the tumblers in front of him
while he mixes the drinks for game night.
Emil grabs the bottle and holds it behind his back with his lips puckered toward Micah. “Payment, please.”
Micah leaves his position in front of the counter to reach his arm around Emil, dip him back, and kiss him as he steals the
bottle.
“Thanks, love,” he murmurs before he turns to fill the tumblers.
Emil lifts a hand to fan his face.
“Damn. I need a boyfriend,” I mutter into my cranberry vodka. The charcuterie board I’ve put together is not as flawless as
I’ve seen on the internet, but it’s about to get destroyed by all of us anyway. It’s hard to make it look perfect when everyone
keeps sneaking off with grapes and cheese.
Lena sits at the dining table, whispering to a new game-night attendee next to her. Diego is an intern at the community center
where Lena works this summer and is here through an exchange program from Spain. His brown eyes stare into Lena’s, completely
enthralled by whatever she’s saying.
“Which game are we playing first?” Micah calls through the house.
“Anything but Scrabble,” Lena proclaims.
Emil smiles brightly. “I’m always up for kicking your asses at Scrabble.” As a literature professor, he wipes the floor with us every time. We have a three-year-old’s vocabulary compared to him.
I pick up my phone where it’s charging in the kitchen, and my shoulders slump when I see Finn hasn’t answered the text I sent
him this afternoon.
Mille: I know it’s late notice, but we’re having a game night if you and the girls want to come. We are starting around six, and
we have pizza, snacks, and drinks. Here’s our address in case you can make it.
Chills snake down my spine every time I think about his lips brushing my ear this morning. The warm assurance of his strong
hand along my back while his body surrounded mine, keeping me safe. The rumble of his deep voice coasting over my skin.
As much as I want to melt into the memories of Finn, I’m still adamantly trying to avoid those exact kinds of thoughts about
him. I try to remind myself every day that things can’t get any more complicated with him. I’ve toed the line of appropriateness
for weeks now, but I’ve never crossed it.
And I have managed to snuff out the urge to talk about my job with him, but the words still burn on the tip of my tongue.
How was my interview?
Can you tell me anything about the other applicant?
What can I do better next time?
Micah calls from the table that it’s time to start, shaking me from my thoughts of Finn, and I abandon my phone to join the
game of Clue.
***
“Knew it,” I whoop in victory, slamming the cards down and smiling as I look around the table of losers. “Colonel Mustard,
you tricky bastard.”
Lena tosses her cards and crosses her arms. “Emil, look at her paper. What is she writing down?”
I snatch up my secret weapon before anyone can see the notes. “You’ll never know,” I yell, running to the trash and tearing
the paper into tiny pieces.
A soft knock rattles against the door, and once the last bit of evidence floats safely into the trash can, I walk to answer
it. I expect it to be the pizza guy, but when I open the door, Finn, Avery, and Eloise stand atop our Come Back With Tacos
doormat.
“We didn’t know about the taco rule.” Finn winces.
“That’s okay. Friends are the exception.” Embarrassment colors my cheeks at how massive my smile is, but I can’t seem to contain
it. I crouch to hug Ave and El. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Is it still okay that we came?” Finn’s brows pull together as I stand, and I want to smooth my fingers over the crease to
relax them.
“Absolutely. Come in!” I cheer, bringing the girls into the living room.
Finn runs his fingers through his hair and clears his throat. “Sorry we’re late. I wanted to stop and get some snacks and
drinks.” He sets a canvas bag on the counter and starts pulling things out of it. Goldfish, a bottle of wine, fruit snacks,
oranges, vanilla wafers, and granola bars. He places them in a neat line and shrugs. “I let Ave and El pick out most of it.”
“It’s perfect.” I pat his arm before I can stop myself. My brain seems to be stuck on a record scratch after this morning,
where all it does is repeat, “Touch him, touch him, touch him.”
Micah walks into the kitchen, shakes Finn’s hand, and helps get bowls for the snacks, while I take Finn to make introductions. The girls are already sitting on the ground with Lena, diving into the Legos.
Emil stands and pats Finn on the shoulder. “Nice to meet you. Good thing you showed up. We’re about to start Catan, and Micah
always destroys us. We need a new competitor.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Finn chuckles, pulling pieces out of the box to help us set up.
Micah places a few bowls of snacks on the coffee table before he sits beside Diego to teach him how to play.
Pepper’s nails click on the wood floors as she shuffles down the hallway, finally up from her nap in my bed.
“Finn?” I lean closer from the seat next to him. “How are the girls with dogs? Pepper’s an old lady, and she’s great with
kids, but if they don’t like dogs, I can put her up.”
His lips tip up as he looks my way. “They love dogs. They’ve been begging for one for months. I’ll have to double-check my
car before we leave to make sure they didn’t sneak her in there.”
“Honestly, she would love that.”
