Chapter 22

Millie

A familiar ache beats between my thighs as I writhe and twist through soft sheets. Fingers move from the warm skin on my stomach,

down my hips, and over my leggings. My body melts into the feeling, and Finn’s familiar scent engulfs me. The pressure increases,

sliding smoothly over the thin fabric, and pleasure—

The distant sound of a door closing jolts me from sleep, and my eyes shoot open.

My hands burst out from under the covers, and I sit up to let my eyes adjust, baffled when I realize where I am. That’s Finn’s

teacup on the nightstand and his shoes by the bathroom door. My head drops back to the pillow with a whoosh .

Reality hits me like a splash to the face.

Oh. My. God.

I was fantasizing about Finn.

In his bed.

Bloody hell, Millie.

I’d say fantasizing about your coworker in his bed is absolutely on the wrong side of the friendship line.

Fuck.

I yank the covers over my face with a groan, but that backfires when Finn’s scent surrounds me. These sheets are pale green, a different color from last night, so I’m pretty sure they’re clean. But somehow, they’re covered in his scent, and I can’t stop myself from squeezing my eyes shut and inhaling it like I’m an addict. The sage aroma must have magic powers over my brain. It feels like it infiltrates all the little corners and pockets, soothing my nerve endings and calming my thoughts.

How did I get to this point? I’ve let Finn so far into my heart that even his smell calms me?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I remember everything that happened a little while ago in the kitchen, and regret burns in my chest.

I let that conversation get so much further than I should’ve. Everything logical in my brain says to stay away from him for

all the reasons on the list.

Yet, no matter how many times I go over that list, my heart has other ideas. My heart is a needy, wanton floozy who craves

Finn’s attention. She aches for it.

The girls’ voices filter through the walls to reach me, so I rouse myself from bed and remake it behind me. I find my phone

on the nightstand and text Lena, begging her to come pick me up. Hopefully, I can make it to the front door without Finn reading

everything all over my face.

I use Ave and El’s bathroom, attempt to smooth down my frizzy, post-nap hair, and descend the stairs.

Finn’s filling a water cup at the fridge when he comes into view, and his eyes flick to me. “You okay?” he asks with a tense

brow. He leaves the cup in front of Avery and approaches me, brushing a hand over my cheeks and forehead. “You’re all red.”

Shit. He can totally tell what happened. I trip back a step as my ears get hot.

Leave, Millie.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just thirsty. Lena’s here to pick me up,” I say, shuffling toward the front door and grabbing my bag of clothes from the living room floor.

“Uncle Finn carried you upstairs after the movie, and we had to be soooo quiet,” Eloise explains, following on my heels as

I try to escape.

Finn hands me a glass of ice water at the door. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I squeal too brightly, gulping down a few sips and shoving it back to him. “Lena’s just in a hurry.”

Finn’s brows are tight, his lips parted like he is trying to find the right words.

God, my cheeks are on fire .

I swing open the door, and luckily, Lena is waiting at the curb. I scurry down the steps, waving my goodbyes, and flee the

scene of my amorous crime.

***

When I get to work on Monday, a pastry bag from Maggie’s, a coffee, and a folded note sit atop my desk.

The light gray stationery has a beautiful galaxy of stars around the border.

Millie,

I have a special plan for Thursday if you’re free. I know... it’s not Friday, but it was the only available night for this

particular event. It would just be you and me, but we don’t have to call it a date. We don’t have to go at all if you don’t

want to. I want you to feel comfortable.

Yours,

Finn

Dropping into my seat, I read through the note one more time. My wanton, floozy heart begs me to say yes. To ignore the fact that I ran out of his house just days ago trying to hide that I’d been fantasizing about him.

We can still be friends after that, right?

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