Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
OAKLEIGH
Finn pulls up to my house and puts the car in park.
“I think there’s some things that need to be discussed,” he says, eyes trained on the steering wheel.
“Like what?”
He takes a deep breath and stares out the window.
“I’m going to have to spend a couple of nights at your house.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just one or two nights a week, Lee.”
“The fuck you are!”
He lets out a groan that has no business being as sexy as it is.
“Cherry, think about it. I live with my sister. Your best friend. You don’t think it’ll be weird if she sees that the only time I actually spend with my girlfriend is whenever she’s around, too?
She’s already dead set on disbelieving us as it is. ”
For fuck’s sake.
“There has to be another way. Maybe just going out for a drink … or seven?”
He shakes his head fiercely. “Wren knows I would never do that for a date. I’m not that casual. I plan dinners at home, I take them ice skating, I do whatever I can to think outside the box.”
“I don’t care. You are not spending the night in my house.”
“Think of it like this.” He ignores me completely, turning his whole body toward me.
“I’ve just told her that I’m coming to pick you up from work at three in the morning and it’s now five.
You really think it’ll seem normal if I drove here from two towns away at the ass-crack of dawn just to drive you home and then give up a chance to sleep next to you? ”
If there’s anything I hate more than Finn being smug, it’s Finn being right. Wren would smell a rat from a mile away if he went home now. She would also bring us up on the lack of time spent together.
I let my head flop onto the head rest, closing my eyes and hoping that the pending headache goes away.
“I hate myself for agreeing to this. I didn’t think it would involve the stress of being around you when no one else was watching.”
He’s silent for a while; silent enough that I open my eyes to peek over at him. His hands are fidgeting in his lap while he watches with a pained expression. I frown as I take him in. No comeback? No eye roll at the very least?
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. For fuck’s sake!” He bangs on the steering wheel, and I jump. He must have seen it in his peripheral because he turns to me with wide eyes, his hazel gaze swimming in regret.
“Shit, Cherry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just—”
“It’s okay,” I say, and it really is. Yes, we’re enemies, but I have never once feared Finley.
The respect he has for women shines through in everything he does.
Yes, he doesn’t like me, but you can be damn sure he shows me the respect I deserve.
He’s never laid a hand on me in any way that isn’t safe, and he never will.
“It’s just … frustrating,” he mumbles.
“I know.”
We sit in an awkward silence, me contemplative, him regretful.
That moment when he can’t help but give into his compulsions is one that, I think, makes him feel weak and incapable.
Add in being forced to do it in front of another person and it’s worse.
I’ve always ignored it when his compulsions come about, and now I can’t seem to shake them off.
Now I’m seeing the internal struggle that accompanies it and it’s not sitting right with me.
“You can come inside,” I say on a sigh. “But you’re sleeping on the couch.”
He says nothing, simply offers a weak nod and steps out the car. I follow him after a minute, wondering what on earth this night is going to be like.
* * *
The minute I step inside, Ollie greets me by swerving in between my legs, nudging his head against me.
Ollie has never been good with new people. He’s extremely territorial, as all black cats usually are, and so I watch carefully as he moves to Finn.
Without wasting a second, Finn immediately bends down and scoops up my cat into his big arms.
“Oh, no, don’t. He—” but my traitor of a cat purrs loudly as he nuzzles into Finn’s neck “—doesn’t … like … people.”
What. The. Hell?
I stare in disbelief as Finn scratches the very spot on Ollie that he loves so much and that it took me weeks to find. Ollie’s back leg straightens out, a sign that he’s in heaven right now.
“He’s cute,” Finn says simply, moving toward the couch with Ollie still in his arms.
Unbelievable.
I stomp my way over to the kitchen, pouting like a child as I refill the traitor’s bowl. I make myself a glass of water. My glass pauses halfway to my lips.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I mumble to myself. “Hey, dickwad, do you want water?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I chug the water down in about three gulps, my throat feeling as if I’ve just come out the desert.
“I should get some sleep. I have work again tomorrow.” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll go get you some sheets.”
After an awkward exchange of sheets and one more glass of water, I climb into bed and give into my exhaustion. Only problem is…
Not even exhaustion seems to be able to trump the awareness that shuffles across my mind.
The knowledge that there’s just one wall separating myself from Finn has the same effect as my room being filled with sunlight.
I can hear him arranging the sheets on the couch, the ruffle of fabric and the slapping of a pillow.
I don’t hear anything after that, but I’m still so aware that he’s there on the other side, doing God knows what.
An hour later, I’m still awake, and by the sounds of it, so is Finn. I hear him change position for what must be the twentieth time now. I even tried counting at one point, thinking it might help put me to sleep. Nothing. God, my walls are thin.
Finn’s presence slithers over my skin making it slick with sweat.
Why the hell is he affecting me this way? I’ve never had to spend so much time one-on-one in such an intimate way with him, but even so I never expected this.
A groan from the other side of the wall makes my breath hitch. It’s low and frustrated and strangely tempting. It vibrates within me, setting off something that I don’t want to put a label on.
