Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gem
When I woke up, tucked beside Finn, it was still pitch-black outside. A quick glance at my phone told me it was only half three. I groaned and rolled over, hoping I’d drift off again, but now that I was awake, I really needed to piss, and by the time I made it to the bathroom, I knew I wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. The floating, relaxed, post-sex sensation was gone, and my brain was firing on all cylinders, thinking through everything that needed doing and wondering how early was too early to call the builders.
Grabbing my t-shirt and boxers off the bathroom floor, where I’d abandoned them last night, I dressed and made my way into the kitchen. I flicked on one of the lamps, hoping that grabbing some water and chilling on the sofa in the living room for a bit would help my brain switch off again. Finn’s tablet sat on the little coffee table by the sofa surrounded by a stack of papers. I shifted everything to the left slightly so I could grab a coaster from under the tablet. Underneath it was Finn’s planner—an old-fashioned Filofax in a deep red, faux-leather binder. It was totally Finn, and the sight of it had a sleepy smile crossing my lips.
The organiser was open to this week, and I saw a list of builders and their numbers neatly printed under yesterday’s date. It made my chest tighten for reasons I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because Finn had done this for me without question. It was tangible proof he cared about me and that I meant more to him than something casual he would discard when things got difficult.
I put the glass of water down and settled myself on the sofa. Glancing at the diary again, I wondered if Finn would mind if I took a photo of the list. I knew I shouldn’t really be looking at it, even though it was right there. It was private, and Finn hadn’t given me permission to look. Not that I expected it to be full of secrets, but still, personal boundaries were a thing. Then again, looking at one page wasn’t going to hurt, especially if it was already open and I was just taking a picture of the information already there. And I didn’t have to tell Finn. Or I could tell him later when he was awake.
It was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
Leaning over the table, I positioned my phone over the date so I could make sure I captured everything. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some small letters printed under Friday that caught my attention: Upload F&F Bonus 3. I frowned, trying to work out what was different about it. I scanned the week, looking at how Finn described the rest of his work. The language was similar but there was something about it that nagged at my brain.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Don’t be nosy.”
I hoped by saying it out loud I’d be dissuaded, but my brain refused to let it go. I sat back on the sofa, pulling up Twitter in the hope I could distract myself with some mindless scrolling. Instead, I ended up on Audible, looking through both of Finn’s narrator profiles to see if I could find anything with a similar title. I knew he used one name for the cosy mysteries and crime novels he did and another—which was just a minor variation—for romance novels. There was nothing with that title pattern though, and nothing that even suggested bonus content. Unless he was doing it privately for someone, although he’d never mentioned doing anything like that.
Shaking my head, I tried to focus on something else. This was absolutely none of my fucking business, and I had no idea why I was suddenly so obsessed. Maybe it was because somewhere deep inside my brain, I was still clinging to the idea that Finn was the narrator of Fantasy and Filth, even though I’d dismissed the idea so many times it wasn’t even funny anymore.
Yeah, they had the same laugh. But so do a ton of other people. I’d heard someone make a little hiccup laugh in The Lost World last week when I’d been stocking shelves. I’d looked around to see who it was and found a couple of young women comparing various new fantasy releases. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon sound. And, yes, the narrator had said he was playing through all of Final Fantasy , which was something Finn had also been doing, but those games were fun to play.
I couldn’t keep trying to make connections because I wanted them to be the same person, but there was something sexy as fuck about the idea.
The reality would be different, though, and I had no idea how I’d even bring it up. How the hell would that even work? I couldn’t just start a conversation with “Surprise! I know about your secret, and I’ve been subscribing to your MyFans for nine months and love getting off to your work.” Yeah, that was never going to happen.
Finn might have been more confident and kinky in bed than I’d ever imagined, but he wouldn’t be the only man who was different in his day-to-day life. It was always the quiet ones who got you, and Finn was the quietest man I knew. Which was why it made sense for him to be a phenomenally kinky bastard who knew how to push every single one of my buttons without even trying.
I sighed. I was going around in circles, and I wasn’t getting anywhere.
Except…
Shit.
I reached out and flicked back a couple of weeks. There was a little note for “Bonus 2” under the Friday several weeks ago. With shaking fingers, I tapped through Chrome to find my MyFans account and the Fantasy and Filth page.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered. But it didn’t stop me. I swallowed, staring at the screen. There was a post from the same date labelled “Very Late Valentine’s Bonus: Part Two.” And when I scrolled further back, I found part one, which had been posted on a date that matched the pattern.
It wasn’t proof proof, but it was as close as I could get without some major snooping and a violation of Finn’s privacy. I’d crossed a lot of lines to get to this point, and my pounding heart was evidence of that. But it did mean I was right—potentially at least—and my emotions swelled. Finn was the narrator, the man I’d been unrealistically crushing on for months. And he was also the man I was falling for.
For once, life didn’t seem to want to punish me.
Except, I realised it was. In two ways. First, it had given me this knowledge knowing I either had to keep it a secret or tell Finn I was his biggest fan and most devoted subscriber. And second, it had made me realise that Finn was keeping secrets from me and a pretty big fucking secret at that. I wasn’t angry because I didn’t have any fucking right to be, but I was… upset. But I didn’t know if I had any right to be that either. It wasn’t as if Finn and I were in a relationship, and it wasn’t as if he had to tell me when I hadn’t made any commitment to him.
We were friends, though, and I’d thought we were close. Then again there was close and there was close , and this fell into the second category. I wondered if he’d actually told anyone else. I got the feeling Chantelle knew from things Finn had said on previous recordings, and after meeting her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d pushed Finn to go for it. But I didn’t think anyone else knew and certainly not his family.
Then again, if I recorded sexy as fuck audio porn that people got off to on a regular basis, I wouldn’t tell my family either. I didn’t think I’d tell anyone , so I understood Finn’s reasoning. I just needed to find a way to tell him I knew and that I was okay with it. More than okay with it. I mean, I’d happily recreate every single one of his scenarios if he’d let me. I wondered if he’d be up for that. I also didn’t want him to think that if, by some fucking miracle, we got together that he’d have to stop. I knew some guys would be dicks about it, but I loved the idea of him recording the scenarios, especially if he was thinking about me while he was doing it. Plus, it was just words, and at the end of the day, I’d be the one he was coming home to.
“Fucking hell!” I scrubbed my face, trying to work out what to do next. But four in the morning wasn’t the time to figure that out, and it wasn’t like I could do anything at this exact second. I wasn’t going to wake Finn up just to demand an answer or explanation—no matter how much he liked me, pulling some shit like that was never going to endear me to him.
Swinging my feet off the sofa, I walked back to his room. Finn was curled on his side, his head barely visible above the duvet. Just knowing he was there stripped my worldly worries away, and I smiled as I pulled off my clothes and climbed in beside him, pressing against his back and pulling him into my arms. Finn let out a little snuffly sound and a sigh, and I realised that whatever happened, I never wanted to let him go.