Chapter 76
FINLEY
The pounding in my chest refuses to ease as I step into the elevator and the doors slide shut. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, soaking into my top.
Remind me to never work out with Kailey again.
I swipe my towel over my forehead and down my neck while I catch up on the messages I’ve missed over the last hour and a half.
The first up is the FOREVER group chat.
Eli
Packed and ready to come home
T-minus 6hrs 46mins
Eli’s message is followed by a photo of Jayden sprawled on the hotel couch with his feet up on their carry-on cases. He has his overhead headphones on and a big smile on his face that’s contagious as hell.
I have no control over my mouth or the chuckled sigh that escapes me when I scroll down to the next message from JJ with an album cover preview for a new track by a new artist. He sends me new music all the time, even when he adds it to our shared playlist.
JJ
This one is all you
I tap the link, and the new beat hijacks our playlist. Electric disco. So freaking good. My body bops on instinct. Of course, that grin on his face was infectious—the track doesn’t give you a choice except to get lost in its chirpy rhythm.
JJ
Don’t let Kiki tire you out
That’s our job
Eli
…and we have plans
By the time the doors to our floor ping open, I’m not just bopping to the music, I’m squirming to all the possibilities that come with the we have plans statement.
After last night’s video call where I watched JJ and Eli make out—their hands roaming over each other, mouths devouring every inch of skin they could find—I’m still a hot mess for it.
Even if it ended with them watching me get off on them.
Can’t wait.
So ready for it
I let myself into the apartment, fussing over Blanca when she greets me with excitable leaps in the air.
I set fresh water down for both pups, slip them each a sneaky treat, then put JJ’s track on repeat through the sound system while I start prepping brunch for when my men land. They’ll be taking off any second now.
Eli
We’re wheels up in 5
JJ
Get our pussy wet and stretched cause we’re coming in hot and ready to fill you up, Lucky
Gonna make a pretty mess of that gorgeous kitty.
Oh shit. My coffee burns down the wrong hole. I try not to choke, but I keep rereading his message and my heart hammers so hard into my throat I can’t get it under control.
Eli
See you soon, angel
Love you
JJ
T-minus 4.5hrs baby…can’t wait to hit home
Love you
Steadying myself, I snap a quick photo of myself in my sweaty workout apparel, my whole body flushed from the exercise and my choking fit. Messy bun half-fallen, tendrils tickling the curve of my bare shoulders, drawing the eye to my pushed-up breasts in a front-zipped sports bra.
Already sweaty and wet for you
See you soon…
I’ll be the one sprawled naked on our bed
JJ
Killing it with the pics again.
Fuuuuck…
Eli
Yeah
JJ
Gonna fuck those tits so fucking good
Eli
I’ll watch that
JJ
While he’s balls deep in your hot mouth, fucking your perfect throat…
My hand presses to my neck as I swallow the hollow ache swelling at the back of my throat. Anticipation from our back-and-forth has my need soaking through my panties and leggings. With a shaky grip, I try to type a reply, then drop my phone. It narrowly misses my mug as another message lands.
JJ
No touching yourself
Not even in the shower
Eli
No showering
I love the taste of you sticky and sweaty
JJ
Gotta go now
Eli
Rest up sweet girl
No touching
No showering
Can’t wait to taste you
That one emoji is all I can reply. My brain is delirious from their messages, and nothing is computing to the rest of my body except for the need to satiate the simmering ache pulsing between my thighs, weighing down my breasts.
My nipples are so hard and tender that every move I make sends a shock of stomach-swooping electricity through me.
JJ
Taking off now
Fucking love you so much, Fin
Eli
To the ends of the universe, beautiful
A different kind of weight drops onto my chest, chilling the warmth of our flirting and warring with the lusty tension.
Tears prick the back of my eyes at their declarations. I can hear their raspy, gruff voices whisper the words in my ears. In that low, soulful rake that has my insides vibrating with the depth of their intensity as I reply too late for them to see.
Love you to infinity.
To distract myself, I open other messages. A couple from Summer I skim, then one from Christina.
