37. Sierra
SIERRA
“ O h Lord,” I muttered, watching Finn dash across the stage.
At the same time, the host stepped back up to the mic, tripping over his words only a little as he wrapped up the ceremony and wished everyone a good night, as if everything was normal.
As if the world hadn’t just turned itself upside down.
I grabbed the remote from the couch. It trembled in my hand as my heartbeat rushed in my ears.
“Well, Mel,” an announcer said as the ceremony’s credits started running. “It’s certainly been an interesting night here at the Oscars.”
“Yes, lots of big drama!”
“If you’re still with us at home, don’t go away. We’ve got all the highlights right here on?—”
I turned the TV off, my thoughts whirring one hundred miles an hour as I snagged my keys off the kitchen counter. Purse. Where the hell was my purse? I whirled around, checking the usual places, spotting it under the coffee table .
My phone rang. Ro . “Hello?”
“Where are you right now?” she demanded.
I tucked my purse under my arm. “Standing in the living room.”
Ro made a sound like a duck being strangled. “Sierra, God! If you’re not already halfway to Finn’s place?—”
“That really happened, right?” I couldn’t help asking. “Please tell me I didn’t hallucinate him pouring his heart out live on TV.”
“Yes, it happened—which is why you need to get to his place, stat ,” Ro practically screamed. “And I want to hear every dirty detail tomorrow!”
Yep, I was going. Running. Flying out the door so fast I almost forgot to lock it behind me as I hung up on Ro and raced down the stairwell to my car. It wasn’t until I was actually sitting behind the wheel that I took a moment to really think about what I was doing.
I rubbed my hand against my forehead, feeling the heavy makeup still on my skin along with the loads of product in my hair, holding that beautiful but complicated updo in place.
I’d immediately changed out of my dress upon walking in the door, swapping it out for sweats, but I’d wanted to catch the end of the ceremony, so I hadn’t yet bothered to wash off the makeup or hair product.
I probably looked a little crazy as I’d raced out of the building, but so what? Finn had just hijacked the highest-profile night in cinema to throw his heart down on the ground where everyone could see it. The mask had come off. There’d been no Mr. Bigshot standing on that stage.
Just Finn.
The man I loved, in spite of everything. I didn’t know if I was making the right decision by giving him another chance, but I knew that if I didn’t make this trip, I was going to regret it for the rest of my life.
Decided, I turned the key in the ignition and the car sputtered to life.
The next thing I knew, I was fighting the congested post-awards traffic as I cut across the city to Silver Lake.
By the time I reached the condo building, it felt like years had passed.
I raced toward the lobby doors, wondering if I could plead with the concierge to let me in, but before I could work up my best pout, Brenna appeared to let me into the building.
“Hey,” I said, catching my breath.
“Is that Academy Award winner Sierra Banks?” she said, giving me a warm smile as she pulled me into a hug. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It’s been a weird night,” I said as she gave a sharp laugh. “I guess I’m still sort of processing everything.”
She pulled away and handed me a key fob. “I’m really glad you came. Just…follow the candles when you get up there, okay?”
“Candles?” I repeated, making sure I’d heard her right.
Her lips twisted in amusement. “Some of my best work, even if it freaked out Lord Meowington.” She squeezed my hand once, promising we’d celebrate later, then gave me a little shove in the direction of the elevator. I didn’t know what to think as I rode it up to the top floor.
Stepping into the hall, I opened the door to the penthouse slowly. My heart sped up as the nerves coiled inside me, twisting tighter than when I’d waited for that host to announce the Best Costume winner.
I wasn’t prepared for the rush I experienced walking through the front door.
It felt like coming home, and emotion clogged my throat, threatening to choke me as the wave of memories I’d locked away came flooding back.
For a time, I’d been so happy here with Finn, and I didn’t know how to feel about it now.
“Hello?” I called. “Finn? Brenna said it was okay to come up.”
The lights were off, but just as Brenna had said, a trail of candles had been lit, the soft, flickering glow beckoning me across the living room and down the hall.
I followed them all the way to the entrance to Finn’s sculpture studio.
I hesitated in the doorway for a moment as shock drowned out everything else.
More candles flickered all around the studio, which was packed with sculptures.
Miraculously intact sculptures.
