8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Luna
The bartender places two flatbreads and a bowl of fries in front of me and Finn, and I refrain from inhaling everything. “I’m starving,” I say, plucking a piece of veggie-covered bread from the cutting board. The sea air and champagne have my stomach growling.
When we returned to the island, I could have cartwheeled off the boat—a high I’ll blame on animal sightings and the most phenomenal Maldives sunset imaginable. But dolphins aren’t the only things contributing to my good mood or the only things making me ravenous. Finn opened up to me in a way he never has before, and I only want more of him.
More of him talking, but also more of him .
“Should we order another to take back for everyone?” he asks.
I shake my head, my mouth full of crispy flatbread. “I texted him, but Aaron said he ordered a little room service before we docked. Sounds like most everyone is sleeping their sickness off. Hopefully they wake up feeling better.”
Finn grunts in agreement, taking a bite of his dinner. I enjoy being this close to him. We’ve stopped at the beachfront bar on the way to the villa, knowing almost the entire family has passed out and no one needs us there. During the daytime, the bar’s laid-back, open-air concept means people can walk up barefoot, clad in swimwear, and order. Super casual.
The dim glow of the evening gives this spot a different atmosphere. Save for a few candles illuminating the bar top and a dull overhead light for the bartender, darkness covers me and Finn. The other couples—two people playing footsie at their table, and another pair at the far end of the bar making out—look like silhouettes, black blobs melding into one.
Somehow, this gives us more privacy than the boat. I realize how close my leg is to Finn’s. Two and a half more inches and my knee could rest against his thigh.
“Can I ask you a question?” Finn grabs another slice of his flatbread. “’Bout what you said earlier.”
My heartbeat picks up pace. Can I kiss you? Can I touch you? Can I take you back to my room? Yes, yes, yes. I give him a seductive smile and say, “Only if I get to ask something in return.”
“Fine. What’s going on with your job?”
Oh. The crust turns dusty in my mouth. That’s not the direction I’d hoped our conversation would go. I spent the first ten minutes of the ride earlier with a gnawing in my chest. Not only out of concern for my family, but with thoughts that I should have been working, not embarking on some romantic sunset cruise with my brother’s best friend.
“Working as an entrepreneur is a lot harder than it looks,” I say.
“I get that. Not that I’m an expert, but I can look at your business plan. Offer guidance.”
“I don’t need help. I need five more of me.”
“Things aren’t slow?”
I shake my head, washing down my meal with a sip of water. “The opposite. Lots of projects, too little time.”
“That’s good. You’re in high demand.”
I agree with Finn in theory, but if I can’t keep up or deliver what my clients need, I won’t stay in demand.
“What if you—”
I make a buzzer sound. “My turn,” I say, leaning onto one elbow to close some space between us. “Do you wish you were here with someone else?”
“Like this whole trip?” he asks, his eyebrows jumping in surprise. “Or here here?”
“Mm. Both.”
“Two questions? Not sure how I feel about that.”
“Ugh, fine. Do you wish you were with someone else here here?”
“No.” He takes a moment and shifts in his seat, his body a hair closer to mine. “Nice not being the odd one out. We’re in Honeymoon Central. Everyone is coupled up.”
“Except you and me.” I throw a coy smile his way as a thread of hope weaves around my heart.
“Sure,” he says, averting his gaze to his soda. “Except you and me.”
“Would you—”
Finn holds up a hand. “I get to ask now. Why don’t you raise your prices?”
Back to business. I let out an exasperated sigh and snatch a french fry.
“Your time and services have value,” he continues. “You ever heard of scarcity mentality?”
“My turn. Do you remember when we kissed?”
Finn coughs on his last bite of crust. The bartender swings by to take some of our plates. “Thanks,” Finn says. Then he looks my way, the flicker of a candle illuminating his face with a soft warmth. “Of course I remember.” He twirls his glass on his coaster. “Happened yesterday. It’d be hard to forget. Anyway, scarcity mentality. You familiar with it?”
His obvious deflection deflates my boldness a little. “Sure, I think so.”
“Gets you thinking you have to say yes to every opportunity that comes along because you have the threat of work drying up. By raising your prices, you might have fewer clients. That’s the point. You’re talented and have buyers lined down the block. You’ll attract the people who value what you’re worth and what you deserve.”
Finn Robertson has a habit of telling me what I deserve. Here, though, he might be right.
Okay, in hindsight, he was right about Tanner too.
“And,” he goes on, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “you won’t have to work on your vacation. Think about it.”
“You sound like Aaron. I was relaxing around the pool.”
“You looked super relaxed with Photoshop open,” he says with a laugh.
I hold back my smile, annoyed that even when he’s teasing me, I enjoy it. I nudge him with my knee. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”
This sends his body still. “You’ve asked me that before.”
“Wait, what?”
He fills in the gaps about our cab ride home after Aaron’s party, how I spent five straight minutes digging through my purse for my keys and insisting I was an independent woman, and how he tucked me into bed.
“You brought it up then. About that night.”