Tina
Brunch this weekend. You and me only. Girl time.
Umm…
Who this?
Ha. Ha.
I’m finally freeeeeeeee…
I miss you
This weekend. You, me, and bottomless mimosa brunch at Frei étoile.
Carbs
Booze
Girly gossip
My phone vibrates with Christina’s funny face shining up at me. It seems like forever since we’ve spoken. However, when I answer, her chipper “Hi” greets me like we spoke just yesterday.
“It’s stupid to text when we can actually talk.” Her voice is sleepy and upbeat as she continues, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. This last assessment was so fucking hard, and with work… It’s been impossible to keep up with everything.”
“Don’t apologize, I understand. It’s been kinda crazy with all the Es here.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe major dickwad posted bail. It’s ridiculous, given he’s charged with assault and battery. Anyway, fuck the bastard, how’re you doing?” A huffy sigh echoes down the line as I grab the ingredients to start on the pancake batter.
“Actually, I’m good. Looking forward to having my guys back home. Kailey’s moving to LA in the summer, so she’s staying with us until her dorm’s assigned, and Salem is still here, too.”
“One big dysfunctional family,” Christina chuckles, a sad rasp graveling the lightness.
“Yup. We definitely don’t fit the mold. It works, though.” My laugh brings back hers. “So, aside from school, what else is going on?”
With a long exhale, she grumbles, “Same old. My mom showed up at my door last week. Half-cut… drunk…”
“And?” That heavy cloud on my shoulders bears down at her audible swallow.
“Same old. I cleaned her up, gave her the cash she needed to get dealers off her back, and she was gone before I woke up.”
“Tina…”
“Yeah, I know, Fin… I don’t have to look after her. Trust me, I know, but someone needs to do it.”
My hands brace on the stone counter. I hold myself in place so I don’t race straight to her door. As much as I want to be there for her, I’ve learned that unless she asks, she doesn’t want to be crowded. She needs space and time to rebuild.
“People see her as a has-been, a junkie…”
“She’s still your mom.”
A breath hitches. “Yeah, and she’s a good person at heart. She’s a good soul… just broken. And I don’t know how to fix her. How to make this world better for her… kinder…” A beat, then a whisper. “I don’t want to lose her. In spite of everything I do, it still feels like I will. Eventually.”
“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, and the consequences of their actions aren’t your fault. You know?”
It’s taken me time and a lot of self-inflicted torment to accept that we can only hold ourselves accountable for the choices we make. I wish I could make Christina see it, too, because I don’t want her to hurt. Nevertheless, I think this is a life lesson that we all have to learn for ourselves.
“My head knows that… but, my heart?” A sigh blusters through the loudspeaker. “My heart, not so much.”
Giving her time to keep talking to me, I pull up Uber Eats while she talks, scrolling to Frei étoile.
Building a care package takes a minute—the menu is lethal.
Today calls for their famed French pastries and German pretzels with all the cheeses and cold cuts, plus homemade cherry jelly and almond butter to put a smile on her face.
I’m placing the order when she says, “She left me a note this time. Normally, she just disappears.”
“What did it say?”
“Thank you, and that she’d see me soon.” Clearing her throat: “I know soon means next time she needs money, but she’s never left me a note before, Fin. Feels kind of big for her.”
I don’t say it’s the least her mom could do, even if it’s on my tongue. Instead: “It is big…”
Because in spite of how I feel, her mom’s acknowledgment is something Christina needs. It means the world to her.
“Anyway, moving on…are we on for this weekend?” she chirps with a forced upbeat trill to her tone.
“Carbs, cocktails, and conversation are the perfect girly brunch. Obviously, it wouldn’t be complete without retail therapy, so maybe you can come help me find Eli’s birthday gift?”
“I’m thinking one of those real-life vagina replicas, and if you wanted to make it a super gift for a real good time, you could do your ass, too.”
“Christina!” It’s taken her seconds to flip the conversation and take it to the gutter, and it’s making me happy to get a sliver of her usual sass. “They have the real thing right here, so… not this time.”
“Party pooper.”