They were crowded on shelves and on tables, some so tiny they’d fit in the palm of my hand and others large enough to meet me eye to eye. I stepped closer, inspecting the clay, and frowned at what I saw. The imperfect pieces had been painstakingly put back together.
As I wandered among them, I realized that the cracks in the clay hadn’t just been glued back together. He’d used the practice of kintsugi—where resin is mixed with powdered gold so that the cracks and flaws aren’t disguised or smoothed over but highlighted, gilded.
The warm candlelight glowed against them, highlighting the metallic sheen all around me. It was…Well, beautiful was an understatement.
Footsteps echoed, and I knew it was him. My pulse skipped at the base of my throat as I sucked in my next breath.
“You came,” he said softly.
“You said you had something to show me,” I replied, slowly turning around to face him. He looked exactly the same as he had up on that stage when he’d told the world he loved me.
He’d shed his tux jacket, unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, and rolled his shirt sleeves up. He looked…relaxed. He looked like my Finn, and my stomach twisted uncertainly at the thought. “This must have taken you ages.”
“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands,” he admitted, giving me a smile that made butterflies stir inside me.
“More than long enough to realize what an idiot I was. And while I was doing that, I taught myself kintsugi.” He stepped closer to a vase, brushing his fingers gently over cracked golden lines.
I couldn’t help smiling at the care he used.
“You’re embracing the imperfections?” I said, a little impressed.
He looked at me, that once icy gaze now full of fire. “I’ve realized there’s beauty in that,” he said. “I don’t care if the pieces aren’t perfect anymore. They might be messy in ways, but the best things in life usually are.”
“Do you really think that?” I asked, my voice catching.
He reached out his hand. I took it, letting him brush his thumb over my knuckles.
“I’ve spent my whole life being afraid of what would happen if I let anyone see what a mess I was inside.
I put on a mask, working to project that I lived in this bubble of perfection.
I focused so much on what wasn’t real that I lost myself along the way.
And I lost the person who meant the most to me in the world.
I see that now, and I don’t want to keep living that way if it means losing you. ”
A sob shot up my throat, my voice thin. “Finn?—”
“I know I’m not perfect, Sierra. I have things I need to work on, habits I need to let go of.
But I think I’ve finally realized that my brothers and I…
my mom…we’ve all grown up now. I don’t have to hold it all together for everyone anymore.
Sure, there are going to be complications and messes and difficulties going forward, but that’s just life.
And I don’t have to plan or script my way out of living it.
I want my life to be messy and imperfect—and real. ”
“So, what?” I asked, watching the ways the candlelight played off his face, resisting the urge to stroke my hand along the strong line of his jaw. “No more Mr. Bigshot?”
He nodded, catching my face between his palms. “No more Mr. Bigshot. I’m ready to embrace the imperfections and the mess.
I want to be the man you deserve. Because you mean the world to me.
I meant what I said on that stage, Sierra.
I love you. I’m sorry I let you down, but I swear I’ll do better.
” The corner of his mouth tipped up as he inclined his head toward the sculptures.
“And I hope you can find it in yourself to accept me even with my cracks.”
“You want me to take another chance on you?” I said, my heart breaking open as tears welled in my eyes.
He nodded. “Flaws and all. And if you do, I promise to spend every day showing you just how much you mean to me.”
I sank into his arms, meeting him for a breathless kiss. “I love you, too.”
He squeezed me tightly before pulling back just enough to give me a cheeky grin. “More than RevX?” he asked.
I groaned and laughed as I whacked his chest playfully.
“I won’t let you down again,” he promised, kissing me once more.
“Good,” I whispered against his mouth, the kiss turning fiery as he dragged his lips across my jaw and down my neck, making his way to my pulse point. I moaned, and we stumbled against a table, rattling that perfectly imperfect pottery. “Maybe we should move this somewhere…”
“Less risky?” he said.
I caught my lip between my teeth, nodding, and Finn turned, blowing out the candles.
We moved in the fluttering darkness like we had never unlearned each other, and I sighed in contentment as Finn stretched out over me on the bed, one single candle left burning on the side table.
“God, I missed this,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple, my ear, burying his nose in my hair as he ran his hand along my bare hip. We’d lost our clothes all around the condo as we’d blown out the rest of Brenna’s candle trail before finally making our way back to the master bedroom.
