Chapter 11 #2
Only Finn would tell me sex in a bathroom with a supermodel had been bland. He swallows hard and stares out over the river.
“She was pregnant, Chess.”
I stumble on a crack, and he tightens his grip on my hand to steady me. “What?” I croak.
Finn’s jaw bunches. “From high school out, they warn us about knocking women up. Never believe them when they say they’re
on the pill. Always wear a condom. Today’s screw can be tomorrow’s screwup.”
“Lovely.”
“But true,” he says with a shrug. “I wore the condom. And I wasn’t so naive that I didn’t ask for a paternity test. Britt
agreed. She didn’t want money. She has more than enough of her own. She just wanted me to know because it was the right thing
to do.”
I suddenly feel small and petty for being jealous of the woman.
Finn lets go of me and shoves his fists into his pockets as we slowly walk along. “Tests came back. I was the father.”
“How . . . ? I never heard a word of this in the press. And James watches SportsCenter religiously.”
“We kept it quiet and were fortunate that there were no leaks. Jake is the only friend on my side who knows. Well, him and
my family. They know, too.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Anyway, I manned up, offered to marry her—”
My stomach turns with a violent lurch. If he’s married . . .
“But Britt said no.”
Relief and panic war within my chest. He could have been married. I’d have never known him this way.
“We hammered out how to handle custody, things like that . . .” He trails off and stares down at his shoes as we walk.
“So, you have a child.” I can do the math. The idea that a little Finn offspring is somewhere out there stuns me. God. A father.
“Five months in,” he croaks, “Britt miscarried.”
“Oh, Finn.”
He stands hunched against the wind, his expression blank. I touch his arm and find it vibrating with tension.
“I’m so sorry, Finn.”
His nod is vague, the barest lift of his chin. “We’d just found out she was a girl, you know?”
My fingers curl around his arm. “Finn . . .”
He takes a deep breath as if he’s sucking all his pain back into himself, and his shoulders straighten.
When he looks up, his jaw is hard and set.
“The whole time Britt was pregnant, I told myself that this is what real men do. They take care of their mistakes.” He snorts, a broken sound.
“That’s what I thought of my baby as, Chess. A mistake. My baby girl.”
His eyes well, and I can’t stand still anymore. I step into his space and hug him tight. He instantly hugs me back, squeezing
with enough force to bruise, his face burrowed in my hair. For long moments, he shudders, fighting for control, while I press
my palm to his back and coo nonsensical noises under my breath.
His rough voice is close to my ear. “I didn’t even know how much I wanted her until I saw her in that sonogram.” Another tremor
slams through him. “But there she was, ten fingers and ten toes, flailing around like she was running in place, and I wanted
her. I wanted her and then she was gone.”
“Oh, Finn.” My heart breaks for him. For Britt. I’ve never been in their situation, but I know how it is to have something
you never thought you wanted ripped away from you. How that loss changes your life and haunts your future.
I think about that irony, and a deep sorrow washes through me.
I don’t know what to do for Finn except keep holding him. But he doesn’t allow it for long. Soon enough, he pulls away and
stands tall. The rims of his eyes are red, but he’s tucked away his anguish. I’ve done the same thing so many times, a part
of me admires how well he hides himself. The other part of me knows you can’t heal that way and wants to comfort him longer.
“Britt went home to Sweden. She didn’t want to see me. And, frankly, she reminded me of . . . everything, and I was glad she
went.”
“Was yesterday the first time you’d seen her since?”
He nods. “Shocked the shit out of me.”
I feel myself growing distant, as if I’m breathing through layers of cotton wool.
I can’t shake the sensation that I’ve lost something I didn’t know I had.
All this time, I’d thought of Finn as a shallow bowl.
Not stupid by any means, but not someone who had much of a life beyond football and partying.
I feel so fucking small for assuming that.
“What did she want?” I can guess. She’d looked at Finn as if he were her salvation.
I swallow back the lump in my throat. They have a history I will never understand.
Finn sighs, and we start walking again. “My mom invited her to spend the holidays with us.”
No need for him to say how he feels about that. If looks could kill, his mom would be in grave danger right about now.
“What did you tell Britt?” The idea of them spending the holidays with each other doesn’t exactly make me happy, but I have
no claim on Finn. To demand one now would be hypocritical and petty.