I call her over, and she sits right between us, immediately dropping her muzzle into Finn’s lap.
The little traitor.
He cups her face. “Pepper. It’s very nice to meet you.” He smooths a hand over her back. “Such a soft pup.” Her tail thumps
against the ground while she looks up at him with complete adoration, a perfect depiction of the heart-eyes emoji. He kisses
the top of her head. “What a good girl,” he coos at her.
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Am I jealous of my dog right now? Have I stooped that low?
Damn it.
Standing, I pat her side and nudge her toward the living room. “Let’s go meet the girls.”
Avery’s and Eloise’s eyes light up when they see her. She sniffs their faces and makes herself comfortable between them, rolling over and arching her back for belly rubs.
Once the pizza arrives, we eat around our game of Catan. The laughter and banter at the table have distracted me from realizing
that Finn is a few points ahead of everyone else, but then he sets his final piece down with a sturdy thud and announces he’s
won.
A collective gasp fills the room.
“No way,” Micah says, scanning the board and tracking the scores. Finn flips over three cards in front of him, revealing his
extra points. “Well, damn. Good job.” He claps Finn on the shoulder.
“So, Spock.” I nudge him with my elbow as he helps put his pieces away. “Seems you’ve played this game before.”
He adjusts his glasses before turning to me with a raised eyebrow. “Spock? Really?” he asks, his stern voice making me grin.
“I like it.” I shrug.
Finn wears a playful scowl as he says, “Well, Cookie, if you must know, I was the Catan champion for Wilhelmina University.
I held the title all four years of undergrad.”
His use of my so-called stripper name sends a bubbly thrill up my spine. “Is that a real thing?”
A pink flush creeps up his cheeks as he says, “I take board games very seriously. I’d never lie about that.”
“You mean to tell me I thought you were here on the Nerd Scale.” I hold my hand flat just above the table. “But you’re actually here .” I stand and put my arm up as high as I can.
Finn laughs and shakes his head. “I could tell you things that would make my rating even higher.”
I lean my elbow on his broad shoulder. “Oh, do tell.”
He’s so deliciously tall that, in this position, our eyes are almost level. His are like the dark blue sky that lingers before
sunrise. His hair is in disheveled waves, and I wish I could run my fingers through it.
“I have to keep some secrets,” he says softly, his voice like velvet on my skin as his eyes connect with mine. My pulse skitters, and the air
between us settles hot and heady.
When Finn and I lock eyes like this, I have the dizzying feeling that I’m lost and home all at once. I’m in unfamiliar territory
and yet completely safe.
I realize the game cleanup has paused, and I drag my attention away from Finn to find everyone staring at us. Lena wears a
satisfied smirk like she knows exactly what’s going on in my head.
Diego looks between us quizzically. “This”—he points to Finn—“is your... boyfriend, Millie?” he questions with his strong
Spanish accent.
Chills flash over my heated body. I drop into my seat with a falsely bright smile. “Oh, no, just friends.” I shake my head
incredulously. “Not together at all. Gosh, nowhere near anything like that. Like, we could never be!”
Surely I can make it true if I keep saying it. I can put us back on the safe side of that line I was sticking an arm over.
I can remind myself we are just friends .
I glance over at Finn, finding him biting his lips between his teeth to suppress his smile.
Lena shakes her head with a delighted grin, and Micah won’t make eye contact with me, his hand covering his mouth and cheeks.
Emil snickers into his cranberry vodka.
Their expressions register, and my throat dries. It seems that after everything I just said, my best friends are acting like
I just declared that he is my boyfriend.
My pulse pounds so loudly I can hear it booming through my body.
It feels like I just revealed every perfect thought I’ve ever had about Finn. I don’t know where I went wrong, but I need
to put it all back and undo it.
The first thing I think of blurts from my lips.
“I have a date on Saturday.”
Finn’s head snaps in my direction, dark eyes searching my face. He wears his trademark Finn scowl that used to be the only
expression I got from him, and my breath stalls in my lungs.
“With... Finn?” Diego asks.
I bark a laugh to cover my tracks. “No. Not with Finn. Someone else.”
Shit. Shit. Shit . I don’t want to dig this hole deeper, but my mouth keeps moving before my mind can catch up.
Lena puts her chin on her hand and blinks at me across the table. “Who do you have a date with?”
“Someone I met. You weren’t there.” I cringe deep inside my brain.
A low rumble creeps from Finn’s chest, but I try my best to ignore him as I announce, “We’re going to Nacho Mama’s.”
Lena folds her arms over her chest and leans back in her seat casually. “How wild is that? I have a date there Saturday too.”
Her smile is full of mischievous danger.
My expression is as casual as I can muster in light of the lies I’m drowning in. “Perfect. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
Finn abruptly shoves his chair back with a loud scrape and trudges to the kitchen, muttering something under his breath.
Lena meets my eyes across the table and winks.