6. BAILEY #2
Knox leans down to kiss Emerson, quick and private enough that I look away, because I have boundaries even if no one else at this table does. Nico isn’t with them tonight, but Beck must be home with the kids because Sienna’s phone lights up with a text that makes her smile.
Finn steps closer to my chair.
“Sutton,” he says.
“O’Malley.”
His eyes drop briefly to the scarf around my neck. “New?”
“Craft fair casualty.”
“Looks nice.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
He smiles, and I hate that I have to remind myself not to smile back too quickly.
Ty looks around the table, sees the drinks, the half-eaten fries, and the very specific silence of women who were discussing something before men arrived.
His eyes narrow. “What did we interrupt?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Something,” Jade says.
I turn on her. “Traitor.”
She takes a calm sip of her drink. “Just trying to help.”
Ty brightens. “Excellent. I walked in at the right time.”
“No, you didn’t,” Emerson says. “You walked in just in time to be nosy.”
“Same thing.”
“No argument,” Dylan says, pulling a chair from a neighboring table and turning it backward before sitting.
Jade leans back, and I know before she speaks that she is about to become a problem.
“Bailey has a wedding coming up.”
I stare at her.
She continues as if I am not mentally setting her on fire. “Family wedding. In San Francisco.”
Finn’s gaze shifts back to me. “Fancy?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Open bar?”
“Most likely.”
“Then my condolences to the venue.”
I refuse to laugh.
Ty points at me. “Why was this serious?”
“It wasn’t,” I say.
“Her ex will be there,” Priya says.
“Priya.”
She lifts both hands. “You already told the table. The table expanded.”
“The table did not request expansion.”
Finn’s expression changes by less than a breath.
Anyone else would miss it.
I don’t.
The humor stays in place, but his attention sharpens. “Ex?”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say.
“Those words rarely mean that.”
“They do when I say them.”
Jade snorts.
I ignore her.
Finn’s eyes stay on me, and for once, he doesn’t turn it into an immediate joke. “Is he a problem?”
The question is simple. Quiet under the table noise.
Not, did he break your heart? Not, should I be jealous? Not anything that makes him the center of it.
Just “Is he a problem?”
I hate how much I appreciate that.
“No,” I say. “He’s not a problem.”
Emerson gives me a look, then wisely says nothing.
“He’s annoying,” Jade adds.
I close my eyes for half a second. “He’s not even that.”
“He is,” Emerson says.
I open my eyes. “I thought you were being wise and silent.”
“I gave it a try.”
Finn’s mouth twitches, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine. “What kind of annoying?”
“The polished kind,” Jade says.
“The kind who thinks condescension counts as concern,” Emerson adds.
I shift in my chair. “This is becoming a review panel.”
“Great,” Ty says.
“You are not on the panel,” I tell him.
“I could be. I have thoughts.”
“Keep them to yourself.”
Finn leans one hip against the edge of the table, still watching me in a way that makes the room feel slightly too warm. “You need a date?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Jade says.
“No,” I repeat.
Finn’s brows lift. “That sounded settled.”
“It is.”
“It is not,” Priya says.
I gesture toward her. “Temporary respect lasted, what, three minutes?”
She checks an imaginary watch. “About that.”
The women are enjoying this. The men are enjoying this. Ty looks like someone handed him a live grenade and a microphone.
Finn, though, is quieter than I expect.
He doesn’t jump in with the obvious jokes. Doesn’t make some crude comment about showing up in a suit and ruining my ex’s evening. Doesn’t offer himself like it’s a punchline.
He waits, which is somehow worse.
I look at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking you’d be a great wedding date.”
His smile returns, slow and unfair. “I would be an excellent wedding date.”
Ty points at him. “That is actually true.”
“Not helping,” I say.
Finn ignores him. “I clean up well. I can talk to relatives. I know when to smile and when to shut up. I’m good on a dance floor if the situation becomes dire.”
