Chapter 2 #2
A gorgeous mountain of a man with manners? He has to be a psychopath. Only explanation. Niceness is a red flag if I ever saw it. Actually, being immediately attracted to him was the first red flag.
Not that it matters. He needs friends, not some gay guy checking him out.
“You’re all good. I’ll let you order a few minutes early.” The bartender winks.
Make that two gay guys checking him out. Maybe I can find a time to sneak off and fuck the bartender later to get that itch scratched. I hate impersonal hookups and rarely do it, but it’s all my heart can afford.
Finn turns to me. “What do you want? Beer? Or are you a whiskey man or rum or—”
“I’m good with whatever but wouldn’t turn down a Kraken with Coke.” I’ll switch to beer after this and limit my intake, but I need something strong to perk me up a bit after driving Beth out here and realizing she thinks it’s ten years ago.
“Is that good? I’ll try it too,” Finn says.
“Coming right up.” The bartender makes our drinks, and Finn leads me to one of the cocktail tables.
As soon as we’re situated, Finn leans on the cocktail table in a way to make himself shorter. He must have to do that a lot.
“Just moved to Alberta?”
“Yeah.” He stares outside to where David is holding Melanie’s hand while they talk with Beth. “I understand why Mel moved here, but we’ve always been close, so I figured if she’s moving, I’m moving too. It wasn’t really a question of if but when I could follow her here.”
“Aren’t siblings supposed to hate each other?”
“What? Where did you get that from? Do you hate David?”
“No. But we’re not really siblings. I guess I’m going off what Beth used to say to us.
That we were lucky to both be only children because the bond we’ve made as friends is closer than any siblings have.
” I sip my drink and realize something. “Of course, she might have only told us that because we both hated being only children and asked if we could be brothers for real.”
“That’s really sweet,” Finn says. His blue eyes are so bright, so … piercing.
They unnerve me. “She’s the sweetest woman in the world.”
“Is she doing okay?”
I eye him over my glass as I take another sip. “Melanie told you, then?”
“Isn’t it the whole reason David wanted him and Mel to come back here?
I know it’s hard. I’m an RN, and while I was doing my degree, I worked in an assisted-living facility.
I’ve seen my fair share of heartache dementia can bring to a family.
It’s mostly a lot harder on the families than the patient. ”
“I can see that. I didn’t know you were an RN though. That’s cool. That’s, like, saving lives and stuff. It’s meaningful.”
“What do you do?”
Ah. The ever-dreaded question. “I’ll put it this way. I got an arts degree.”
“Oh, so you’re unemployed.”
Not quite, but I brush it off. “Something like that. I’m an artist, and I’m trying to get my first graphic novel published, but I haven’t been able to hit that Submit button to publishers yet.
” It occurs to me too late that I just told a stranger that.
I’m usually extra guarded when it comes to my novel.
Everyone knows I do graphic design, but that’s about as deep as I get. Usually.
But there’s something about Finn that makes me speak before I think. It must be the nurse in him. Good nurses all have that draw to them, don’t they?
“Why not?” he asks and sounds genuinely interested in the answer.
Too bad for him that’s something I can still hold on to. Because I’m scared shitless no one will like it. “I’m always thinking of ways to change it or make it better.”
“Or you’re using that as an excuse to not put yourself out there.”
There’s the line. He may have gotten past my first wall of defense, but he’s run into the concrete barrier I keep further down. I throw back the rest of my drink to avoid a direct answer. “This just got deep.”
Again, I notice a sudden flash of something cross Finn’s face. A slight frown, the narrowing of eyes like he’s trying to do math or solve a problem.
I don’t need anyone to solve my problems for me. My novel will be done when it’s done, and I’ll decide when to submit it.
I avoid his prying gaze and meet Melanie’s eyes. They’re still outside, but Melanie is looking over her shoulder right at us. The hopeful look on her face is unnerving.
“Is there a reason your sister is staring at us like that?”
Finn turns his head and slumps. “Ignore that.”
“Okay …” I drag out the word.
“She thinks we’ll make a good couple, even though I’ve told her the only thing I’m looking for is to make friends in a new city. New country, even.”
“Oh. She didn’t tell me that you’re …”
“Gay?”
I regret finishing my drink because my mouth is suddenly dry.
My initial feeling was correct after all, and as attractive as I find Finn, as much as I have missed having human connection and this initial spark that’s drawing me toward him, I have my rules for a reason.
Sparks are warning signs, telling me to run the other way, but all I see is “Ooh, shiny things. Let me get closer.” And then I get burned. Always.
“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you,” he says. “She didn’t say anything before I moved, but I’ve only been here a week, and ever since I landed, it’s been ‘Curtis this’ and ‘Curtis that.’ I’ve learned from experience if you ignore her, she’ll give up.”
“Really? Granted, I don’t know Melanie well, but she doesn’t seem the type to give up so easily.”
“Actually, that’s true. Not easily. One time when I was in high school, I wasn’t out yet, and she kept trying to set me up with her best friend—she’s the maid of honor and awesome, by the way.
You’ll like her. It took a week of literally pretending I couldn’t hear Mel for her to give up.
But she did. Eventually. Right around the time she started questioning if she had died, become a ghost, and that was the reason I couldn’t hear her, which was hilarious until she brought out the big guns: her tears. ”
Finn’s dramatic in an animated kind of way and seems fun. He’s bubbly and full of … optimism? No, that’s not the right word. Light. He’s a warm light in a dark room.
And damn it. Spark, spark, spark.
Is it getting hot in here?
I undo the button of my suit jacket as I let him know exactly where my head is at. “It really is a shame that you’re only looking for a friend. And that you moved here permanently.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because if you were only visiting and going home to Chicago next week, we could’ve had some fun. But I don’t do relationships, and hooking up with my best friend’s fiancée’s brother who recently moved to town is a recipe for messiness. I don’t do messy.”
Even if I’m tempted by the way his eyes fill with heat. It only makes me hotter. Seriously, why did they light the fireplace in summer?
“In that case,” he says, leaning in, his tone even deeper than his smooth baritone. “It really is a shame.”