I kick the blanket off of me, my skin hot and bothered. I need more water, but I’ll have to pass him to get it. Even though avoiding him while I’m like this is the better option to take, curiosity has this cat in a chokehold.
I softly open the door and creep down the hallway that separates my bedroom from the living room and kitchen. My entire body stiffens as soon as I hear his low voice whisper into what I’m assuming is his phone.
“Well, what do you want me to say, Bash?” he asks. Of course, Bash is calling looking for details. Wren must have finally told him.
Sebastian—Bash as he prefers to be called—is another member of the little group we seem to have created over the past year. He’s one of Gus’s older brothers and the co-owner of Goldleaf Farm where I had my incredible thirtieth birthday last year.
“What do you mean I’m holding out on you?”
He listens to whatever reply Bash offers. I keep my back flush against the wall, the cold touch zipping across my slick skin.
“I didn’t even tell my own sister, and you’re upset I didn’t tell you sooner?”
I still need to talk to Wren about everything. I feel horrible for not doing so already, but work kept me on my toes yesterday and it didn’t seem like something you call your best friend to discuss over a twenty-minute lunch break.
“Bash, I— No, I hadn’t told anyone about the kiss.”
My eyes close, regret forcing them shut. Why the hell did I have to mention that kiss at lunch?
“Because I didn’t know how to.” Finn groans and I imagine him digging his fingers into his closed eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not exactly something small, you know?”
After a minute, I hear him shift and say, “Of course I’m in love with her. I’ve been in love with her since the first moment I laid eyes on her, for fuck’s sake.”
My heart stutters but I force myself to shake it off, making it resume its admittedly staggering heartbeat. He’s simply telling Bash whatever he needs to.
“My plan is to not make a big deal out of this. We carry on like normal. The only difference is that it’s my girlfriend yelling at me, not my sister’s best friend.”
It’s a joke, I know. The lilt to his voice is light and comforting, but that doesn’t stop the thrill that zips its way down my spine.
“Bash.” Finn sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re still on for Wednesday night… No, I promise I won’t do anything else crazy until then… Sebastian just get the fuck off my phone, please, I’m trying to not wake Oakleigh up.”
Whatever Bash says next draws a low chuckle from Finn that I feel in my core.
“Yeah, bro. Bye.”
The glow from his phone screen illuminates the floor right by my feet. I take a quiet step back, as if that warm white light will burn me. My living room and kitchen are thankfully holding the morning sunlight at bay thanks to the blinds covering the windows that run along two walls.
I hear him readjust his position on the couch before he says, “You done eavesdropping?”
Damn.
With a sigh and a shake of my head, I step out from behind the wall and welcome the sight of a shirtless Finn sitting on my couch.
He leans over the back of it, arms bulging as he rests his chin in the crook of his arm.
His smile is teasing and victorious. The floor lamp beside him is on, warm light coating his caramel skin.
“Hi,” he says with a tired smile.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice just as exhausted. “You’re still up.”
“So are you.”
“So I am.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I shy away from him, my body curling in on itself.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he stands up and walks toward me. Seeing him like this is … a lot. The muscles, the definition, the clear strength. Toning that only comes about from hard, physical labor. It’s a complete contradiction to his face; sharp features surrounded by soft personality.
“Why would anything be wrong?” I take a hasty step back.
“You look like Ollie just shat all over your carpet.”
“My good boy would never.” He has in fact. Twice.
“Cherry.”
“Please stop.”
He stops moving mid-step.
“Stop what?”
“Stop acting like … this.”
His head tilts. “Acting like…?”
“Like you … care.” The words just slip out before I can wrangle them back into my heart, quiet but meaningful. I don’t like feeling as if someone is watching me; analyzing me and my feelings when even I don’t fully understand them.
A warm hand latches onto my waist and hauls me closer. Loose strands of my hair are pushed back and tucked behind my ear. A soft brush of Finn’s fingers has a shiver running down my spine. Two fingers under my chin bring my head up.
The honesty in his eyes makes me swallow hard.
“Just because we haven’t ever gotten on, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Oakleigh. I’ve always cared. More than you think.”
He uses my name and it stirs something within me. He uses my name and it shows me how serious he is. He notices; he pays attention, and that scares me. I don’t want anyone paying close attention to me; it brings to light the cracks in the confident facade.
We stay like that for a while, him brushing my cheek, me staring at him and wondering how the hell we wound up here when all I did was get up to grab some water.
Finn must notice the complete ludicrousness of this situation, too, as his face turns into a frown, his hand snapping away from my face. Awkwardness kisses my skin and I wrap myself up in my arms.
“I should, um … I should go and get some sleep.”
He nods to himself and taps his leg. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
He takes a step back. I mirror the movement.
The growing space between us feels bittersweet and I can’t for the life of me explain why.
I feel his gaze on my back as I head toward my bedroom with no water to quench my dry throat and feverish skin.
I close the door behind me and double-check that it’s properly closed, not to keep him out but to keep me in.
I manage to fall asleep about an hour later, but my sleep is fitful and broken, all thoughts on the buzzing beneath my skin that seems to have formed a brand left behind by a certain guy’s hand on my waist.