Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Frankie
After three margaritas, I confessed everything to Hannah, spilled my whole heart out to her, bribed with drinks and popcorn shrimp.
“You’re not even thirty,” she said, waving her tipsy hand. “You’ve got plenty of time to find someone.”
I laughed. “I guess Finch did me a favor,” I said, swirling my finger around the salt-rimmed glass. “I got to have my quick burn rebound after Jake, and now I can move on.” I shrugged, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yep, I can definitely just move on now. Easy as that.”
Hannah placed her hand on my forearm. “My point is you don’t need to move on. Wallow for a while.” She cocked her head at me. “When you’re ready, you’ll find the right person. You’ve got all the time in the world to feel however you’re feeling.”
I thought Finch was the right person. I still thought that. She was just too freaking stubborn to realize it.
“I’m feeling like I stupidly fell in love with Finch Lachlan.” I sniffed. “No. Nope.” I grabbed my glass and slurped the icy dregs. “We’ve moved past the crying phase.”
“Good. Unless you don’t want to?—”
“I appreciate the support and validation,” I said with a chuckle, rising to stand. “But I’m ready to stop crying. It’s my round.”
“Last round for me,” she said. “Defrosting fish for the penguins tomorrow is going to be brutal.”
I grimaced. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
Thank God I wasn’t a zookeeper. I couldn’t imagine cleaning up animal poop with a hangover.
I wandered over to the bar, seeing the way the bartender’s eyes fell to my hips, tracking every rock and swish. Trailing my gaze over her, I took in her wolf cut, thick, winged eyeliner, and septum piercing. Was she . . . checking me out?
I smiled at her, leaning onto the bar with drunken courage. “You are not the last guy,” I said, putting on my curious, flirty voice. Oh god, was I flirting with the hot bartender?
You need this, Frankie! I silently shouted at myself. No more pining for someone who doesn’t want you back!
The bartender grinned. “Very perceptive. Another two margaritas?”
“Yes, please,” I said, whipping out my credit card.
The bartender nodded to Hannah. “Is that your girlfriend?”
“Nope,” I said with a shake of my head. “Just a friend and co-worker.”
“Then the next round is on the house,” the bartender said with a wink, and it took everything in me for my jaw to not fall open. I was about to retreat into a giggling fit when the bartender’s eyes drifted to my right.
A person leaned their elbows on the bar, and I knew before I even glanced over who it was.
“Sarah.”
“Finch,” the bartender replied, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. “Are you two . . . together?”
“No,” I said at the same time Finch said, “Yes.”
I turned and gave her a frustrated look before whirling back to the bartender. “We pretended to be together for a hot minute for our mutual benefit, but Finch doesn’t do real relationships so?—”
“I do now,” Finch cut in.
I glared at her. “What?”
“I don’t want to pretend anymore, Frankie,” she said, talking to me as if we were alone, but there were a dozen people just openly staring at us.
I rubbed my forehead with frustration. She couldn’t be serious. Had she seen me flirting and just decided to be protective? She had no right to meddle in my love life when she so obviously didn’t want to be a part of it.
“Finch, I really can’t do this right now.” I turned back to the bartender as if I could just carry on our conversation, but Finch just kept her penetrating gaze fixed on me.
The bartender raised her hands up like a ref calling a foul ball and quickly backed out. “I’m going to leave you two to chat.”
Hannah came rushing over, spearing in between us. “You guys okay?”
“I need to talk to you,” Finch pushed, not breaking eye contact with me.
“Fine,” I said, my heart lodging in my throat. “But people are staring at us right now, so let’s go outside.”
“Is it better if I come or stay here?” Hannah whispered, and Finch huffed.
“I promise not to abduct her, hazard,” Finch said. “I just need to share a few revelations I’ve had, if you don’t mind.”
“Stay here,” I whispered to Hannah. “Enjoy the shrimp. I’ll be back in a minute. I’m okay,” I added when Hannah looked like she didn’t believe me. God, I loved what a bulldog she was for her friends, but thankfully Hannah retreated to our table. I needed to know what these revelations of Finch’s meant.
I rushed out of the restaurant, divesting myself of the weighty stares of the other diners. I folded my arms tight across my chest as I stormed down the wharf, Finch hot on my heels, until we came to stand in a golden halo of lamplight. I stared down at the midnight water gently lapping against the wharf beside us as I asked, “What do you mean, you don’t want to pretend anymore?”
It felt like my heart was stitching itself back together only to be ripped apart again. The words were so delicate, I could barely ask them. I knew what I wanted Finch to say and I was terrified to hear it at the same time.
“Frankie,” Finch said, her voice cracking as she took the last step to me and lifted my chin to meet her eyes just like she had that first night together. “When I met you, I thought I knew myself. I thought I knew what I wanted so completely that it would never change.” Her dark eyes welled, reflecting golden lamplight, and fuck it, mine did too, my emotions a mirror to hers. “But from the moment I first saw you, you had me transfixed. I thought I could deny it, but being with you, having lunches together, telling inside jokes, and falling asleep wrapped up in your arms...” A tear slipped down my cheek, and she wiped it away as she sniffed. “You know how I told you the only thing I could teach you was to ask for what you want?”
“Yes,” I choked out.
“Well, I was never very good at taking my own advice,” she rasped. I took a step in closer, holding her watery gaze as she said, “I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it. But I know what I want. Deep down, I’ve always known. I was just so scared of what it might mean for me, so scared that the truth would hurt us both.”
My throat bobbed, fear coiling in me. “What do you want?”
“You,” she said, a tear trailing down her cheek and dripping off her chin. “There’s nothing I want more than to love you, than to be loved by you. Every other want and desire is so much smaller to me now. I want you, Frankie. I want to be with you. I want us to be real.”
I let out a sob, launching forward and wrapping her up in my arms. “I love you, Finch,” I said. “I want to be with you too.”
Finch’s hand wrapped around my neck, and she pulled me into a burning kiss. My stomach fluttered with the intensity of it, tasting the salt on her lips, the brush of her tongue. All of the shattered parts of me started fusing back together. We stayed there kissing each other, promising things only our bodies could. When Finch finally pulled away, she sighed, wiping the last of my tears.
“Let’s go home,” she said, turning and walking straight off the side of the wharf . . .