Chapter 7 #3
“Thank you for understanding and for a fun evening.”
“Thanks for braving the McCarthys to come with me. What time are you off tomorrow?”
“I close at seven.”
“I’ll make you dinner.” He gave her his address. “Come whenever you’re free.”
“Okay.”
Finn kissed her again, lightly, holding back the unexplainable craving for more that overtook him whenever she was near.
“I’ll wait until you’re locked in.” He forced himself to let her go, to hold the door for her and to walk away when he heard the click of the lock.
On the ride home, he thought it through from every angle, trying to make sense of the powerful emotions he was experiencing for the first time.
This was why Riley had made a fool of himself over Nikki, why Mac had ditched his life in Miami for Maddie, why Shane smiled all the time since meeting Katie.
This was why Luke rushed home to Sydney and their daughter, Lily, every night after work.
If they felt even a fraction of the things he experienced when he was with Chloe or even when he thought of her, then it was no wonder they were so happy.
He wanted that. A year ago, he would’ve said he wasn’t ready, but he felt differently now.
Maybe it was the time with his cousins who were settling into marriages and families, or maybe it was having a front-row seat when Riley fell so hard for Nikki.
But he felt ready for something more significant now.
Funny how he’d thought he needed to go home to find it.
His stomach actually hurt at the thought of upending his plans, of calling Clint to say he’d changed his mind, of putting down roots on Gansett Island.
He’d come for a freaking wedding and ended up staying for a few months that turned into two years.
That’s not how a mature adult made life decisions.
Big Mac liked to say that life was what happened when you were busy making other plans.
Driving into town on dark, winding roads, Finn laughed to himself.
If that wasn’t the truth. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and his euphoria dissipated when he thought about how he was going to have to disappoint Missy.
He felt like a total asshole for letting it go on as long as it had and for raising her hopes when he didn’t feel the slightest bit of excitement about getting back together with her.
He’d been indulging the convenient rather than seeking something more meaningful, and he just couldn’t do that to either of them.
When he got home, he opened a beer, took it to the sofa and pulled out his phone, determined to take care of this now before it went on any longer.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey. This is a nice surprise.”
“How’re you doing?”
“I’ll be better when you get back.”
“So, Missy… About that. We need to talk. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“About what?”
Finn cringed. He was bungling the fuck out of this. “I don’t want you to think we’re going to pick up where we left off.”
Total silence.
“A lot of time has gone by, and we’ve both changed. I’ve changed. I want different things.”
“What things do you want?” she asked, her tone frigid.
“I don’t know yet, but I don’t want to go backward. We both need to move forward, and we can’t do that if we’re holding on to the past.”
“Where the hell is this coming from, Finn? Did you meet someone else? Is that it?”
“Yes—and no. I did meet someone, but nothing has happened with her.” Nothing except everything. “It’s not about her. It’s about moving on. We’ve been apart for two years and have barely seen each other in all that time. Don’t you think if we were meant to be, we would’ve wanted more than that?”
“I did want more than that. Every time I suggested coming there to see you, you had some sort of excuse. Have you had someone else all this time you were stringing me along?”
“No, I haven’t, and I never strung you along. We weren’t together while I was here. You know that as well as I do. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“All I know is you went to your cousin’s wedding and never came back, and the whole time you’ve been there, you’ve continued to talk to me and to give me just enough to keep me hoping you’d eventually come back to me.”
“I talked to you because we’re friends. We’ve always been friends.”
“I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Finn.”
Her outburst shocked him. “Missy—”
“Save it. I’ve got to go, but know this—we are not over. Not by a long shot.”
The line went dead before he could reply.
For a long time afterward, he replayed the conversation in his mind, going over everything she’d said and trying to understand how he’d misled her.
They were not together. They hadn’t been a couple in almost two years.
Yes, they still talked frequently, texted and had planned to see each other when he got home.
But he hadn’t made her any promises. That much he knew for certain.
“Fuck,” he muttered, taking a long draw from the beer bottle. Her final words echoed through his mind, filling him with dread. What had she meant by that? And what did she plan to do?