Chapter 10 #2
“They don’t call you ‘Steady’ when your hands shake durin’ a basic flight readiness test,” he whispered, his careful control starting to crack.
“When your depth perception is shot and you can’t remember the radio frequencies you’ve used for over a decade.
When the thought of putting on your helmet and getting back in a cockpit makes you break out in a cold sweat. ”
The pain in his voice made my chest ache and my throat tight.
I shifted up on my elbow so I could see his face properly, my fingers finding the scar that bisected his left eyebrow and disappeared into his hairline only to reemerge across his ear.
I understood what his hair and beard were hiding now.
“You survived something that could have killed you. Should have killed you. That doesn’t make you less than who you were. ”
“Doesn’t it?” Glassy eyes met mine, and I saw the question he’d been carrying before he voiced it. “What do you do when the thing that defined you for most of your adult life just… crashes and burns?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” the words came out before I’d fully formed the thought, but they were still true. I shifted closer, my hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb brushing along the edge of another scar. “Maybe not in the same way, but I know that feeling.”
His eyes searched mine, questioning. I had to look away, so I traced his scars.
“I was thirty-seven when I was diagnosed with ADHD,” I said quietly.
“Shortly before everything with Graham happened. Thirty-seven years of thinking I was just scattered, or difficult, or lazy, sometimes stupid and clever at the same time, or that my brain was broken in some fundamental way that I needed to hide from everyone because nobody understood.” I traced the line of his jaw with my fingertip.
“Tabitha, my assistant, was the one who finally said something. Told me she’d been watching me for months, seeing all these patterns and signs, and maybe I should talk to someone. ”
Finn’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. I nestled down against his chest again.
“And suddenly everything I thought I knew about myself got turned upside down. All those careful systems I’d built, all the ways I’d learned to function.
Turns out they weren’t character flaws I was managing.
They were accommodations I’d created instinctively.
” I took a shaky breath. “But then I had to figure out who I really was underneath all of that. If my hypercontrol wasn’t me being uptight, if my need for routines wasn’t me being inflexible, if my brain going a million miles an hour was something I could never fully control. .. then who was I even?”
My voice had gone hoarse by the end, and I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand. I felt his fingers in my hair again, tilting my head back. I managed to meet his eyes as he brushed a thumb across my cheek. “What did you do?”
“Started over, I guess,” I shrugged, hitching a wry smile. “Piece by piece. Some days I still don’t know. But I think maybe that’s okay. Maybe we don’t have to try to be the same person we were before. Maybe we get to decide who we become next.”
The morning light had shifted, growing warmer and brighter, but neither of us moved to acknowledge it. This felt too important and too fragile to break with the pressure of the world just yet.
“You know what else I think?” my voice barely above a whisper.
“What?”
“I think ‘Steady’ is still in there. Just different now. Not the guy who was unflappable and could save everyone else, but maybe the guy who continues on because he knows what it means to need saving.”
For a long moment, we simply existed together. My hand settled over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath my palm. His fingers traced slow patterns along my spine, touch light enough to be soothing rather than distracting.
“I’m used to easy physical affection,” he kissed the top of my head. “Grew up that way. I never even thought it might set someone on edge.”
“With you, it’s nice,” I repeated, same as before. It was nice.
The morning sounds of the neighborhood drifted through my bedroom window, the neighbor’s dog barking.
6:47. A car door closing somewhere down the street, the distant hum of early commuters.
Normal sounds of the world waking up around us, but they felt far away from this cocoon of safety we’d created.
I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the feeling of being completely still with another person.
No performance, no managing, no trying to be anything other than exactly what I was in this moment.
When was the last time I’d felt this kind of peace?
Not the exhausted collapse that sometimes passed for relaxation, but actual, bone-deep calm.
Finn’s breathing had evened out, and for a moment I wondered if he’d drifted back to sleep. But then his hand stilled on my back, and I felt him press another kiss to the top of my head.
“Thank you,” he murmured against my hair. “For understanding.”
