Chapter 18
FINN
By the time dinner rolled around, I was ready to jump out of my skin.
I’d been on plenty of dates before, but I’d never been as nervous as I was for dinner with Daniel.
We’d already sucked each other off. I’d eaten his fiancé’s cunt in front of him.
Hell, if I went all the way back to the beginning, we’d already had sex.
Daniel had seen me at my worst, but maybe that was why it felt so important to make a good impression this time around.
Frowning at myself in the floor-length mirror beside my bed, I texted Andrew—the least assuming of my brothers—a picture to make sure I didn’t look like I was trying too hard.
He promised me I wasn’t, then wished me luck.
Daniel said it would be easier to meet me somewhere instead of us both battling traffic to get home and get back out.
I texted him the address of a restaurant in Beverly Hills, and he promised to meet me there at seven.
He was four minutes early, which was fine because even with all my fretting, I’d been ten minutes early.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” he said, lifting onto his toes to brush a kiss against the corner of my mouth.
“You’re early.”
“You’re earlier,” he teased, sinking back down onto his heels.
“A better version of myself than I used to be,” I promised, sliding one hand against the small of his back and turning us both toward the door. “Ready?”
“Lead the way.”
The restaurant was loud and crowded…and running behind. Our seven p.m. reservation was looking more like seven forty-five at best, but Daniel took the delay in stride. He reached behind himself and covered my hand with his.
“Let’s go wander,” he suggested. “Get a drink. Get some air.”
The hostess promised to text when our table was ready, so Daniel and I set out in search of better scenery.
The hands against his back turned into joined fingers against the outside of our thighs, and it felt so good to hold someone’s hand.
Even better to have mine held in return.
I gave Daniel a squeeze, smiling at nothing when he squeezed me back.
I pulled him to a stop in front of a bougie-looking bar with plaid wallpaper and velvet barstools. The front door was open and soft jazz drifted out onto the sidewalk.
“Fancy some brown liquor?” he asked. “It looks like a place that would have a lot of it.”
“You know I’m weak for a good Manhattan.”
Daniel pulled me inside and found a small table in front of the window, a round thing with two massive high-backed chairs facing each other.
It was not a practical seating situation, but the vibe of the bar was impeccable.
I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me that the chairs made it difficult to hold hands.
I’d make sure to touch Daniel more during dinner, maybe after.
We sat down and we ordered, admiring the ambiance while the bartender mixed two Manhattans for us.
“Sophie would hate this place,” I said, and Daniel laughed, resting his head against the back of the chair. “She would.”
“Too claustrophobic.”
I didn’t know a single thing about Sophie’s design preferences, but I’d been in her home…
in their home, and it was the absolute opposite of whatever this bar wanted to be.
Sophie leaned into statement colors but favored open space.
Marshall would have called her a minimalist, but that felt reductive to me.
“She does love a good open floor plan,” Daniel agreed, lips twisting into a soft smile.
“How was cake tasting?”
Daniel settled both hands on his stomach and patted his absolutely flat belly like there was a baby inside of it.
“It’s hard to say no to lemon curd.”
I hummed, filing the information away. I would have pegged Sophie as the tart fruit dessert type. Daniel had always struck me as a chocolate man, gluttonous and rich.
“Is that your frontrunner?”
“Sophie’s,” he said, and I felt vindicated, a flash of pride bursting in the center of my chest. “I liked the chocolate.”
Our drinks arrived, and I held mine in the air until Daniel clinked the rim of his glass against mine. I moved the cherry skewer out of the way and took a sip, grateful for the warm burn of the liquor down my throat.
“Good thing you can have both,” I said, talking not just about the cake.
“Very good,” he agreed, gaze focused on me.
“Any progress on a date?”
“Nothing concrete, but probably the fall. Maybe September.”
“It’s a nice time of year.”
Daniel sipped his drink thoughtfully. “Sophie said she’d like if the three of us could spend some time together this weekend.”
I imagine she had, after the text message I’d sent her at lunch.
I didn’t know what came over me. It wasn’t like me to be so bold, at least, not anymore.
Before Neil and Annette, I threw caution to the wind with most things, but the hurt of their betrayal still lingered, still colored every choice I made.
“She mentioned it at lunch. I told her my calendar was open.”
“And she left it to me to finalize the plans.”
I leaned forward, elbows braced on my knees with my drink hanging loosely in my fingers. Daniel’s legs were spread, slim thighs pressed against the soft material of his black chinos. He watched me quietly, lips barely parted but chest heaving with every breath.
“You’re submissive to her,” I said softly. “Right?”
Daniel’s cheeks darkened. “I’m not sure that’s a word I’d use.”
