Chapter 2 #2
Knowing he had to face the music sooner or later, he pushed the covers back and placed his mug on the side table.
After getting to his feet, he stretched his arms over his head and caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his door.
White T-shirt, grey shorts, and, shit , his hair really did look kind of weird, even to himself.
The cut made him look more…mature. Sophisticated , he thought as he angled his head to the side. His mother was going to flip.
“Finn!”
More than she already was.
He headed down the narrow hall of their beach house, the salty ocean air filling his lungs on a deep inhale.
He’d loved growing up on the water. Going to sleep to the sound of the waves crashing to shore, and waking to the gulls cawing at sunrise.
It was peaceful there, and it had helped heal his family after they’d been broken from his father passing.
As he rounded the corner into the little kitchen that faced the ocean, he spotted his mother, all five feet of her, singing and dancing to “Kokomo” as she flipped pancakes at the stove.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorway and watched her as she swayed around the kitchen to the beat of the music.
Carefree and bubbly with her beach-blond hair braided down her back and her sundress flowing around her knees. She was happy there, and it showed. Then, when she turned around and spotted him, her singing abruptly stopped and her spatula froze in midair.
“Daniel Finley,” she said, shaking the kitchen utensil at him as she walked barefoot across the linoleum floor. “You are a sight for sore eyes, young man.”
When she reached him, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed as she took him in hers. He’d missed this part about home. The familiarity and the warmth of ones who really loved you.
Then she whacked him on the arm with the spatula and pulled away to tell him, “And I don’t mean that horrible haircut.”
“It’s not horrible,” he said as she slipped out of his arms and looked him over.
“You look city.”
He walked over to the breakfast bar, where she’d laid out three plates, and picked up a handful of grapes from the blown-glass fruit bowl in the middle of the counter.
“I am city,” he reminded her before he popped one of the grapes in his mouth.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t like it. The city’s taken my boy and made him…”
“A man?” he suggested, tongue in cheek.
“Don’t you get smart with me,” she warned him, and turned back to the stove.
“Come on, Ma. Don’t tell me you aren’t proud. Katrina said you tell everyone you know that your son is a ‘fancy’ lawyer in the big city.”
“Your sister always did like to tell stories.”
“And you always said that most stories have a grain of truth in them.”
She took the frying pan off the stove, slid the pancakes onto the stack she’d previously made, and then brought it over to him. “Don’t you go quoting my quotes back at me. Keep that kind of talk for your clients.”
“Yes, Ma,” he said, giving her his most charming smile.
She placed several pancakes on his plate and then rested her hip against the counter.
“You’ve been gone too long, Finn,” she said softly.
He knew that it’d been coming, but the way her voice cracked made his guilt fester and his stomach knot.
When he’d decided to say, Fuck it all , and leave like Brantley had so heavily encouraged him to do, he’d made a promise to himself: he wouldn’t look back, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to come back. Not until he was good and ready. Which he still wasn’t sure he was.
“You’re here now, though, and I told everyone I know that they need to stop by tonight and see you.”
“Ma,” he grumbled. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because people have missed you. That’s why.”
He scooped a spoonful of blueberries onto his pancakes and then cut, and shoveled, a forkful of them into his mouth. That was when his sister decided to make her entrance and slide onto the stool beside him. Hmm, maybe I can ? —
“Pass the syrup, would you, Finn.”
He grabbed the maple syrup and handed it over, and after Katrina had poured a sickening amount of the sweet stuff over her pancakes, she cut into them, shoved them in her mouth, and then grinned full-cheeked at him.
“What?” she asked through a mouthful.
“That’s disgusting.”
She chewed, swallowed, and then stabbed at the next victims. “Let me guess. You’ve turned into a health nut who only eats salads and drinks protein shakes.”
He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his pancakes. He’d been trying to decide his next course of action since returning home, and, quite unexpectedly, his sister had given him an idea.
“Hey, don’t run out the door, okay? I need to give you something before you head to your exam this morning.”
Her blue eyes twinkled at him, and he had a feeling she knew that whatever he wanted to give her would be going to her punctual professor. Little shit.
As he kissed his mother’s cheek, she hugged him around the waist and looked between him and his sister.
“It really is great to have you home, Finn. It’s been too long.”
She was right. He had been gone a long time, but he was there now, and it was time to get what he had come for.
WITH A COFFEE in hand and exam papers in the other, Brantley shut the door to his office and headed toward his second class of the day.
He’d had thirty minutes between scheduled exams, so if he didn’t take advantage and grab a coffee now, he’d be a zombie by lunch. He’d been sleeping like shit lately.
Muffling a yawn with his binder, he started in the direction of his room. He’d just turned into the west corridor, heading toward the far end, when he spotted Katrina Finley standing outside the classroom. As usual, she was wearing her bright pink headphones and was busy texting someone.
When he got closer, a smile split her lips and his heart ached a little at the reminder of Daniel. In so many ways, she was his complete opposite, but that one thing, her smile, brought to mind the face of the man he was trying to make himself forget.
Jesus, quit it already. He isn’t coming back.
As he stopped beside her, Katrina glanced up and pulled her headphones from her ears. The smile she’d had a minute ago widened, if that were possible, and she slid her phone into the pocket of her cardigan.
“Good morning, Katrina.”
“Hey, Professor Hayes.”
“Are you ready for the weekend?”
She ran her fingers through her hair and then nodded. “Sure am. There’s a party at our house tonight. You should come.”
He laughed, thinking she was joking, but when he turned to open the classroom door, a hand landed on his arm. Looking back at her, he released the handle and then tilted his head to the side when she gave him a folded piece of paper. He frowned down at it, confused.
“Really, you should be there tonight,” she said, and then she stepped around him to head into class.
His hand shook as he stared at the paper between his fingers. No, there’s no way this is from ? —
He walked down the hall and slowly unfolded the paper, and what he saw there had his breath catching somewhere in the back of his throat.
Tonight. Eight o’clock, sharp. Don’t be late.
That handwriting was unmistakable. He’d read countless essays, exams, and reports written in the same scrawl.
Daniel had come home.
He’d really come home.
And he wanted to see him. Tonight .
He tried not to read too much into the note, but as he refolded it and slipped it into his pocket, he could barely wipe the grin from his face.
He was going to see Daniel in less than twelve hours.
Suddenly, his day was looking up.