28. Finn
Chapter 28
Finn
I am the luckiest fucking man alive right now. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. Pen a few novels? Let a half-frozen stranger stay the night? I’d do so, so much more for the beautiful woman who’s currently nestled in my arms, looking up at me as if I’m the sun, the moon, and the stars. I don’t deserve her—I certainly don’t deserve the quick and wholehearted forgiveness that she’s bestowed on me.
“I feel like this is too easy,” she murmurs, making me laugh. We’re laying on her bed at her apartment, which is as charming as it is sparsely decorated. There’s only one bathroom, which Jules claimed as soon as we arrived. She’s in there now, showering off the sweat and grime that comes standard with a night of dancing.
“Do I need to prove myself? I feel like I could go on a quest in this outfit.” I flick my fingers at the hem of my tunic. It’s actually pretty awesome.
Rune chokes on a laugh and traces the fancy pattern along my sleeve. “No, but I might need to. The cynical part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like maybe I haven’t suffered enough to deserve having you here, holding me.”
There’s no sadness, no bitterness in her tone, but the words send a pang through my heart. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Rune deserves the fucking world. The fact that she’s overwhelmed by my mere presence—when there’s literally nowhere I’d rather be than at her side—makes me feel uncomfortable. I’ve been such an asshole to her, without even meaning it.
“I don’t know why I let you leave in the first place,” I tell her. “I convinced myself that the best thing was to give you space. That maybe you didn’t want me around after I hadn’t been entirely forthright with you.”
Her eyes widen. “Impossible.”
I lean down and kiss her gently on those sensual red lips. I’ll have to ask her to wear that color more often. It does things to me. “I owe you an explanation.”
She stiffens just a little. “You don’t have to,” she says, which is ridiculous.
“Of course I do. I left you with the impression that I didn’t want to share certain things with you. It really couldn’t be farther from the truth. Maybe I should have told you the moment I met you. Or at the very least, the moment I found out that you knew about my books. But I got sidetracked. It wasn’t an exaggeration when I told you I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt like I had to make up for lost time getting to know you. It felt ridiculous to spend time discussing my writing when what I really wanted was for you to know me and who I am beneath that.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. When I say the words out loud, they sound so pathetic. Like the worst cliché in a Hallmark movie.
Rune’s just looking at me, and I don’t know what she’s thinking right now. I force myself to continue, “I swear I was going to tell you. In fact, I had a gift for you in my truck that night of the fundraiser. I was going to give it to you that night, before you came back to Chicago. It would have explained everything. But I sort of lost courage. I thought—I thought I’d already screwed it up and you didn’t want anything more from me.”
“I feel like a bitch,” Rune moans, covering her face with her hands.
“You aren’t—and weren’t,” I assure her, drawing her hands away. That’s the last word I would ever use for Rune. “You just looked so confused, so sad. It shattered my heart and I didn’t know what to do to fix it.”
Her fingers close around mine and I swear I do not deserve this woman. The way she looks at me adoringly while I’m confessing how big of an idiot I was.
“So the thing you were going to give me?” she prompts. “How would it have explained everything?”
I open my mouth to tell her, but am interrupted by the emergence of Jules, fresh out of the shower, dressed only in a bathrobe, holding a paper bag.
“Jules, put some clothes on. Stop trying to steal Finn,” Rune snaps, earning a laugh out of me. As if.
“Not even interested,” Jules says. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I reply.
“I just happened to overhear Finn’s confession. Figured this would be the right time to deliver this.” She plops the paper bag on the bed.
“What—?” Rune looks at it, completely mystified.
“Open it,” I prompt. And I watch as she pulls out four leather bound books. The sequels to the Crimson and Roses copy she bought earlier. She doesn’t say anything as she runs her fingers along the gilding on the covers. Nor does she make a sound as she opens the cover and reads the message I penned the morning that I woke up with her by my side:
To Rune,
I thought you might like a complete set.
Love,
R.E. Andersson
(Finn)
The fact that she’s still not saying anything makes me a little nervous.
“It’s okay if you don’t want them,” I tell her.
“Finn, you’re so ridiculous,” she says finally, a catch in her voice. When she lifts her head to look at me, there are tears shining in her eyes. “These are beautiful. This is perfect.” She reaches for me, but I put my hand up.
“I, er, have one more thing to show you.” Because if I start touching her, I’m fairly sure I won’t be able to stop. Not until we’re both sweating and fully spent. I pick up the envelope that has half fallen out of one of the books and hand it to her. Jules quietly backs out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Rune’s brows furrow as she scans the letter inside. “Finn, what is this?”