A chill causes me to shiver. “You never said anything about that kiss to me. Ever.”
“What would I have said? You were dating Tanner by that point.”
When I’d met up with Tanner after kissing Finn, I had every intention of telling him we were done. But when he opened the door to his apartment, he had tears in his eyes. He heard through our grapevine of friends about my Friday activities, and he declared he was so torn up over me kissing some random guy at a bar that he lost sleep. That man twisted my resolve into guilt. Seeing him so upset, down on his knees, and promising me he would change, I’d forgotten all the grief he’d put me through. Tanner wanted to be with me, and that was what I’d desired for six months—of course I agreed to date him.
But every time I saw Finn, I thought of that kiss.
“Why did you agree to play that game with me?”
“You’d had some drinks.” His thigh bounces up and down like he’s nervous. “You running off and kissing some random guys sounded, I don’t know. Unsafe. Better to help you win that game of yours than see you get hurt.”
“Oh,” I say, masking the disappointment in my voice as best as I can. “That’s the only reason?”
His brow cocks. “Whose turn is it to ask questions?”
“I want to understand. Was the only reason you kissed me to protect me?”
He finishes his drink, and if he’s anything like me, the effects of the champagne have long worn off. Every sense in my body is sharp as a knife as I await his response. I hear a flirty giggle from the handsy couple at the bar, see the rush of the waves against the sand, and feel the chill in the air.
“No,” he says. “That wasn’t the only reason.” He lets that truth hang between us before asking, “And you? Was I just in the right place at the right time?”
“Honestly, when I saw you at the bar, I forgot about my friends and what they’d put me up to. I was happy to see you, especially after a shitty day.” I smile at Finn, recalling my immense relief at spotting him that night, and the way his eyes had a spark to them when I approached. “I wouldn’t have wanted to play that game with anyone else.” When I press my shin against his, he doesn’t recoil, and the contact lights me up from the inside. “You’re an excellent kisser, and you reminded me of that on this trip too.” I bite the corner of my lip, my heart galloping in my chest. Time to put myself out there. “Would you want to do that again sometime?”
We’re both fighting this pull between us. It’s a magnetic force that has me attached to him but also spinning out of control. My chin is almost at his biceps, my hand is a breath away from his, and our legs are melded together. Anything more, and I might take that as an invitation to straddle him again right here.
“Lou,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear. “We can’t.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Why not?”
“Your family, for one.”
“What about them? My brother won’t go all macho on you if he finds out. Not that we have to tell anyone.”
He winces at this, then takes a measured, steady inhale. “Your parents have allowed me into their lives like a son. I can’t mess that up.”
“There’s not a thing you could do to make them stop loving you.”
“And what about you?”
Something catches in my throat, throwing a bucket of freezing cold water on the heat of my libido. Love. Of course, I love Finn as part of the family. I love Finn. Adore him. I’d love to continue last night too. But what about after that?
Finn has seen me unguarded and in my life’s low moments. But even then, he doesn’t know the amount of effort I put into family gatherings or getting made up to go out. When he realizes how much work that version of me requires, and how behind closed doors, that’s not who I am most of the time…
“Exactly,” he says, like he can read my mind.
“We could keep things casual?”
“Not a casual kind of guy.” His eyes drop to my mouth, then look back up. “Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I gnaw on my lip. No world exists where Finn and I could be casual, and I understand why neither of us has ever made a real move before. We’ve known each other so long, and even a one-night stand would struggle underneath the weight of too much history, too much emotion, and too much of everything.
“That you guys?” Aaron calls out from the walkway. “Lou?”
Finn withdraws like the last-call lights have turned on and he doesn’t want to be caught. His obvious discomfort pricks my chest as my brother approaches.
“Oooh, fries.” Aaron grabs a handful. “Man, nice to get outta there for a little.”
“How are they?” Finn asks.
“Better,” Aaron says around his mouthful of food. “Dad and Cass are awake. A tad woozy and dehydrated, but we’re out of the woods. How was the boat ride?”
I reply with, “Um, fine,” while Finn says, “Great,” three times in a row.
Aaron chews and swallows, looking between his best friend and me. “What’s up with you two? You’re acting strange.”
“Lots of fresh air today, that’s all,” Finn says, quick and clipped.
“Did Lou spend the entire time bugging you?”
I roll my eyes and scoot off my seat, not wanting to stick around for any amount of teasing, no matter how good-natured my brother will claim it is. “I’ll have you know, I save all of my bugging for you.”
“Aw, c’mon.” He pops another fry in his mouth. “I was kidding. You don’t need to leave.”
“No, Finn’s right. Ocean air has me drained. Gonna go to bed.” I grab my bag and wave goodnight to them as Finn’s question replays in my mind. What do I want? I made that clear, didn’t I? Finn did too. I gave him an open invitation, and he doesn’t want me, plain and simple. Not only that, but I made an ass of myself in suggesting something casual.
Aaron takes my place at the bar, and as I turn down the sidewalk to the villa, Finn tells my brother a straightforward version of our evening. But I swear I sense the weight of Finn’s gaze as I go.