“But you know…” I start—and she knows where I’m going, because she groans and sings a chorus of “lalalalalala” while I continue, “I’m sure Matheo would totally love it.”
“No. Nope. Not listening,” she chants while I tell her how lonely he is and how he’s moping like a sad puppy.
We bounce across topics as we catch up. She gets her breakfast gift basket, and we keep chatting while she eats her feelings, and I finish prepping brunch.
Only when Summer calls do I hang up. She’s panicked, sobbing so hard I can’t understand a word until Parker takes the phone and reiterates everything in a calmer tone.
“Summer can’t make the call with the High Tea Society,” he says, obviously working to keep it together.
“No problem, I got it,” blurts out of me—even though a meeting this big is so far out of my wheelhouse my heart punches into my throat.
“Thank you, Finley.”
“Parker? Is Summer okay? The baby?”
He clears his throat. “Uhh, yeah. Yeah, they’re fine. Summer’s waters broke earlier, and it’s too early, so her obstetrician is keeping her under close watch in case things progress and they need to intervene.”
“Oh-o-okay…” I pull up her messages from earlier to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Just random notes on other projects. “Can you keep me updated? I’ll handle clients and timelines.”
“You are a godsend. Yes, I’ll let you know how things move forward. Thank you.”
“Tell her I have everything covered—no worry, no stress. Tell her to focus on her and your little girl.”
After a few relayed notes, he hangs up. Time to make a plan.
Last week, we signed a huge contract with a chain of English tea rooms, rebranding and refurbishing across the country.
The High Tea Society is synonymous with luxury and celebrities, which means we’re both handling this one.
Two minds are better than one. While Summer took it easier, I made a point of getting all the samples ready.
Except—in my rush to get home yesterday—I left the folder at the office. Which wouldn’t be a problem if we didn’t have a client meeting in an hour.
“Shoot!” I grab my makeup bag from the vanity JJ set up for me in the dressing room and snatch a cute sweater from my rail that will look presentable on camera once I brush my hair and swipe lip gloss and mascara.
Blanca and Samson ogle me from their tangle at the foot of the Alaskan king. Before I can bolt, they’re already trotting alongside—tongues lolling, his tail a metronome while she nudges my thigh.
“Whoa,” Kailey nearly jumps out of her skin as I race through the apartment, almost bowling her over when she rounds the corner into me. “Where are you rushing off to?”
“I gotta run to the office,” I trip over the words, shoving my head through the sweater’s neck. “Got some papers to pick up… a meeting to—”
“A meeting dressed like that? Have you even showered yet?” Her bemusement is a fast-acting steroid to my panic.
I can’t let Summer down. She needs to trust I’ve got this. She needs to focus on herself and the baby…
“Want me to come with?”
“No. No, it’s fine. If I leave now, I’ll make it to the office in time to take the meeting there and be back before Eli and Jayden are home.”
“Okay…” She follows me to the door with Blanca skipping gingerly behind. “Maybe take a breath. You’re flustered and shaking all over…”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, giving Bee a quick fuss. “Can you take Bee and Samson out for me?”
I’m out the door before she finishes her reply. Riding down to the garage, I text Eli and JJ that I’m running to the office—just in case the meeting overruns and I’m not there to greet them.
Traffic isn’t terrible. I make it with time to spare—enough to make coffee, do my makeup, and lay out samples in front of me for the client.
“Breathe, Finley. Freaking breathe…” I chant as the client appears in the virtual room. A whole team of faces stares back. They can probably smell my nerves across the country.
Which is why I’m floored when the call ends and the coordinator messages to say they’re happy and impressed with the vision board and the samples I pulled with Summer’s guidance.
Pheeeew.
I shut down the office, grab my purse, and make sure I have everything before heading out the back door to the alley where I parked. It was the only way to avoid reporters out front.
I’m locking up, typing a reply to the coordinator, when a shadow hulks over me.
The world yanks out from under my feet before I can turn. A big hand slams over my face. In my panic, my phone… my keys… my purse… all hit the ground.
And then, the lights go out.
One blink at a time.
Until it’s just dark.
Cold.
Quiet.