“That I didn’t want her there.” He winces. “I know it sounds bad, but we were never friends. Just . . . I don’t know, teammates
with a common purpose. But my mother . . . I went home after it happened. She was with me at my lowest.”
“And now you’re avoiding her?”
“Because she won’t let go of the notion that she needs to fix me.” He moves to run a hand through his hair but feels his hat
and flings his arm down. “No matter how many times I tell her that I’m okay, she keeps trying to set me up with some daughter
or friend of so-and-so, as if finding the right woman will make it all better.”
I bite my lip to hold back a smile. “Mothers can be well-meaning like that.”
He snorts. “Last time I went home, Admiral Foster’s daughters came to dinner practically every night. The both of them smiling
pleasantly, as if it were up to me to pick my favorite and take her. It was awkward as fuck. But this . . .” He lifts a hand
in exasperation. “This is too much. Not only did Mom piss me off, she embarrassed Britt.”
“So tell her that.”
“I’m ridiculously bad at telling off my mom,” he grumps.
“Well, avoiding her isn’t going to work.”
“I know that. Shit.” He scowls so darkly, the woman walking by us does a double take and quickens her step. Finn doesn’t seem
to notice. “I have to go home for Thanksmas.”
“Thanksmas?”
“It’s kind of a winter holiday catchall,” he explains with a roll of his shoulders. “When my schedule has games on or too
close to Thanksgiving and Christmas, my mom has Thanksmas on one of my bye weeks.”
“That’s adorable.”
“That’s my mom.” It’s easy to tell that, despite his disgruntlement, he misses his mom and loves her deeply. He glances down
at me. “Chess . . .”
“What?” I say, edging away. “I don’t like that look.”
Finn blinks, all innocence. “What look?”
“The same look you used the other week when you’d put my bras in the washing machine and it twisted them all to hell.”
“I was trying to be helpful.”
“As I said then, keep your helpfulness away from my bras and panties.”
A brilliant grin lights his face. I’m happy to see it. This is the Finn I know, the one who doesn’t leave me confused and
bleeding for him. “It was totally worth getting yelled at,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Were you going to ask me something?”
He sobers a bit, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Come to California with me.”
“What? For your family holiday?” I squeak like a startled mouse.
“Yes.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Come on, it’ll be fun. My family will love you. And my mother is a great cook.”
I eye him with suspicion. “What aren’t you saying?”
The lobes of his ears pinken. “Okay. While we’re there, I was thinking we could tell her that we’re together.”
I halt so fast, Finn walks a step forward before noticing to stop.
“Oh, fuck no,” I say, shaking my head.
His brows rise as if he has no fucking idea why I’d object. The liar. “Come on, it isn’t that bad.”
“It’s worse. You want to lie.” My fingers curl into a fist. “To your family.”
“Yes, I do. Because she won’t stop, Chess. Not as long as she thinks I’m this poor, brokenhearted sap who needs a woman to
mend him. It doesn’t matter what I say, she has a fucking bee in her cray-cray bonnet.”
“Well . . .”
He takes a step closer. “The press is already circulating pictures of us together. Of you living with me.”
“What?” My skin prickles with horror.
“Surprise,” he says with weak humor. “Britt told me. And I’m sorry for that, Chess. I didn’t think about them invading your
privacy.”
“It isn’t your fault.” I swipe my hand in the air as if I can push away the whole shitcake of photographs of me with Finn
being spread around like bad tabloid copy.
“Regardless, my mom follows my press religiously. She’s kind of proud that way.” His mom is adorable.
“She’ll have seen us together, which is probably why she called this morning. If I tell her we’re just friends, she won’t
believe it anyway.” Finn ducks his head and makes a sound of frustration before looking back up at me. “If we say we’re dating,
she’ll finally accept I’ve moved on with my life. And I can enjoy my mother’s company without wanting to run away screaming.”
A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. Who am I to criticize how he handles his family?
I love my parents, but they annoy me so much that I haven’t even told them about the fire. Not something I’m proud of, but not something I want to remedy, either. “So you want me to be your lady beard?”
He blows out a breath. “I want you to go home with me because I want to spend my favorite holiday with you. Life is more fun
with you in it, Chess.”
I’m in serious danger of melting into a sloppy Chess puddle. Thankfully, he keeps talking.