I shifted just enough to look at him, finding his eyes clear and grateful. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
The silence stretched out again, comfortable and complete. Outside, I could hear a garbage truck making its way down the street, but even that ordinary sound couldn’t break the spell of this moment.
My phone buzzed against the nightstand, sharp and insistent. An unwelcome pin meant to pop our bubble and force us back to reality.
Not 6:47.
It buzzed again. And then a third time.
I sighed against Finn’s chest, reluctant to move but knowing that pattern meant something needed my attention. “I should probably...”
“Let me,” Finn’s arm stretched over me, long enough to reach the phone without making me shift away from him.
The movement pressed me deeper into the mattress, his weight compressing against me in a way that felt more like bliss than being trapped.
I melted into the sensation, the sublime pressure making my nervous system finally, completely quiet.
It let up as he moved back and I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering at the loss. He handed me the phone, settling back with me still tucked against his side.
Three texts from Tabitha, sent in rapid succession:
Tabitha: Oliver wants to discuss the Titan research first thing.
Tabitha: Jordan called in late. Casey’s handling the dev stand-up but he’s stressed.
Tabitha: You don’t have to be here at 8 but wanted to give you a heads up in case you want to prep.
I stared at the screen, reality crashing back in waves. Thursday morning. Work. The acquisition offer I’d been trying not to think about. Fifty-three employees whose jobs depended on decisions I didn’t want to make.
“Work?” Finn asked, reading my expression.
“Yeah.” I glanced at the time display. 7:28. “I need to...” I sat up and started typing, then stopped, glancing down at him. “Actually, no. I’m texting in late.”
His eyebrows rose, a small chuckle escaping him as he rolled onto his back. “You sure?”
“When’s the last time I took a morning off?” I was already typing. “Besides, I got the best sleep of my life and I got to know you better.”
Me: running late this morning. i’ll fill you in later. ask if oliver can meet after 9.
Me: or handle via email if not urgent.
Tabitha: No problem. Everything is manageable. See you when you get in.
I set the phone aside and settled back against Finn’s chest. “There. Handled.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I traced the edge of his tattoo again. “Icarus.”
“Flew too close to the sun,” he replied, dry humor seeping back into his voice.
“Flew too close to the sun,” I repeated.
“Will probably do it again unless someone takes his wings.”
“We’ll just have to come up with something more interesting here on the ground.”
“Like the performance of the century.”
“Or at least the decade so far.”
Finn barked out a laugh, jostling me before starting to sit up.
“Alright, you comedian,” he set me away with a grin. “You should go get ready for work and I should get ready for sitting around on your couch or bumming around Park City, or whatever it is unemployed mortals do after their wings have melted.”
I got up, smoothing the covers. Finn rolled off the other side and did the same.
“Hey,” I stood and looked at him, a wild thought occurring to me. “Would you want to come to work with me instead?”
Interest flashed across his features.
“We have a giant cardboard cutout of Dom’s character that he signed.”
“Well now I have to go,” he spread his arms and shrugged as if there was no other answer. “Shower?” He pointed down the hall.
“The towels in there are fresh. Assuming Enzo isn’t up yet and hasn’t used them all, you should be good.”
“Thanks,” he turned to leave. We both froze as we heard Enzo’s door open. It didn’t take long before he’d wandered into my room wearing one of his ridiculous kaftans.
“Hey Sash,” he yawned, stretching. “Hey Finn.” We stared at him, still motionless as if it somehow meant he wouldn’t see us. Instead, he looked between us, recognition dawning.
“Wait, does this mean...?” He pointed back and forth, and I stepped forward, ready to vigorously defend Finn’s honor, though part of me wished it had gone the other way. “I could have slept in the big bed!” I released the breath I’d been holding.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Finn was quick to answer.
“What do you mean?” Enzo put his hands on his hips. “Are you telling me you didn’t both just sleep in your clothes on top of Sasha’s bed? Straight people. So boring.”
