Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FINN
I wake up to the comforting scent of cinnamon and sugar, relishing in the warmth of the bed. But that fades fast when I reach for Genevieve and find nothing but cool sheets.
I don’t know what I expected. Waking up to her curled against me, her body still tangled with mine?
Maybe.
Now that it’s morning, the weight of last night presses against me. I can’t decide if it was a colossal mistake or an inevitability.
If Genevieve will think it was a colossal mistake or an inevitability.
I scrub a hand down my face before pulling on my boxer briefs, following the sound of soft clinks and the occasional rustle of parchment paper coming from the kitchen. Sure enough, Genevieve’s baking. She always bakes when she wants to keep her hands busy. To distract herself from something she doesn’t want to think about.
Like what we did last night.
I lean against the counter and watch as she scoops the batter into muffin tins, her movements controlled.
Too controlled.
“‘Morning,” I say, testing the waters.
She doesn’t look up. “‘Morning.”
“How are you?” I ask, resisting the urge to wrap her in my arms and press tender kisses to the soft skin of her neck. It’s obvious she’s still working through last night in her head so I keep my distance.
For now.
“Fine.”
I don’t believe her for a second.
I should let it go. Let her pretend. But I can’t pretend.
Not after last night.
I step closer, careful not to touch her yet, but close enough to see the tension in her shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She finally pauses, gripping the scoop a little too tightly before answering. “What’s there to talk about?”
“We broke some boundaries last night.”
“I know.” She finally meets my gaze. “I was there.”
This is classic Genevieve. Deflecting. Brushing it off. Tucking her emotions neatly into compartments and locking them away so she can pretend it didn’t mean anything.
Pretend she didn’t feel anything.
But I felt it. Every incredible second.
Hell, I still feel it.
“Genevieve…” I narrow my gaze on her, refusing to let her avoid this conversation.
And she knows it.
Finally, she pushes out a long sigh. “It’s not the first time we’ve slept together, Finn. You are trying to get me pregnant.”
Her voice is casual, but there’s something in her eyes. A hint of something she doesn’t want me to see.
Last night wasn’t just another night for her, either.
It meant something, even if she’ll never admit it to herself or anyone else.
“I’m just trying to figure out where your head’s at. That’s all.”
She hesitates as she’s about to scoop more batter into the tin. Then she admits, “I don’t know.” She slowly lifts her gaze toward mine. “Where’s your head?”
I open my mouth, but don’t immediately respond.
Because the truth is, I don’t fucking know, either.
Last night wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t about the damn schedule or the agreement we made.
It was about her .
Her nails scraping down my back.
Her voice breaking on my name.
The way she looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her from unraveling completely.
Now, in the light of day, I don’t know what that means.
But I know one thing. I want more of it. More of her.
I take a hesitant step toward her, studying her reaction for any sign of reluctance. Thankfully, she doesn’t retreat, allowing me to invade her space.
“I really enjoyed last night. It was nice not to be under any…pressure.”
Something in her posture relaxes, her lips parting slightly. “Me, too.”
“So maybe we take the pressure off each other.”
She tilts her head. “How so?”
“Maybe we stop being so…clinical about it. I read a few threads on Reddit about this.” I scratch the back of my neck. “A lot of women mentioned they didn’t get pregnant until they stopped being so focused on the calendar. Some think it was the stress of it all that affected them, and once they stopped…forcing it, it worked.
Her brows shoot up. “You went on Reddit looking for pregnancy tips?”
“I was just trying to educate myself,” I argue in my defense. “Maybe that’s what we do, too. Maybe we stop forcing it. Stop living by a calendar.”
She leans a hip against the counter, crossing her arms. “So you’re suggesting we…what? Have sex whenever we want?”
“Sure.” I clear my throat, feeling more nervous now than I was the first time I asked out a girl. “I mean, we can. I just…” I run a hand through my hair to collect my thoughts. “This shouldn’t be stressful for you, Genevieve. Maybe we just sleep together whenever the mood strikes and not be so focused on making sure I’m fucking you at the exact right time on the exact right day.”
“So we’ll sleep together any time?” she asks yet again, as if not fully grasping the concept.
“Yes.”
“As friends?” She studies me, searching my face for something.
“Of course.” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “Nothing else in our original agreement will change.”
I don’t know if I’m saying that to get her to agree or to rationalize my own feelings. Probably both.
“We just won’t be so rigid about when we have sex.”
She looks past me, deep in thought.
This is when she’ll tell me it’s a bad idea.
Because it is a horrible idea.
But being with Genevieve is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. Despite all the reasons I should do everything to keep the lines between us drawn, I want this.
I want her .
Finally, she looks back at me and gives a small nod. “Okay.”
I blink, convinced I misheard her. “Okay?”
“Yes. No more scheduling sex. We sleep together whenever we’re in the mood,” she says very matter-of-factly before turning back around and scooping more batter into the muffin tins.
I watch her, my gaze drifting down the curve of her back. The little boy shorts clinging to her hips. The faint bite marks on her shoulder blades… Marks I left.
Heat flares inside me, possessive and dangerous and so fucking reckless.
I step behind her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her against me so she can feel exactly what she does to me.
She releases a soft whimper, melting into me.
I lower my lips to her ear, my voice husky as I say, “I’m kind of in the mood now.”
She slowly turns in my arms and runs her fingers into my hair, a flirtatious smile curving her lips.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Then her mouth is on mine. Any hint of her previous reluctance or hesitation disappears as we lose ourselves in each other.