“A bold résumé,” Jade says.
“It’s accurate,” Jace adds.
Gavin, who has been standing silently near the end of the table, says, “He does own a suit.”
Everyone looks at him.
Gavin shrugs. “Relevant.”
Finn points at him. “Thank you for your support.”
“I didn’t say it was a good suit.”
The table laughs, and Finn takes the hit with a grin, but his eyes come back to mine right after.
“I’m serious,” he says.
That shuts up more of the table than I expect.
I wish it didn’t affect me, but it does.
The word serious sounds different in Finn’s mouth. Like he knows it isn’t his usual territory and stepped into it anyway.
“You don’t have to be,” I say.
“I know.”
“It’s a family wedding.”
“Got that.”
“In San Francisco.”
“I’ve survived cities before.”
“My ex will be there.”
“Already got that.”
“And my family will ask questions.”
“Families do enjoy questions.”
“You hate questions.”
“I hate personal questions. Other people’s personal questions are a spectator sport.”
Despite myself, I huff a laugh.
Finn’s smile softens. “Look, I’m not trying to make it weird.”
Emerson makes a small sound into her drink.
I shoot her a warning look.
Finn keeps going. “I mean, I can make it weird if that’s what you need. I have range. But I can also show up, be charming, eat expensive food, tell your aunt she looks lovely, and make sure your ex doesn’t get to stand there acting like he was the best thing that ever happened to you.”
My chest goes still.
Not tight.
Not fluttery.
Still.
Because he says it lightly enough for the table, but there’s something underneath it that isn’t light at all.
I look down at my glass.
This is exactly why Finn is dangerous.
Not because he flirts. Not because he’s hot. Not because he can smile across a room and make me forget what I was trying to prove.
Because sometimes he aims that charm like he knows exactly where the bruise is.
And for one second, I let myself picture it.
Finn in a suit beside me in a San Francisco hotel ballroom.
Finn remembering my mother’s name, shaking my uncle’s hand.
Finn leaning close during dinner to say something low enough that only I can hear.
Finn looking at Evan with that relaxed, easy confidence that would make Evan’s polished superiority feel as flimsy as it always was.
It would work.
Finn would be good at it.
Too good.
I lift my gaze. “We’re friends.”
His eyes stay on mine. “Yeah.”
“Friends don’t take friends to weddings to emotionally irritate ex-boyfriends.”
“Depends on the friendship.”
“Finn.”
The grin doesn’t disappear, but it eases back into something less showy.
“I’m offering backup,” he says. “That’s all.”
Backup.
The word works its way under my defenses in a way date never could.
Different from rescue.
Different from revenge.
Backup sounds practical. Reasonable. Safe enough to consider.
Which means it is probably none of those things.
Around us, the table is pretending not to listen now, which is insulting because every person here is absolutely listening.
I exhale. “One weekend.”
Finn’s eyes sharpen. “Yeah?”
“One wedding. As friends.”
“As friends,” he says.
“Separate rooms.”
“Obviously.”
“No flirting with my cousins.”
His mouth curves. “Define flirting.”
“Finn.”
“Right. No flirting with cousins.”
“No making up dramatic stories about how we met.”
“Restrictive, but fine.”
“No acting like this is a date.”
His gaze dips to my mouth for half a second before returning to my eyes.
It is quick.
It is also devastatingly not my imagination.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says.
Liar.
I know it.
He knows I know it.
Worst of all, I still say, “Fine.”
The table erupts, because apparently my life is now a group sport.
Jade lifts her glass. “To friendship.”
“Supportive friendship,” Emerson says, smiling into her drink like she knows exactly how much trouble I’m in.
Finn raises his beer toward me.
I pick up my glass because not doing it would make this feel more important than it is.
Our eyes meet over the rim.
And then, because he is Finn O’Malley, he adds, “Don’t worry, Sutton. I’ll behave.”
My stomach flips.
I take a sip of my drink and pretend I believe him.