“We actually need your help,” I refused to acknowledge his admittedly funny dig.
Enzo’s eyes lit up like I’d just told him Christmas was coming early. “Help with what exactly?” But the way he perked up suggested he already had suspicions.
“We’re fake dating,” Finn responded bluntly. “As of last night.”
“Mama Mía!” Enzo clapped his hands together, then pressed them to his heart like he was trying to contain his joy. “This is the best news I’ve gotten all year. Better than the engagement, better than the movie deal, better than...”
“Better than your own engagement?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, tied for best news,” he waved his hand dismissively, then pointed between us. “But this! This is perfect! You two are perfect! I am a genius!”
“You’re taking credit for this?” Finn asked, amused.
“Of course I’m taking credit! Who do you think made the declaration last night?
You weren’t the ones brave enough to blurt it out, were you?
No,” Enzo was practically vibrating with satisfaction.
“Without my perfectly timed announcement, Mister ‘Overcompensating for Something’ would still be trying to set Finn up with whatever plastic fantastic nightmare girl he’d last encountered. ”
Finn crossed his arms and scratched at his chin as he examined Enzo.
“What do you say, darlin’?” He turned to me. “Do we let him have this one?”
“Let me have this one?” Enzo’s voice grew shrill.
“Let me have this one?” He flopped dramatically onto my bed, sprawling across the covers.
“I am an artist of love. Cupid with better hair. And even if my declaration last night was accidental, that’s hardly a reason to debate ‘letting me have this one.’ I personally. ..”
“Enzo,” I interrupted. “We need you and Dom to help us keep it believable. You’re our inside men.”
He sat up, his expression shifting to something more serious, though no less delighted. “Sister, I would lie to the Pope himself if it meant keeping you happy. What do you need?”
“Just... go along with it when we’re around people. We’re still figuring out the details ourselves.”
“How long have you been ‘together?’” He made air quotes, grinning.
“About a month,” Finn answered. “Started just before your engagement party but kept it quiet.”
“Amazing. Very believable,” Enzo nodded sagely. He pressed his hands together under his chin, regarding us with his phony serious stare. “Who made the first move?”
“I... uh...” My stomach flopped. We already hadn’t gone deep enough, sidetracked by our individual traumas. My mind began to whirl around everything else we’d missed.
“I did,” Finn offered quickly. I shot him a grateful smile.
“Love at first sight?”
“She made me work for it.”
Enzo stood up and walked over to Finn with a menacing look, betrayed only by the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Have you slept together? Did you use protection? Did you have consent?”
“Enzo!” I blurted out, my face burning. To Finn’s credit, he had the wherewithal to also look aghast. “Nobody is going to ask us that.”
“Dom might,” he turned toward me.
“Dom’s not going to ask that.”
“No, no, he’s right,” Finn’s face now looked as hot as mine felt.
Enzo spun around again. “Now, someone needs to shower because we have a performance to maintain, and Finn smells like he slept in his clothes.”
“Because I did sleep in my clothes,” Finn replied flatly, obviously over the theatrics as much as I was.
“Details,” Enzo waved him toward the door. “Go. Cleanse yourself. I need to interrogate my sister about her feelings.”
Finn glanced at me, and I nodded. “Go ahead. I can handle an audience with the queen.”
As soon as Finn disappeared down the hall, Enzo sat down on my bed again and fixed me with a penetrating stare he’d inherited from his father. “Alexandra Joan Archer.”
“Enzo Ignacio Martinez-Zanetti.”
“Are you happy?”
His question caught me off guard. “I... what do you mean?” I sputtered. “It’s an arrangement to help both of us out. It’ll get Mom off my back and give Finn a little breathing room with, I assume, Lou.”
“But when you woke up in his arms this morning, were you happy?”
My cheeks grew hot as my heart threw itself against my ribs. “That doesn’t... how did you... why does that...”
Enzo’s voice went softer. “I haven’t seen you look this content in years, mi hermana. Maybe ever.”