16. The Perfect Gentleman #2
“Mine’s just down the street. I bought my parents’ old place when they moved to Florida. Though I haven’t lived there for some time.”
My mind flutters to our picnic in the park. “The one with the tree swing and the red front door?” I ask, a little perplexed that he didn’t bring up this fun fact when we were sitting a hundred feet away, having a conversation about it.
He nods.
“But it’s up for sale.”
I get caught up in the memory of how his face looked that day. The heartbreak and loss in his eyes as he shared that piece of his history with me. It dawns a moment before he says it. “I told you. It deserves a family.”
My whole body aches. I know Owen wants to believe he gave up on that dream, yet I see it written in every line on his face.
He craves it more fiercely with each passing day.
Which makes it all the more frustrating that he won’t allow himself to have it, that he won’t fight for what he desperately wants.
“Plus,” he continues, around a shaky breath.
“Delilah needed me here. I slept on her couch most nights anyway, and then when she left to get treatment, it didn’t seem fair to move Annabelle from the only home she’s ever known.
So I moved in here. Figured I’d sell my place and find something more suitable when they no longer need me. ”
I keep the thought to myself that they will always need him. Perhaps not in the same ways they have in the past, but Owen is the rock they anchor to in every storm.
“No one’s bought the place?”
“It’s priced too high,” he admits, a little sheepishly. “The realtor thinks I’m crazy. He’s begged me to lower it at least a dozen times. Honestly, I don’t know if I would have accepted an offer even if it did come in over asking.”
Owen is quiet, so I do my best to sit and let him catch his thoughts. Not a strong suit of mine, but for him, I manage.
“It worked out for the best anyway,” he finally continues. “Delilah and I talked it over on the drive back. Makes more sense for all of us to move in there. It has enough bedrooms and a yard for Annabelle to play.”
“Don’t forget, the tree swing.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, the tree swing she’ll fall off one day and break something, no doubt.
It’s closer to her school as well,” he adds, like the half mile between here and there makes all the difference.
“There’s plenty of room for you… If you want.
Or if you’re more comfortable staying here…
having a place to yourself. That would be fine, too. ”
My heart drops. That absolutely would not be fine, by any definition.
I might have only learned of this home’s existence five whole minutes ago, but my mind is already running away with dreams of the four of us living happily together.
Waking up and walking Annabelle to school before meeting Owen at the cafe.
Stopping by the playground on the way home every afternoon.
Cooking together in the kitchen. Watching movies on the couch.
The vision looks a whole lot like a family to me, and I wonder if it would be enough to fill that empty place in Owen’s soul.
“Why would I want to stay here alone?”
Owen pulls in a deep, grounding breath. For a terrible moment, I worry that he meant he’d like for me to stay here alone, that he doesn’t want me to encroach on the little life they’ll build together behind that red front door.
Then he opens his mouth and says the words I never thought I’d get to hear—words I want more than anything. “Well, moving in with someone you've only just started dating is a little rushed. Don’t you think?”
I do my best to prevent my mouth from dropping open, my jaw aching with the effort it takes to keep it in place. “Dating?” I’m not convinced I heard him correctly. My poor, tired mind is surely playing tricks on me. It’s the only explanation.
He clears his throat, obviously taken aback by my confusion. “Is that not what you want?”
“No. I mean…yes. God, yes.” It’s become a visceral need at this point. Not to be dramatic—although that’s kind of my MO—but I’d sell an organ for a chance with him. Not a vital one, obviously. My appendix, maybe.
I remind myself I’ve got to be chill about this, however. So, cool as a motherfucking cucumber, I ask, “Do you… Wait, you want to… Me?”
Those green eyes spark as they look back at me, a hundred different emotions dancing across his features. Is it too soon to ask him to look at me that way forever?
“Yeah, I really do.” He scrubs a hand over his face, letting out a low chuckle. “Delilah very politely told me I need to pull my head out of my ass and try getting out of my own way for once.”
I have to admit, I’m a fan of the way Delilah thinks.
“She also said I need to be honest with you about what I can bring to this relationship, and what I cannot. That I shouldn’t make your decisions for you. And to not let my misguided ideas of what you need cloud my judgment.”
“Does she know about—”
“God, no,” he says all too quickly. “Well. I mean, as far as Delilah is concerned, her brother is an asexual being who has never had an even remotely x-rated desire in his entire life. She just doesn’t know that’s the honest truth.”
He grins, and it’s hard to stop my own from spreading across my face. However, it dissipates too quickly, and some of the earlier vulnerability leaks back in.
“Finley.” He looks at me, a little too seriously.
“I don't know if sex will ever be on the table for me. What I do know is that I want to hold your hand and have you in my arms after a long day. I want to steal kisses whenever I can and fall asleep with you curled against me. I want to know your heart intimately. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give you anything more. ”
I go to open my mouth, but he raises his hand and gently cups my face, stopping me in my tracks. At some point over the last few minutes, we’ve moved toward one another—two magnets, completely unaware of the invisible force drawing us together.
“I can, however, promise I’ll be good to you. I’ll always be there to encourage you and lift you up. I want to help you face your fears and celebrate your wins. More than anything, I want a shot at building a life with you.”
The tears are back, this time for completely different reasons. They well in my eyes, my heart jumping with happiness as he speaks.
“I am not a perfect man, but I’ll work hard every day to be the kind of man you deserve.” His thumb rubs my cheek in reverent strokes, his expression so full of hope. “Will you promise me something?” He drops his gaze as his hand falls away. My skin tingles uncomfortably in its absence.
“Anything at all.”
“If you ever need more…”
“I won’t.”
“Finley, please listen. If the day does come, know that you can be honest with me. Don’t keep it bottled inside. Don’t disappear. If I ever stop being enough…”
And with that, I’ve heard about as much as I can take. Surging forward, I grip his bearded jaw, tilting his chin up until his eyes are once again locked with mine, and there’s barely an inch between us. He tries to pull away, but I hold him steady.
“It’s your turn to listen,” I tell him.
His eyes widen at the authority in my tone. I’m done with him trying to convince me he isn’t exactly what I need.
“You could never not be enough. There will never come a day when I want more from you than you can give me. Like, I know you’d never want that of me either. I won’t listen to you list all the ways you think you fall short.”
His breath releases in a soft whoosh.
I power on. “I want you, Owen. Your heart. A place in your life. I know I’m getting way ahead of myself here, but I want to show you that the family you’ve given up on is achievable. I want to be the one to give it to you. Please, let me try.”