Give Me Butterflies (Oaks Sisters #1)

Chapter 29

Millie

“Maybe he hasn’t recovered from the raging hard-on you left him with.” Lena shrugs behind her bottle of sparkling water.

I roll my eyes, running my hand over Pepper on the couch between us. “Maybe he didn’t like it?”

After he had me literally seeing stars on that overlook, Finn barely spoke to me on the way home from the farm. It’s unsettling—not

knowing what shifted between us so suddenly.

Today was my first day as the temporary director of the entomology department. It was close to a normal day, aside from a

few phone calls I had to make and emails I responded to. This week I’m focusing on a new collection plan for the lab room

that I’ll present at my interview. Then tomorrow I have a meeting with Sharon and all the department heads in the museum,

so hopefully that will give me a chance to shine.

Even though Finn will be there.

Which is awkward, but I guess that’s what we signed on for by sort of starting something up and then letting it fall apart.

We will just have to take a swift jump back into the coworker realm.

Lena nudges me with her foot, snapping my attention back to her skeptical glare. Her dark curls are up in a bun today, and she’s wearing the hell out of a workout set like she’s going to the gym soon, but we both know she’d have to be dragged by a hot guy or gal to ever set foot in there.

“I can tell you for certain that he liked what happened on that overlook,” she says sternly.

I sigh. “I mean more generally. Maybe he doesn’t want a physical relationship like that with me.”

My insecurities are like an exposed wound this week, leaving me riddled with anxious uncertainty, and not hearing from Finn

is only exacerbating them.

Lena sets her drink on the coffee table. “We could host a game night to invite him to something back in the friend zone.”

When I don’t answer right away and just stare into the ivy hanging in our window, she says, “You don’t like that idea.”

“I don’t want to go back to friends,” I whisper, giving voice to what’s been floating around in my mind all day. “All these

thoughts and feelings were coaxed out of me, and I don’t want to put them back. I don’t even know that I could.” I lie down

next to Pepper, and she lifts her nose to rest it on my shoulder with a long groan. “It’s sad that I’m coming around to the

idea as he’s pulling away.”

My phone chimes with a text notification, and I sit up to reach for it, a bubble of excitement filling my chest at the prospect

of a text from Finn.

But that bubble pops against my ribs when I see the name.

Kyle: This is fucking ridiculous. Quit acting stupid. I need to talk to you, and you’re being a bitch.

My arms drop to my lap as my stomach twists in knots.

Lena bends until she draws my eyes to her. “What is it?”

“Not Finn.” I hesitate, hating that I didn’t tell her about this sooner. But it would be even worse to continue avoiding it. I hand her my phone as a dark cloud forms over my heart.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Lena rages, scrolling up to his past messages. “I’ll do it. Oh my god. He has no right to treat you

like this.”

My chest constricts like someone’s fist is wrapped around it, squeezing all the air out. “He... he came into Maggie’s one

morning.”

Her gaze sharpens. “Shit. Mills. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to fix everything for me.”

“I don’t have to. I want to. I could’ve been helpful.”

“Finn was there, so I hid behind him until Kyle left.” I try to straighten my shoulders to let more air into my lungs, but

they still feel tight.

Lena’s forehead pinches. “Kyle lives thirty minutes from here.”

“I know. It freaked me out so much that I haven’t been back to Maggie’s other than the croissant lesson with Finn.”

She shakes her head. “Did Finn know what was going on?”

“I told him. He said he’d go back to Maggie’s with me if I wanted him to.”

“You know I would too, right? I can be your right-hand bitch, ready to do anything necessary. Cut off his balls, bury a body...”

A small laugh bursts out of me. “Finn said something similar, except not quite as gruesome.”

Lena shrugs. “Maybe we double-team it, then. Finn does the wimpy stuff, I do the hard-core stuff?” She covers my hand with

hers. “First, though, you block this asshole. You shouldn’t have to read shit like that or expend any mental energy on him.”

