Chapter 25
The barrage of my family sweeping into the kitchen halts all conversation between me and Pops, but not before he gives me another hug. “We can talk about this another time.”
Knox walks in first, his arms above his head.
“Soup night!” he calls out loud enough for the neighbours to hear.
He’s followed by Dad and Royal, both immediately noticing the way we’re standing and frown.
Saint and Noah follow, so wrapped up in each other, they don’t notice anything about me. God, I want what they have.
“What’s going on? Drake, are you okay?” Dad says, looking at me with concern, then looking at Pops.
“We’re fine, just chatting about the past,” Pops fills in for me. I’m too busy looking at the doorway to where Memphis is standing—nothing new there. It’s the fact that Finn is standing with him, his tall and muscular frame filling most of the space. “Oh, Finn, it’s so good to see you again.
“He heard about soup night,” Memphis says, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. The fucker even has the nerve to wink at me. Like how did he even know I was here? “He came to the gym to work out. Kip says it’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. Hi, Finn, it’s so good to have you here. Memphis talks about you so much.” Pops enthuses. “You know everyone here, don’t you?”
“What’s the soup?” Knox interrupts, his stomach not caring who Finn knows. He’s never recovered from being starved when he was on the streets. His story, not mine.
“I’ve made two. A minestrone and a Texas Chili. Come on, sit down, and we help ourselves,” Pops says, smiling at me and giving me a wink.
Everyone crowds around the table; I expect Finn to pick a chair next to me.
He doesn’t. Instead, he’s picked the other side of the table, directly opposite me.
I realise that that was worse. To my surprise, he only looks concerned.
Do I look like I’ve just had a breakdown?
I excuse myself and head down the hall to the loo.
When I look in the mirror, I realise why he looked the way he did.
My eyes are red, my skin all blotchy. Basically, I look a mess.
After splashing some cold water on my cheeks, I look a little better.
Now, I look tired, but not emotional. When I open the door, Finn is leaning on the staircase, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arms folded over his very broad, very muscular chest. Tonight, he’s in black sweatpants and a grey T-shirt.
He’s emanating strength and masculinity; he’s a Dom without a doubt.
The energy he’s giving off makes me want to drop to my knees and bow my head.
I have to force myself look away. “Not here,” I say, and it’s almost a plea.
“No, not here. But soon.” He holds out his hand. Does he want me to walk back in holding his hand? He doesn’t drop the subject, and I squirm. “How good are you at doing as you’re told?” He’s not giving me an inch.
“Very, but not until I know what I’m getting into.” I walk away from the man who has my cock throbbing with one look.
His chuckle is deep and dry. “Brat.”
Just like that, I feel better. Excited, almost.
No one looks at us when we walk back in; the conversation is about the summer camp and the kids. Lucas comes to mind and the conversation with his foster parent. Was Dad able to help her?
I reach over the table to grab the ladle that’s in the Texas chili soup; I fill my bowl and add nacho cheese to the top. When I look up, Finn is watching me, a smile playing on his lips. Whatever he’s thinking about, I’d put money on it being dirty. The butterflies in my stomach flutter again.
I hear my name mentioned and snap myself out of his thrall. “Hm, sorry, what did you say?”
“I said thanks for speaking to Lucas’ foster mum. Things like that are exactly why it’s so important to have this camp and the afterschool clubs. It gets kids from all over town coming in, mixing with kids they would never have known. Friendships are made and kept for years.”
Royal mutters something about Dad never shutting up now that he’s on a roll.
I smile into my bowl, knowing exactly what he means.
Even with him now in retirement, his passion for the gym and everything it stands for are worth being proud of, but we know his story like the back of our hands.
Luckily, Pops speaks up over him. Unluckily, it’s to grill Finn.
“Finn, tell us about you. How long are you going to be here?” He smiles while we all groan.
“Leave him alone, Pops,” Royal laughs. “He doesn’t need the third degree from you; you’ll scare him away and looking at the way he and Drake are ogling each other, that would be a damn shame. Drake could use some fun.”