“But if you’re so inclined, then, yes, I would appreciate it if you could play the part of doting girlfriend for the duration.”
“You know, it never goes well when people pretend to be in a relationship for the sake of the parents,” I tell him. “It’s
rom-com law. Next thing you know, you’ll be onstage somewhere, confessing your well-meaning lies into a mic while dozens of
strangers look on.”
Wind sends strands of hair whipping around the edges of his cap, and he steps a little closer, his body blocking the cold,
as his eyes search mine. “It doesn’t have to be pretend, you know.”
My breath halts then leaves in a rush. “What?” The question is more of shock than confusion. But he answers it anyway.
“You and me. We could be real.” The blunt tip of Finn’s thumb brushes back a wild lock of my hair and then lingers along my
check. “We could stop dancing around this and enjoy each other.”
Panic claws up my chest. “Finn . . .” I try to draw in a breath. “I’m living with you . . .”
He smiles, his thumb still stroking. “Which makes things convenient.”
“No.” I cup his hand and still his touch on my cheek. “It makes it stupid.”
Finn’s expression shutters.
“Most nights, I cry myself to sleep,” I blurt out.
Finn sucks in a sharp breath, his brows knitting. “Chess—”
I hold him off when he tries to hug me. “I’m not telling you for sympathy. I barely want to admit this to myself. But losing
everything has thrown me, Finn.”
“Honey. Fuck.” His other hand cups the back of my neck with a gentle squeeze. “You should have told me.”
“I’m telling you now. Because the one bright spot in all this, the one anchor I have, is you.”
A distressed, almost angry sound leaves him, and he rests his forehead against mine. “Honey, I can’t . . .” His eyes squeeze
shut. He seems at a loss for words.
My fingers curl around his wrists, holding on. “I don’t want to risk that. Not when I feel so . . .” Lost. But I can’t say it.
I don’t have to. He pulls me close, despite my protests, and tucks me into the shelter of his chest. “It’s all right, Chester.
I’ll never push you. We’re good, yeah? Everything will be okay.”
“Don’t coddle me,” I mutter, even though I can’t find the strength to move away. “I don’t need it.”
Finn hums in his throat. “Yes, I know. You’re a total badass. But you’ve got this wrong. You’re coddling me. I have needs,
woman.”
A broken laugh escapes me. “I’m already regretting my confession.”
“Chess?”
“Yeah?” My voice is a rough mumble in his sweater.
“Shut up and let me hug you.”
With a sigh, I give up the ghost and lean fully into him because hugging Finn should be a total body experience. Despite my
weak-ass protests, he soothes the ugly jitters that have started up in my chest and belly.
I’m not certain how long we stand there. Long enough for me to grow warm and soft in his arms. Then I clear my throat. “I’ll
be your lady beard.”
Finn draws away enough to look me in the eye. I hate that his expression is strained and worried. “No,” he says. “It’s a bad
idea.”
“Well, it’s not your best,” I agree with a weak smile. “But I see the logic. If it helps your mom relax, and thus you, it’s
worth doing.”
Finn frowns, but I can see he wants to accept.
“Come on.” I nudge his shoulder. “We can do this. A couple of cuddles. I’ll tell your family how much I worship you—”
“I do like the sound of that.” With a laugh, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and turns us back down the walk.
When I first met him, I’d have never guessed he was easygoing. I know his behavior then had been caused by stress and panic.
But even so, he seems to be another person with me. There’s no bullshit with Finn, just open honesty.
He put his trust in me and revealed his pain. It isn’t something I take lightly. I wrap my arm around his waist as we walk
along. “I’m sorry about the baby, Finn.”
His step falters a bit, but he doesn’t let me go. “Yeah,” he says low. “Me, too.”
We walk a bit before his voice cuts through our silence. “It’s not going to go away for me.”
My arm slides from him as I look up. “What isn’t?”
Finn’s expression is solemn, but when he catches my eye, the corner of his lip quirks. “Wanting you.”
I’m not aware of stopping, but suddenly I’m standing still, unable to speak.
The look in his eyes is almost self-deprecating, but there’s a thread of stubbornness beneath his gentle tone. “I said I wouldn’t
push you, and I meant it. But one day, Chess, you’re going to feel safe enough to let go. And I’m going to be there to catch
you when you fall.”