Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CURTIS
Seeing as Finn hasn’t been to my place yet, I contemplate withholding my address until he asks for it, but I’ve tortured him enough, so I text it through to him as soon as we get off the phone.
I told him to get some sleep, but I wish I’d take my own advice. Instead of sleeping, I toss and turn all night, fighting the warring feelings I have toward Finn.
It’s a constant loop of wanting to kiss him, wanting to be mad at him, wanting to yell, wanting to fuck … I can’t keep up with my own thoughts.
All I know is that when I picture his bashful smile, that messy swoop of hair over his eyes, or the gangly way he tries to make himself shorter when we talk, it awakens something soft in my chest.
I wasn’t lying when I told him I still trust him. I do trust that he wasn’t doing any of this maliciously. Yet, that doesn’t take away the sting of him lying to me.
Lying in itself is something I don’t tolerate—especially from someone I’m interested in romantically. It’s a major red flag, and I’ve had enough of men lying to me to manipulate my feelings toward them.
If Finn were any other guy, I’d be telling David that Finn is obviously psycho, which means his sister is too, which means he can’t marry her.
But it’s Finn.
He’s too … pure to be purposefully manipulative.
Unless this is more misguided faith I have for someone I’m interested in. Didn’t all my past lying, cheating, asshole boyfriends start out with my full trust without having a reason to give it to them?
Here, Finn has given me every reason not to trust him, yet instead of writing him off, I’ve invited him over to basically watch our sex tape. I’m too much of a trusting guy; you’d think I’d know better by now.
I said things haven’t changed for me, and I want that to be true. KingdomHearts was a great distraction from the urge to have sex with Finn. He was kind and sexy, but not in the creepy way others are on Money Shot. For it to turn out he’s the guy I was trying to forget about that whole time …
Maybe I am being stupid to blindly trust him.
Before I know it, it creeps up on midday, and I’m still in bed.
I probably still smell like cum from our call. I know my sheets do. But I don’t have time to shower.
At least, I think that, until I find myself sitting on my couch, waiting for a man who’s late, and I realize that despite closing myself off to men, he somehow snuck past my defenses.
And the longer I sit here, the more I ask myself if it was done on purpose.
Last night, when I figured it all out, I was disappointed but convinced of Finn’s innocence, but in the cold, harsh light of morning—well, noon—I have more doubts than ever.
I almost hope he doesn’t show up. At least then I can plan how to be civil for any upcoming group activities while I protect myself from another heartache.
Of course, that’s when he does show up.
There’s a knock at my apartment door, so I suck in a sharp breath to try to find some Zen. Center myself.
If I keep dwelling on this, I’m going to find a way to end this friendship because he will be so built up in my head that I won’t have any other choice but to cut and run.
I should at least hear him out and get a feel for him. Ask him what made him do it.
He rambled some excuses last night—that it was only going to be one message, that he didn’t know what to do, that he’d been crushing on me for over a year …
Okay. I’m ready to do this. I throw open the door, but no one’s there. There are, however, a big bunch of flowers in a vase, a box of chocolates, and one of those baskets that has coffee and cookies and bottles of wine.
But there’s no Finn.
“Finn?” I step outside onto the walkway that overlooks the stairs leading down to the parking lot.
I still can’t see him, but I can see someone with long legs carrying a stuffed teddy bear almost the same size as them.
Dear God, it has to be at least six feet tall. I’d hope it wasn’t Finn, but I can see the top of his light brown hair, shining in the sunlight.
He’s also carrying some shopping bags, one of them from … Home Depot? Is he going to offer to fix my leaky sink as an apology?
Considering I was half expecting to see him and only feel rage, that rage is nowhere in my body.
There’s confusion, sure.
But mostly? My stuttered heartbeat and the pleasant twist in my gut make me want to drag him inside and do ungodly things to him while the teddy bear watches.
He hauls the thing up the stairs and rounds the corner to where I’m standing, arms folded, trying really hard not to let my smile unfurl, but he’s panting, his cheeks are red, and when his blue eyes meet mine, there’s nothing but regret and remorse in them.
And that’s why I still trust him. Because it would be impossible for anyone to look at him and see anything other than a genuine person. He can’t hide his emotions well. His eyes give away his gentle soul.
“What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing toward the pile on the floor and … his friend.
The big eyes on the giant teddy bear are kind of unsettling.
“That’s a long story. Let me get them inside for you.”
He almost tumbles over the flowers on the ground but manages to push his way through the door.
With curiosity winning over continuing to watch him struggle, I pick up the things he left on my doorstep and follow him in.
