Chapter 18
JAYDEN
I almost miss the doorbell when the track changes and the buzz comes through my earbuds.
I’m half-tempted to ignore it and carry on reading.
But there’s only three people it can be.
Auguste always calls ahead and knocks, like he doesn’t know what a doorbell is for.
Which means, that it can only be Eli or Finley.
After the other day, I know I should stay away.
Until I can get my thoughts in order and control this ridiculous longing scratching at my ribs from the inside out.
I’m trying so hard and failing so miserably.
I can’t be around Eli and Finley without wanting to get closer.
Without watching the way they yearn for each other and feeling it pang in my chest like a new heartbeat throwing me totally out of whack with myself.
That’s where I’m at when I open the door and Finley greets me with a part-tentative and part-apologetic smile.
“Hey,” she says with a wave that has my eyes trailing down to her hand by her chest.
She’s wearing another short, floral dress, and her hair is a wild disarray of mousy brown waves that are too fucking tempting to comb through with my fingers.
How’s it possible that she looks better every time I see her?
“I brought you pie,” Finley tells me, her smile widening. “Blueberry crumble.”
“Oh.” Sure enough, she’s holding a small dish in her other hand.
“I made it. So, it’s fresh, and I can tell you what’s in it ingredient for ingredient.”
“You want to come in or list them out for me here?”
“Are you busy?” She asks, glancing down at the book in my hand. Her eyes widen when she reads the title—Pride and Prejudice—and self-awareness stalls my pulse a beat or two. “I don’t want to intrude or anything, I just—”
“Finley.” I cut off her nervous babble before she passes out. “Come in.”
Taking the dish from her, I head straight to the kitchen. Placing my book and the pie down on the kitchen island, I grab a couple of plates and a carton of frozen custard from the freezer.
“Take a seat,” I tell her when she ambles up to the open plan kitchen. “You want a drink?”
“I won’t stay long or take up any of your time. You’re probably trying to rest, so…”
“You’re not taking up my time, Lucky.”
“Okay.” The trepidation on her face evaporates completely while she takes a seat opposite where I’m standing.
“What brings you across the hall with a yummy pie just for me?” I put on my best Southern accent, which is still terrible, but it makes Finley chuckle, so it’s perfect.
A flush burns across her cheeks with an adorable gnaw of her lip. “Umm, I was wondering if I could use your phone to call Christina?”
“Still don’t have a cell?”
Finley shakes her head. “I got a job, so it’s on my list of to-buy.”
I know Eli wants to protect her and keep her in a bubble he can control—I do too—but isolating Finley from everything isn’t going to keep her safe.
Leaning over the island counter, I brace myself on my crossed arms while studying her downturned expression.
“What kind of job?” I ask.
“One of Christina’s friends needs an assistant, and I can’t just sit around all day every day. I think I’m going crazy, and the incident outside the hotel... the photos are making it worse. It’s all I’m thinking about and—”
“What incident?” The question blurts from my mouth as her eyes fill with tears.
“Oh,” Finley murmurs, shaking her head down at the counter. “It’s nothing.”
“Finley,” I dip my head so I can see her face, “you can tell me.”
Blue eyes lift to mine, uncertainty clouding their usual vibrancy.
“Eli told me about Havenview.”
“He did?”
I nod. “About what they did to you. How you got the marks on your wrists and ankles...”
“Oh.” The sound is choked as she pulls back, and instantly, my hand clasps hers.
“What happened, Finley?”
Gnawing her lip roughly, she focuses on my hand holding hers. Trepidation is written all over her face as she slowly sits up straight.
You can tell a lot about a person by the way they react to uncomfortable situations. The fact that she’s obviously scared and unsure, and she’s still sitting tall, tells me she’s tenacious. A fighter. And I like it.
“They’ve come for me.”
“Havenview?”
“The Fellowship. Our parents.” Nodding, she leans forward a tad, whispering, “Elijah’s noticed a random car sitting out on the road. Sometimes outside here, others outside the practice facility. He thinks we’re being watched.”
“Could be nothing,” I tell her, trying to calm the panic brewing in her eyes. “Once in a while we get reporters or over enthusiastic fans following us.”