“But it fits? You take care of her needs, you do as you’re told.” I paused, mouth going dry. “You worship her.”
“You worship her,” he said back to me. “I saw your face when you had her spread out on the dining room table.”
What a dangerous thing, to be seen so clearly.
And that thought was the one that brought my past with Daniel into sharp and unavoidable focus.
It was disingenuous to move forward with him or with Sophie until I’d had a chance to clear the air over our previous coupling.
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Neil and Annette, but Daniel deserved the truth and I wanted to give it to him.
Even if it would hurt.
“Uhm, I’d like to say something and if you could just let me ramble through it until I get it all out?”
I leaned back in my seat and Daniel moved forward, our positions a mirror from before.
“Okay.”
I took a healthy swallow of my drink and set the glass down, rubbing the condensation off my fingers and onto my thighs.
I’d settled on a pair of gray pants and an orangish button-up.
I’d picked something as close to marigold as I could find because it was Sophie’s favorite, and because for as much as I wanted to keep the two of them separate in my head—and my heart—it was impossible.
Daniel and Sophie were a package deal, as they should be, and that was what I wanted, that was one of the things I liked about them.
I knew one partner would not be enough for me, I wanted two, I wanted it all.
Wanted everything.
I’d met Daniel on my lunch break, months before.
Neil and Annette were in the middle of one of their fights, and I’d just had a midday drink with Neil.
He was done with her, he’d promised, then he’d begged me to take him home and fuck him.
We’d argued, because I’d fallen for that line before, and he’d stormed out of the bar and left me with the tab.
I was angry at him, and I was horny for him, and then I’d run into Smith with Riggs on my way out the door and I’d been miserable to them both.
After almost ruining both of those relationships, I decided a half-day of work was enough and I headed to the liquor store to get a bottle of scotch to take home with me.
That was where I met Daniel.
Gorgeous, happy, friendly Daniel. And he’d flirted with me in the most perfect way. He was everything I wanted Neil to be, even when he smiled up at me and asked for my phone number. I gave it to him, invited him over, and by the time he arrived, I’d had far too much to drink.
“I should start by apologizing for the situation I put you in the first time we met. I was not in a good head space, and it was not a good day. I shouldn’t have let you come over, and I certainly shouldn’t have kissed you.
You were…you were so understanding and so gracious with me, and I made a fool of myself.
I still don’t know why you answered when I called you two days later. ”
I didn’t dare look at him to see his face or I’d lose the courage to keep talking, to keep remembering.
“The people I’d been with had taken advantage of me. They hurt me pretty bad, and then I turned around and took advantage of you. I used you to make myself feel better,” I went on. “And that was wrong and I’m sorry for it.”
“Finn.”
I shook my head, swallowing hard.
“Finn, listen.” Daniel tapped his fingers against the table and when he lifted his hand, my gaze followed. He stared at me with so much understanding and sympathy I wanted to be sick over it. I certainly didn’t deserve his empathy.
“You said you’d let me ramble.”
“Ramble, sure. Self-deprecate, no.”
I clenched my jaw and nodded.
“I wasn’t looking for anything important then,” Daniel said gently. “Sophie was getting ready to move, and I didn’t know what the future of our relationship was going to look like. The fact you were a mess honestly made it easier for me. I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”
I winced, snatching my drink from the table and finishing it off. The cherries weren’t the good dark ones, instead the cloyingly sweet neon-colored ones, so I let them marinate in the ice at the bottom of my glass.
“But by the time things ended between us, I was sad over it,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sad because I knew there was someone so special and kind and deserving beneath the facade you were presenting.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again, and fuck was I.
“This feels kind of like fate, don’t you think?”
I rolled my eyes at him, and Daniel laughed.
“I’m not sure I believe in fate,” I said.
“Well, there’s obviously something at play to bring us together before and back together now.” Daniel chewed on his lower lip and I allowed myself to look. “I liked you then, Finn. I like you now. I’d like to keep liking you, if that’s all right.”
“Obviously.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Do you like me?”
“Obviously.”
“And Sophie?”
There was no secret about my interest or my intent with either of them at this point.
“So what can I tell her about our plans for the weekend?”
I snorted, a laugh building in the back of my throat.
It was unfair of him to let me off the hook so readily.
But Daniel had always made things easy, even when I didn’t deserve it.
At the same time, my phone vibrated in my pocket and I guessed without looking it was the restaurant letting me know our table had finally become available.
“You can tell her she’s the boss.” I jerked my chin toward him. “Whatever she says goes. I’m free from Friday night at ten to Monday morning at eight. Now finish your drink, our table is ready.”