***

Oaks Folks

Mom: Found a pair of blue, little-girl socks under the couch. Want me to send them to you, Millie?

Tess: Have you really not cleaned under the couch since we were little?

Mom: I assume they belong to Avery or Eloise.

Dad: Don’t mail them. Make Millie and Finn bring those sweethearts back. We didn’t get enough time with them.

Fabes: True. I want to see them again!

Tess: Yes! Please!

Mom: Bring them back!

I stare at the phone, searching for the right response, but it never arrives. Things with Finn are still in an awkward holding pattern, and reading the sweet messages from my family makes the pain in my chest burn hotter.

I miss him. I miss the girls.

***

The meeting starts at ten in the morning, but I land in my chosen seat at nine thirty, determined to be there before anyone

else.

Well, okay, I want to be there before Finn. That way he has to choose where to sit based on where I am. If he picks a seat right next to me, I’ll take that to mean things might

be okay eventually. If he sits as far away from me as possible, that probably means things I don’t want to think about.

As the minutes creep closer to ten, other department heads filter into the room. Jamila from the local flora and fauna exhibit

takes a spot next to me, but my other side remains open. I manage to make small talk while keeping one eye on the door, waiting

rather impatiently for the moment of truth.

With one minute until ten, the door swings open, and Finn’s broad shoulders invade the room. Heat creeps up my neck, and I

drop my gaze before he can see me watching the door. I fiddle with my sparkly orange pen on the table and studiously avoid

his eyes while I wait with bated breath for him to choose a seat.

But he never comes to my side. A chair squeaks across the table as Finn drops into it. Peeking up through my lashes, I let

my vision lift just enough to see his tie.

It’s plain black today. No astronomy flair.

Dr. Black Hole is back, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back in a seat on the other side of the table, three spots

down.

That pretty much counts as “far away” in my book.

My shoulders slump. I had secret hopes, way down in my heart, that seeing each other in person would fix something. We could

either go back to friends, or he could see me and want to talk.

But instead, he’s gone back to ignoring my existence.

Sharon joins us, and I try my best to pretend everything is fine. I act as if I’m the director of the entomology department,

and judging by the way Sharon includes me and asks my opinions, I think I’m doing well. It’s my best impression of “fake it

’til you make it” while deliberately avoiding ever looking at Dr. Finn Ashford.

The responses he’s forced to give are short and grumbly. And when my eyes accidentally land on him, his dark blues are full of annoyance as he grimaces and glares at every person in the room.

Except for me. He never looks my way.

His arms remain crossed over his chest until the moment the meeting ends, then he escapes the room as quickly as he can.

***

Sweat beads along my hairline as I trail my eyes over the butterfly vivarium’s large, transparent panels and gray steel frames.

The massive palms and vines growing up the sides of the building make me feel like I’ve been transported somewhere else. To

a humid jungle oasis, far away from the confusion in my life.

I’ve spent more time here than normal this week, hoping to keep my mind off missing Finn and the girls. This is like a meditation

space for me, where I can let go of everything else in my life and just be with the butterflies.

Yet, despite the peace this sanctuary brings me, it hasn’t been able to block all thoughts of Finn from creeping into my mind.

I’ve had no word from him. No message, no call, no note on my desk.

And, for the most part, I’ve held it together. I just have to make it through one more day of my week in charge. My idea board

and mock-up for the butterfly exhibit I want to pitch are nearly done, and I feel prepared for my committee tour of the vivarium

tomorrow.

I’ve managed to stay busy at work.

But once I arrive at home every evening, my heart aches.

That visualization of my life with Finn and the girls plays on a loop in my head, and I can’t turn it off. Over and over, my throat tightens as I feel those kisses brushed across my forehead and hear that laughter ringing through the bedroom. And I hate how the possibility of that fantasy was ripped away before I ever had a chance to enjoy it.