Chapter 24 Finn
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Finn
“Stop fidgeting,” Theo grumbles from the opposite side of the couch.
I grunt in response. My leg starts bouncing for all of five seconds before my heel is back on the war path of wearing a hole through the carpet.
Cole is gone tonight because he’s at parent-teacher conferences with Mav and Abby. They’re going to go out for ice cream afterward, as long as they get a good report from Mav’s teacher, which they obviously will.
Mav loves school more than anything. He wouldn’t jeopardize that. I’m pretty sure he would go to school on the weekends if that were an option.
This means Theo and I will be alone with Riley for dinner. Theo planned something for us to cook together, and I went and bought everything.
I guess we could have surprised her by both waiting for her in our birthday suits and spending the evening fucking each other’s brains out, but that isn’t what either of us wanted.
I’m not saying we are going to turn down the opportunity to sleep with her, but we were friends with her first. We just want to spend time with her.
Now we just get the added benefit of being able to kiss and touch her how we’ve always wanted to.
We’re watching the news, or Theo is, anyway. I’m sitting here crawling out of my own skin, waiting for Riley to get back from her interview. My head turns to the clock for probably the tenth time since we sat down.
“She’ll be here soon. Take a deep breath,” Theo says.
I want to snap back that I don’t need to take a deep breath, but he’s right. I drag in air until my lungs are full. I hold it for four seconds before slowly letting it out.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I mutter. Theo has always been the best at noticing when I’m getting worked up and helping me off the ledge. Something about his calm and quiet demeanor helps me feel a sliver of the same thing.
“She’s going to like it,” he says, keeping his eyes focused on the newscaster who’s talking about gas prices, or maybe it’s the stock market. I don’t really know, and to be honest, I don’t care.
I don’t want to admit why I’m so nervous. Riley isn’t just some random woman I’m sleeping with that I know nothing about. I know her, and she knows me. I liked her eight years ago, and if it’s even possible, I like her even more now.
The front door creaks open behind me. “Finn?” Riley’s still sleepy voice questions.
I turn to peek at her over my shoulder from where I’m sitting on the front steps. She’s wearing a T-shirt of Cole’s and nothing else, or at least there isn’t anything else that I can see.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks, her eyes darting around the forest surrounding our home and the barely there glimmers of light emerging over the horizon.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
She sits down beside me. The steps aren’t very wide, and I take up a good portion of them. So, there isn’t much space between us. “Like at all?”
I shake my head. It’s something I’ve dealt with for years. It comes in waves. At times, I’ll be able to sleep just fine, other times, it’s much harder. This last week has been tough.
When my mind has something to fixate on, I have a hard time shoving it aside long enough to get some decent sleep. And the very thing my mind hasn’t been able to let go of just sat down beside me.
Not only has this robbed me of much-needed sleep, but it’s made guilt claw through me. She’s with Cole. I shouldn’t be thinking about her the way I have.
“I’m sorry. That sucks,” she says, reminding me how close she is.
I appreciate that she’s just here listening to me, not trying to shove solutions down my throat. Sometimes you just need someone to listen.
A light breeze drifts over us, making her shiver. I dart inside, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch. I drape it around her before sitting back at her side.
The more logical option would have been to take her back inside, but I don’t want this moment to be over quite yet.
Times like this make it hard to remember that she’s Cole’s. I would never do anything with Riley, but there’s just something about this girl that’s different.
She’s different in the best way possible. She makes me feel like maybe… things could be different. I could be different.
She is Cole’s girl, though, so I will soak up all these little moments I get with her. If I keep telling myself it’s enough, maybe I’ll actually believe it one of these days.
The front door swinging open draws me back from the past. Riley walks through the front door with several bags slung over her shoulders, holding what I assume is her filming equipment for the podcast.
“Hey,” she says with a wide smile. She gently sets all her bags down before making her way over to us.
“How did it go?” Theo asks as she plops down on the couch between us.
“It was amazing.” There’s a dreamy look on her face. “Hearing their love story was exactly what I needed today. Everyone deserves to find love like that.”
This is why her podcast is so successful. She believes in the stories she’s telling, and it bleeds through to every person listening or watching for an hour-long interlude from their everyday lives.
“I’m glad it went well,” Theo says.
Riley’s hand flies to her stomach when it audibly rumbles. She cringes. “I think I forgot to eat lunch.”
How does one forget to eat lunch? I’m pretty sure that since the day my mom introduced real food into my diet, I haven’t missed a single meal. Forgetting to eat makes zero sense. I would never be too preoccupied with anything to forget about my stomach’s need for nourishment.
“I think that’s our cue to move on with our evening’s activities,” I say.
She turns her head to look at me. “And what kind of activities might those be?” There’s a flirtatious look in her eyes.
“Not those kinds of activities, you minx.” I stand from the couch. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We just want to feed you.” She lets me help her stand and guide her into the kitchen.
“You’re going to feed me?”
“Yes,” Theo says, starting to pull ingredients from the fridge. “Chicken Alfredo.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
Theo hums his agreement as he pulls out the pots and pans we will need.
She shoves up the sleeves of her shirt and quickly washes her hands. I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speakers we installed throughout the main living area.
I contemplate what playlist I want to go with, but end up settling on eighties dance hits. Riley’s head starts bobbing to the beat as Michael Jackson’s voice filters through the speakers.
Theo has started trimming the chicken breasts, while Riley’s chopping up fresh broccoli. I step in behind her, kissing her neck.
“Can you show me how to cut it?”
“The broccoli?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
She laughs quietly, setting the knife on the counter. She slides around me like a snake until she’s standing behind me. Her laugh is louder this time.
“This would be a lot easier if I were taller than you.”
“It would be terrifying if you were that tall,” Theo says.
“You could also be shorter than me for this to work,” Riley proposes.
“I’m pretty sure that would be equally as scary,” Theo says, smirking over at us.
She peeks around my side so she can see everything on the counter. I pick up the knife, holding the head of broccoli just like she was. “Now what?”
Her soft hand settles over mine on the knife. She presses on my hand, showing me where to cut. I get the hang of it after the first few cuts, but I keep acting like I don’t remember.
Sue me for wanting to keep her hand on mine and her body pressed against my backside. It’s kind of like I get to be the little spoon, but while we’re vertical and cooking.
When all the broccoli has been cut into even little tree-looking pieces, I can’t keep up the act anymore. Her body heat disappears, and I immediately want her back.
She’s not gone for long, though, because she comes back holding the pot with the steaming rack inside. Together, we get the broccoli steaming on the stove and the fettuccine noodles cooking in the water. Theo had already started boiling.
“I Want to Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston starts playing. Riley lets out a tiny squeal. She moves to the opposite side of the island, where there’s more room, and more room is needed for the way she dances around.
There’s a sexiness to the way she dances so freely. There’s a sexiness to the way she lives her whole life.
Theo and I try to pretend like we’re doing anything else in the kitchen, but we can’t seem to do much other than stare at her. When the song ends, she leans against Theo’s side. She looks up at him breathlessly.
“Enjoy the show?” she asks him.
“Always,” he says.
“You sure?”
“If you’re the one putting on the show, I will enjoy every second of it.”
She smiles, wrapping him in a tight hug. He tries to wiggle away when she smacks alternating kisses to his cheeks… over and over again.
I know he secretly loves it, even if he’s acting like he wants her to stop. He might not love anyone else to be all over him like that, but this is Riley.
The same Riley that he has been partially in love with for eight years.
Theo is amazing at a lot of things, but hiding how he feels about her has never been one of them.