Chapter 19
“If there’s a sock on my doorknob, don’t come in. It means I’m having sex.”
“Yeah, probably with the other one.”
Adelaide
Finn ends up working all weekend, covering for the new guy. There’s no way he can work with the twenty or so stitches in his hand and all the bandages.
Really, it’s okay. I have my crazy client’s website to completely redo. Again. So, I spend my weekend working on that, cleaning my apartment, and stroking my wiener. And reading.
But, when Finn has a lull at the bar, we text. All the texts. I’ve never really done this. It’s a little like peopling but not. Flirting with a filter—I can handle that.
Late Monday afternoon, my phone pings and vibrates while I’m hooking Eric up to his leash.
My doxie is not big by any means, but he is a mighty little dick when properly motivated.
He pulls and tugs his way down the sidewalk until he sniffs every tree, rock, and blade of grass, looking for the one that is magically just right.
I scramble to keep hold of the leash while checking my new message and trying not to drop my phone. Surprisingly, it’s a lot to handle.
Finn: Are you still in your meeting?
Me: Nope.
The dots bounce for just a second, and then his number pops up with an incoming call. It’s so weird to actually talk on the phone, and my skin feels itchy and tight as I hit the green button, answering, “Hey.”
“Hi. How’s your day? You met with a new client?”
“Yeah, someone Aidan referred. Um, it sounds like they want to work with me, so that’s good.” None of my calm and snark works on the phone. I feel put on the spot and stumble over my words.
“Excellent. Done enough of a deal to celebrate it?”
“Yeah. I thought—aren’t you working tonight?”
“I plan on getting off and buying you breakfast,” Finn responds. I can practically hear him wink with his comment.
“When and where should I meet you for food?” This is getting easier. I bite my lip and check to see if Eric is done yet.
“I might need a nap after, so eleven o’clock? And where depends on what you’re up for.”
“Who has good sausage?”
Finn’s groan turns to a chuckle, and he mentions a diner not far from the community center.
“M’kay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and end the call.
Kneeling down, I scoop Eric’s tiny poop into a bright-green bag and chuck it in the nearest trash can. “Let’s go, man.”
* * *
Breakfast lasts until well after noon with countless cups of coffee, a shared order of sausage, and ridiculous amounts of flirting. I really didn’t even know I had it in me to flirt. Usually, I stick with prickly bitch. It works for me.
“Here.” I pull some cash out to cover the bill.
“As if I’d let you pay for my sausage,” Finn scoffs, shoving the money back at me. “You can have it for free.”
I still roll my eyes at his cheesy comments but not quite as strenuously. I think there’s more to him than he lets on, and it’s kind of cute.
“Thank you.” I slide out of the booth, and he places a hand at my back, guiding me out into the cloudy spring day. There’s still a chill in the air, and a shiver runs through me.
“Are you cold?” Finn starts peeling his jacket off, but I wrap my black cardigan around me and smile.
“No, I’m good.” I stop him. “I might just go to the coffee shop and work until it’s time for class. It’s warm there, and…” I shrug to heft my bag higher on my shoulder.
“They have tiramisu and coffee?” Finn adds, scooping said bag from my shoulder to his.
He walks me to my SUV and settles me in the driver’s seat.
“I’ll meet you there after I run by my flat.
I just need to grab my laptop—unless you’re going to share your Tumblr with me?
” Winking, he leans across me, setting my bag on the passenger seat. Crowding me, pressing me into my seat.
“Yeah, no. I, uh, have to do actual work.” His clean, citrusy scent surrounds me, invades my senses, as he slowly pulls his torso across me and smiles.
“Sorry, did I squish you? That was unintentional.” He lingers a moment before closing the door with another wink.
Did he always wink this much? Is it his contact lenses bugging him? I kind of miss the nerdy glasses sometimes.
* * *
Lost in conversation, we walk into class together after spending the rest of the afternoon in comfortable silence, working at the coffee shop.
Or at least, as silent as Finn could manage.
The timing and our newfound amiability do not escape the ladies.
Maybe it’s the fact that Finn’s hand is on my back as we walk through the door.
“Well, finally,” Louise says as she pops open the top of her cookie container.
Setting my laptop and coffee on the desk, I scoff, “You know we don’t have a designated snack time for this class, right?” When I look up, eight sets of owl eyes greet me.
“Oh, Adelaide. Not what we were referring to, dear.” Virginia gives a side nod of her head toward Finn and waggles her eyebrows.
“You just make the cutest couple,” Connie declares, followed by a chorus of, “Adorable,” and, “Sweet,” and other sentiments I usually bristle at.
All the descriptors that my dad wanted me to embody back home.
He wouldn’t know what to do if he heard this crazy crew referring to me that way now. Like this.
My shoulders relax as I shake my head. “We went on one date. We’re not a couple,” I huff out, trying to blow them off a little.
My gaze is drawn to the back row where Finn is leaning his chair back on two legs with his hands clasped behind his head.
He smiles his cocky smile, replying, “Yet.”
All of those owly eyes look back and forth between me and Finn.
“Shit. And, now, we’re back to just a bunch of available old women in here, eating cookies. I signed up for a computer class, thinking I might meet a nice young man,” one of our first-timers states.
“Really, Delores?” Connie asks. “All the nice young men know how to check their email already. You want to find nice young men, you have to go to the gym. Hell, even the hardware stores only have young moms doing DIY projects or grumpy old men trying to get away from nagging wives for an hour or so.”
“It’s true,” Louise chimes in, plucking another cookie out of the box. “And is it even worth it at this stage? I’d rather just take care of things myself.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus, no.
“Maybe we should talk about scanning and printing documents?” I’d really like to avoid where I think this conversation is headed.
“Maybe what we should do is have one of those Love Nest parties,” Connie suggests, looking around the room. “You know, like a Tupperware party but with vibrators?”