“I pitched your work to my lawyer, Amber,” I add, and am glad when Rune’s face registers recognition at the name. “I’ve been looking for an illustrator for an exclusive edition of Crimson and Roses that I want to publish when the final book is ready. It’s up to you, of course. There’s the proposed commission amount on the back, along with a five percent royalty on all copies sold. I had my lawyer write up the contract, but you can certainly negotiate terms further. Amber represents quite a few big time authors and publishers and agreed that there will likely be a high demand for your work once it’s published. She’s already showed some of your illustrations to her friends and there are at least three other authors who are interested in working with you in the future, if you ever wanted to.”
I’m barely finished speaking before Rune throws herself at me, tears streaming down her face.
“I can’t believe this. I don’t deserve this,” she whispers, her head tucked against my shoulder. I tighten my arms around her.
“You absolutely do. You have incredible skills and vision. And Rune,” I lean back, looking her straight in the eyes. “It would be a fucking honor to have you illustrate the series. But if you don’t want to, I won’t be offended. It’s just an offer I wanted to put out on the table. Turning it down won’t change anything between us. All I want is you, if you’ll have me.”
She shakes her head, smiling through her teary eyes. And then her lips are on mine, her hands on me, tugging at my tunic. I pull it off in one smooth movement, letting it fall to the floor next to Rune’s leggings.
It feels a little like role-play, helping her undress from the outfit of one of my book characters. I really like it. We’ll have to do this more often. Which is the last coherent thought I’m aware of as she stands there, fully naked. For a moment, all I can do is admire her. She’s pure and utter perfection; her face coloring a little at the intensity of my gaze.
“So, are you just going to look at me all night, or?—”
I don’t let her finish, dragging her into bed with my mouth on hers, indulging in the magic that is her body. We explore each other long into the night until finally, breathless and somewhat satiated, we fall asleep, my arms wrapped around her.
* * *
“Wake up, bitches, it’s the New Year,” Jules sings, bursting into the bedroom. I drag the sheet up to hide my naked body.
“Nice, I finally understand what she sees in you,” she snickers at my abs.
I’d been nervous as hell to meet up with Jules a few days ago. After I’d fucked things up with Rune, I expected pure hostility to greet me when I walked into the predetermined coffee shop. That was until Jules came sailing in, a mix of their cousin Ella’s boldness, Courtney’s sharp observational skills, and Rune’s absolute charm and beauty. We hit it off immensely. I’m glad to know that Rune has a sister like Jules to take care of her—even if I secretly intend to take over the majority of that role from here on out.
“Get the hell out of here, Jules,” Rune murmurs, half-asleep.
“Only if you promise to get up. I’ve made breakfast and we have things to do.”
“Like what?” Rune sits up, clutching the blanket to her chest.
“You’ll see. No raunchy things this morning, please. The walls are paper thin and I do not want to hear it.”
I laugh at the frustrated look on Rune’s face and slip my hand between her legs. A good morning caress. “I’ll make it up to you later. Promise.”
“Stop it and come out here,” Jules calls from the kitchen.
I force myself to stare at the wall as we get dressed to avoid temptation. Since all I have is my costume, I’m thankful when Rune is able to scrounge up a pair of her roommate’s boyfriends’ sweatpants and t-shirt. Even if they’re slightly roomy for me.
“I can pick up my own clothes this morning,” I tell Rune when she tries to apologize.
“From where? Where is your car?”
I lean in and kiss her. “Secrets.”
She gives me a suspicious look. Thankfully, not the kind she was giving me last night when I showed up at the ball. This one is a tad bit friendlier. After our breakfast of scrambled eggs, Jules excuses herself, insisting that she has a few errands to run. The obvious wink she gives us as she departs makes Rune’s eyes narrow.
“Ok tell me what’s up,” she demands, turning on me.
“Even better: I’ll show you. But first, let’s go get some coffee.”
I let her show me around the neighborhood in her ancient car. There’s a clunking sound in the engine that makes me fucking nervous. Rune insists that it’s just the car’s way of trying to communicate with us.
“Is it communicating that you should stop driving it?” I ask wryly.
She just rolls her eyes. “Tell me where to go to get your stuff. You’re wearing Brian’s morning-after-sex clothes and it’s a little weird.”
I direct her to the neighborhood of my Chicago house. While I obviously prefer the log home I built up in Minnesota, both for its aesthetic and location, I do take a bit of pride in the place I bought for myself here. It’s in a quaint but classy neighborhood, with cute shops and a spectacular bookstore that I fell in love with. The moment I saw this particular house for sale, I snatched it up. It has a charming style, like a New England cottage, and painted a sort of blueish gray with white accents. It was a little bit of a financial stretch at the time, but I was tired of living in hotels. I wanted a place I could stay during my work trips and when I needed a change of scenery and pace.
Rune goes quiet as I direct her to turn into my driveway, my card opening up the gate so we can continue to the house itself.
“Why are we here?” she asks in a strange voice. The smile dies on my face.
“This is my house,” I tell her. “My second home.”
To my utter surprise, she bursts into tears.