“I wish it was, but I know they’re waiting for me.” She shakes her head, focusing on the wall behind me. “They’re waiting to drag me back.”
The thickness in her voice and the teary swell of her eyes hauls me to her.
“Fin—”
“I thought… I thought that everything was going to be okay. Summer offered me a job, and everything seemed like it was about to become better.”
“It is.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. Eli won’t let anyone hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to... and neither will I.”
“Jayden,” Finley whispers, spinning her stool to face me.
I freeze for a beat.
What am I doing? I ask myself when my feet inch me closer.
“Someone's going to get hurt. Someone will have to atone... and I’m... I’m scared,” the admission is nothing more than a broken whisper.
Then a tear—One. Fucking. Tear—skitters down her face and I’m fucked.
Before I can think better of it, I wrap her up in a tight embrace. I’m not sure who I’m trying to pacify here—Finley or myself—all I’m sure of is that I have to do something. I have to make this better for her. For Eli.
“They followed us. Took photos. Of me and Elijah... of you... us...” With a sob she burrows her face into my chest. “I don't want anyone to get hurt, but I can’t go back either.”
“Nobody is going to hurt you or Eli,” I vow into her hair.
“You can’t promise that.” Finley pulls back to level me with a stern set of her lips.
“Well, I am, and I don’t break my promises, so...” I shrug, giving in to the impulse to wipe away the tracks of her tears. “I got you.”
With an audible swallow, she nods. “And Elijah?”
Fuck. Fuck, her eyes are on me. Like she knows. Like she sees. Right to the core of me. To the heart of me. To the marrow of the feelings I shouldn't have.
“Here,” I say, pulling my cell from my back pocket and holding it out to her. “You wanted to call your friend, right? Christina?”
“Thank you,” is all she murmurs as I put my phone in her hand and back towards the bedrooms.
It’s a moment before I hear her greet her friend, and it takes me another to force myself to leave her completely.
The whole time I’m pacing my bedroom, I’m watching the time on my watch go up excruciatingly slowly.
It hasn’t been ten minutes before I head back to the kitchen.
Finley’s done with her call, silently she peruses my bookshelves. A spark of excitement buzzes in the air. Pulsing between us even though she’s completely unaware of my presence while she picks out random books and flicks through them with a deep inhale.
“Which is your favorite?” I ask, making her jump.
“Umm…” Finley hugs my beaten-up copy of Tess of the D'Urbervilles to her chest. “I haven’t read most of them. They’re not approved by The Fellowship.”
I meander closer to her, leaving enough space between us so I can’t touch her even if I reach for her. With a shrug, Finley gives me a half-bitten, wavering smile before she turns back to the shelves so she can put the Hardy novel back.
“Take it,” I offer. “If you want to read it, you can take it. I’ve read it enough times to recite certain parts, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Are you sure?” Excitement sparkles in her eyes, and after the fear and sadness I've seen in them, I’m mesmerized.
All I can do is nod because all my energy is going into gluing me to the spot.
“So, the weather is decent and you have a new book to get lost in. It’s the perfect combination to spend the rest of the afternoon outside...”
I turn to the breakfast bar where the custard is melting as she balks, “Outside? I can’t... I—”
“We have a rooftop garden.”
“So, we wouldn’t technically be outside outside, right?”
“No, we wouldn’t leave the building.”
“Okay,” Finley nods as I put the custard back in the freezer and the pie in the fridge.
“It’s one of my favorite places to relax and read.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs when I grab my book and guide her out to the elevator.
“What for?”
“Being a friend.”
A friend.
I pause at her remark. The perfect reminder of what we are, and how I should see her. What I should feel for her.
“One second,” Finley says, opening Eli's door. “I just want to grab something real quick.”
“Sure.”
She disappears inside, leaving me in a silence that is far too loud in my head.
It occurs to me while I’m waiting for her that I’m allowing myself to get hooked and reeled in deep by this girl.
Even though I bat away all worries that leech at my sanity, I know that I’m in denial.
I know that I’m not going to be able to let her go with the same certainty that I’ll never be able to get over my feelings for Eli.
Maybe that makes me stupid. But right now, stupid feels good. Stupid is giving me a piece of Eli that I might not have otherwise.
His heart.