“Oh, here.” He lobs the teddy bear my way, and fucking hell, it weighs a ton.
I somehow manage to juggle it all over to the couch and throw the bear on the sofa, put the basket and flowers on the coffee table, while the box of chocolates slips from under my arm and lands on the floor. Luckily, it’s still sealed up, so there’s no mess, but goddamn, this is a lot of stuff.
I get it all situated and turn around—to find Finn’s on his knees in the middle of my living room.
Not a completely horrible sight, if I’m honest. Would be better if he was naked though.
“This is me groveling,” he says.
“You don’t need to—”
He cuts me off. “I do. I really do. At first, at the engagement party, I didn’t recognize you. I thought you looked familiar in that unsure kind of way—”
“So you said last night.”
“It was at bowling when I first saw your arm tattoo up close. That’s when it clicked.”
“And when you started acting weird.”
Even though he told me all this already on the phone, hearing it again, seeing the honesty in his rueful expression, it settles the lingering distrust.
“Well, yeah,” he says, eyes big and innocent.
“If your favorite porn star was sitting directly across from you, wouldn’t you freak out too?
” His shoulders slump. “Oh, wait. No, you’d ask him to collaborate without hesitation, but you’re you.
I’m me. Plus, there’s the whole thing where my sister is marrying the guy who’s practically a brother to you.
So if I’d brought it up, that would’ve been weird.
I kept it to myself and pretended Gunner wasn’t a huge part of my life, but then …
I couldn’t bring myself to unsubscribe and ended up messaging you.
Like I told you last night, I had the intention of telling you why, in case you thought it was something you did, but then you replied, and you seemed so down-to-earth and awesome.
And then in person, you were this great guy.
I … I wanted to keep going. With both of you.
You and Gunner. And I realize that you’re both the same man, but to me, the two are sort of different.
I can’t explain it, but I do want to show you that I genuinely am sorry. For all of it.”
I blink at him, still kneeling on the floor, his head held low.
There’s that war again. The one torn between jumping him and telling me to hold my own. Or maybe that’s telling me to hold him.
“Can you get up?” I ask.
“Not until you forgive me.”
Knowing I should be better at holding a grudge than this, I get down on the floor in front of him so we’re at the same level. “I only need to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you ever lie to me again?”
“Never.”
I want to believe him. I’m pretty sure I do believe him. But the real test will be when it comes to something worth lying about that I’ll probably question everything he says. “Then you’re forgiven.”
His gaze flicks up to mine. “Wait, really?” When I don’t take it back, he adds, “I didn’t even get to the presents part.”
I rub the back of my neck. “About that. What the hell did you do?”
He jumps to his feet. “I went to the store this morning because I felt so guilty and wanted to buy something to make it up to you, so I got the chocolates and the hamper with the wine, and then I stopped by the florist, who asked me who they were for, so I told her that I’d messed up—”
“You … told the florist. About what you did.”
“I didn’t tell her the whole story. Just that there is this guy I really like, and she asked how badly I’d fucked up, so I said out of ten, probably a twelve, and then she asked me what type of guy you were and whether or not you’d even appreciate flowers.
Long story short, after that, I might have freaked out more, and so I decided to cover all my bases.
I went to Home Depot for all your power tool needs.
” He grabs the bright orange bag and pulls out an …
electric drill. “And then it occurred to me that, duh, you’d probably appreciate a sex toy.
” He throws me a pink, nameless bag. “But then after I bought that, I thought you might see that as your job, and maybe you didn’t want a present that reminded you of that or that I was talking to you as Gunner, so I almost kept it for myself.
But in for a penny, in for a pound, right? ”
I can’t hold my smile back any longer, and my lips twitch upward. “Question. When did the … that thing—” I point to the teddy bear on the couch.
“Oh, that was somewhere between he’s going to hate everything and oh shit, now I’m going to be late to get to his place.”
I peek into the bag, curious as to what kind of sex toy he’s picked up for me, but I’m already so close to breaking our no-hooking-up rule that I force myself not to reach in there and pull it out.
Me in the same room as Finn and a sex toy?
I’m surprised my clothes haven’t voluntarily fallen off on their own.
“You’re not saying anything,” Finn says. “You really do hate it all, don’t you?”
I huff a laugh. “Nowhere near it. As far as apologies go … I hope you never fuck up again because this one will be hard to top.”
The breath he releases expels so much tension in his body.
“So …” I say. “How about we watch that video?”
Oh, look. With one question, the tension is back.