I feel my cheeks heat, but jump when a foot touches mine, tapping softly against it.
“I don’t mind, Royal,” Finn says, then turns to Pops.
“I’m moving over here. After everything that happened to Memphis, I don’t want to be there anymore.
I put my house on the market this morning and have started to look for somewhere to live here. I’m on Memphis’ couch for now.”
“Which leads to my news,” Memphis interrupts him. “I’ve given into Royal’s begging and pleading and decided to move in with him. If it’s okay with you two, Finn can stay at the flat,” he says, looking at Pops and Dad.
“I didn’t beg,” Royal grumbles, but we all know he did. He’s made no attempts to hide his desire to have Memphis with him.
I smile, grateful the focus has been taken off me and Finn.
I finish my soup, swiping the fresh bread around the bowl to get the last of it.
It’s time for me to go home; it’s been a long day.
My emotions are all up in the air, and my nerves have taken enough today.
I want to unwind and process all the things that have happened.
My flighty feet, my mother, and the mixed feelings I have for Finn.
There are a lot of thoughts about him already fighting as they line up to go first. I pick up my bowl as I push back my chair.
The legs scrape on the floor, making me wince. “Sorry.”
“Are you leaving so soon?” Pops asks, frowning at my sudden move to leave.
“Yeah, I’ve got a few things to do at home.”
“I’ll see you out,” he says, standing up. He holds his hand out when I start to protest, so I give him a small smile.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” I say to the table as a whole.
I don’t want to focus on anyone individually; it will mean looking at Finn again.
When we reach the front door, I pause, wanting to say the right thing.
“I’m not going to look for her; you and Dad are all the parents I need.
She didn’t fight for me when she should’ve. You did.”
“Thank you, Drake. You know how much you’re loved by us all. If you ever change your mind, I’ll help you.” He hugs me again. “So, Finn, huh?”
“Stop it. There’s nothing there.” I hate the heat on my cheeks as I look away from him, but I concede a little. “Not yet anyway.”
I’ve actually got my door open and one leg in when I’m called again. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter and look up. Obviously, it’s Finn. I must have done something so very wrong in a previous life. “What’s up?”
“I know it’s an imposition, but could you take me back to the flat. They’re hanging around to sort out gym stuff.”
There’s not really a solid reason for me to say no.
Telling him that he makes me want to drop to my knees isn’t going to do it.
In fact, he would probably consider it an invitation.
He’s been on my mind since I pushed him out of my apartment last week.
Which only leaves me saying yes. “Sure thing, hop in.”
His smile has me wanting to jack off again.
This guy is gonna kill me. Or my traitorous thoughts.
I could take him back to my place and give him free range on my body.
Christ, just his scent filling the car has my dick pulsing hard in my pants.
I want to open the window to get some fresh air in here, but the aircon is doing a great job of keeping the car cool so it would only look weird.
Breathing through my mouth would make me look like a panting dog.
Now, all I can think of are other ways he could make me pant.
The sting of a flogger, the pain of hot wax on my torso, the ache of a humbler, especially with wrist restraints too.
My face flushes as my heart beats faster and harder; it’s like I’m in a scene with him, and it’s all in my head.
“Are you okay?” He’s smiling. Even without looking at him, I know he’s smiling at me.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “You’ve gone red, and you’re squirming.
Does me being here make you uncomfortable or are you thinking of all the ways I can make you come?
” His voice is like thick treacle, rich and heavy and full of temptation. “Do you want me to make you come?”
I’m silent. I daren’t speak in case I say yes without a second thought.
“Perhaps I can give you a choice. You can drive me to the flat then go to yours, back to the quiet of your thoughts, or you can take me to yours and let me do the things you’re desperately trying not to think about. I’ll leave it up to you.”
Christ, why has he done that? The way I feel I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. This is one of the reasons I submit—so I don’t have to make decisions.