A sharp meow cut through the air from beyond the bedroom door, and I couldn’t help the laughter that exploded out of me.
“I think Lord Meowington has many things to say about me being back in your bed,” I said, feathering my hand through the short hairs at the nape of Finn’s neck. His deliciously strong body pressed me into the mattress, and I shifted, rolling my hips against him, desperate for friction.
“He’s trying to be a cockblock,” Finn said, and I yelped as he pinched my backside.
“More like trying to guard his favorite sleeping spot from the interloper he thought he’d gotten rid of once and for all.”
“Nope. He missed you,” Finn whispered, curling his arms around me as his condom-clad cock dragged through the wetness gathered between my thighs.
I moaned, shifting again, desperate for more. Desperate to have him inside me.
“He would bite me every time I went to bathe him. He even destroyed his favorite sweater that Grace had given him.”
I snorted with laughter over those ridiculous sweaters .
“He spent weeks in the spare room pacing,” Finn continued, deliberately not giving me what I craved. “I think he was waiting for you to come home.”
I pressed my hand to his cheek. “I did come home.”
“You did,” he agreed. “And I’m never going to let you go again, Cinderella. No riding away in your pumpkin carriage this time.”
“It doesn’t get great mileage anyway,” I joked.
“Tires are probably flat.”
“Plus, your closet has way more room for my glass slippers than the one back in my apartment,” I said.
Finn snorted. “Well, as long as we’ve got the closet space issue settled.”
“Exactly.” I trembled with desire. With happiness. “Kintsugi sculptures, cockblocking cats, and huge closets. What more could a girl want?”
“Anything,” he answered. “Say the word, and I’d give you the whole world on a platter. I mean it, Sierra.”
My heart thundered. “Taking this fairy godmother thing a little too seriously, aren’t you?”
“Only for the rest of our lives,” he said. “Ask and it’s yours.”
“Fuck me,” I said, my words whispered against his ear as he reached his hand between us to touch my clit.
It had been too long since I’d known his touch, and my body responded, needy and impatient as he stroked me.
It felt so good that the months we’d been apart vanished like nothing but a bad dream, memories of sadness overpowered by waves of pleasure.
“Like this?” he said .
My eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation of him. “Yes,” I breathed.
“Or like this?” He shifted, dipping two fingers into me as he applied pressure to my clit. My hips bucked. “Look at me, Sierra. I want to see you lose your mind when I make you come.”
I struggled to open my eyes, straining to focus on him as delicious anticipation swirled through my lower belly. “Finn,” I moaned.
“That’s right. Say my name,” he growled in my ear as he curled his fingers. I could feel his cock heavy against my thigh. I wanted him inside me. Now .
“ Please ,” I begged.
“Please what?” he said. “Please fuck you? Please unravel you?” He moved faster, rocking his fingers in and out as tension gathered inside me, tighter and tighter, threatening to snap.
“Finn!” I cried, pressing my hand to his chest, fingers grasping at defined muscle.
“That’s it,” he said, turning tighter circles around my clit. Ripples started from my core, stretching out across my body as I moaned his name. “Yes, say my name. Scream it ,” he growled in my ear as the orgasm took me.
Finn tugged his fingers away, looking down at me, waiting for a breathless nod before replacing his fingers with his cock.
The sensations intensified as he sank inside me, and I savored the stretch as another heady spasm rippled through me.
I groaned again as Finn started moving, sinking so deep that a second wave of desire surged through me, hard and fast.
I wasn’t sure if he’d tipped me into another orgasm or if it was the same one, stretched out exquisitely, but my head spun, bliss hovering just behind my eyelids.
I wanted to wring out every ounce of pleasure, but as Finn’s movements grew more erratic, I clutched him to me, cradling him through the trembling release of his own orgasm.
“I love you,” he rasped into my ears. “I love you, I love you…”
I glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was well after midnight, Finn was in my arms, and I was no longer Cinderella with her pumpkin coach, trying to outrun the clock. There were no more cameras. No more interviewers waiting for scripted answers. No more PR dates.
We were just Finn and Sierra.
Real.
Flawed.
And ready to start again.