Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
FINN
Things are going … well, they’re going, let’s leave it at that. Oakleigh has mostly been quiet which is unlike her, but during the rare moments that she does talk, she thankfully remains civil at the very least.
“How are you liking the food?” I ask in a final attempt to strike up a conversation.
Mickey brought me my usual—steak and fries.
Sounds basic, I know, but you haven’t tried Mickey’s.
He does something to the fries that makes me want to cry from happiness.
For Oakleigh, a pasta that the waiter said he made especially for her.
Like the artist that he is, Mickey somehow managed to mix cherries into the dish.
The first time she took a bite, I almost came in my pants like a teenager.
The groan she let out was sinful and erotic.
There was nothing else to do other than watch her and let the sound drag a shiver down my spine—the pure elation on her face as she savors the taste of her one obsession.
I’m selfish enough to currently be imagining ways in which I can make her just as obsessed with me—light kisses and nips along her skin.
“I’m in love,” she moans before taking another bite. Her bites slow as she watches me. When she swallows, she looks down at her plate and then back up at me. “Did you … want to try some?”
I don’t know whether Oakleigh means for it to sound so much like an olive branch, but that’s how I decide to take it.
Maybe because I’m so fucking desperate to get a part of her that can see me for the obsessed idiot that I am.
Maybe because the thought of Oakleigh feeding me pasta is currently leading to the rather far-fetched thought of me eating her in return.
I tuck my folded arms beneath me as I lean forward, making sure she knows that it’s completely down to her to get me to try it. No intrusive thoughts are stopping me this time, not when I want this too badly.
I let my mouth fall open and her eyes dart to my parted lips, eyebrow lifting in silent contemplation.
She twirls some pasta onto her fork and lifts it to my mouth.
I meet her halfway, leaning well over the table so I can wrap my lips around her fork.
Tart cherry flirts with the balsamic and the sweet potato on my tongue at the same moment that Oakleigh’s breath hitching reaches my ears.
It’s a surreal experience when two senses pair together in perfect harmony at the same time, the way they are now.
Like two instruments that play two completely different tunes and end up creating the perfect sound.
The moan that leaves my mouth can easily be due to either of these experiences.
“You like it that much?” Oakleigh asks, her voice rough and low.
I take my time letting my lips drag off the fork, my gaze refusing to leave hers as I sit back down in my seat. “Something like that.”
My skin feels hot, my chest tight.
Oakleigh watches me skeptically, her eyes taking me in and analyzing me with calculated curiosity.
I open my mouth to ask her what’s going on; why, all of a sudden, she finds me so unbelievably interesting.
But instead I stay silent. I watch her watch me, my curiosity matching hers.
I’ve never seen this expression on her face when looking at me before, and the craving for something new and unrecognizable from her grips at me like a rubber band cutting off the blood flow.
If I do so much as move my hand, she’s tracking the movement.
She clears her throat abruptly, the sound making her jump.
“Do you—uh … do you think people in town will be satisfied now?”
My heart sinks.
“What?”
She fiddles with everything around her—her napkin, her hair, her fork. “Well, that was the point of this, you know? To make sure that people in town saw us together?”
She’s right and yet that does nothing to stop my stomach from rolling beneath the table.
No amount of logical thinking is able to prevent me from feeling like complete and total shit.
I mean, what did I think? We’d have one dinner where we manage to avoid arguing and by the end I’d be walking out of here with a real girlfriend and a love declaration?
I used to make fun of my sister for things like this.
I used to call her naive and tell her that she was leaving herself open to being taken advantage of.
She always used to cross her arms over her chest and tell me that she just refuses to see the negative in everything, that the world isn’t going to feel worth being in if everything in it is dark and cold.
Now, here I am, on a date that—in my head—is as real as the woman I’m on it with, being reminded that it is absolutely nothing of the sort to her.
For the first time since Oakleigh and I began this fake relationship, I find my confidence wavering, and my drive to make her see our chemistry is faltering.
Why am I fighting for something that has been so one-sided since the moment we met?
“I—” I clear my throat, watching what’s left of my steak as my appetite slowly dissipates into queasiness. I shift in my seat. “I completely forgot about that.”
“You did?”
I nod solemnly. “I do that sometimes.”
“Forget things?” she asks.
I just decide to be honest. “Forget that things are supposed to be fake. For show.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and when I read the message from Gus, I curse the world for its terrible timing.
Gus
Everything’s all set. Just lock up when you’re done and bring the keys in the morning.
Fuck.
“What’s wrong?” Oakleigh asks.
“Huh?”
She looks down to the edge of the table as if she can see the phone I’m hiding beneath it.
“You just said ‘fuck.’”
Shit. Didn’t realize I did that out loud.
“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Just something I forgot about.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and I can’t blame her. I’m not the best liar.
“I’m gonna go and take care of the bill and use the bathroom. You take your time, okay?”
“Finn—”
“Hmm?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again.
I think about everyone watching us and, before walking away, I lean down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, my fingers lifting her chin up toward me. The kiss is momentary, the equivalent of a kiss on the cheek you give to your grandma before you leave.
As I make my way over to the reception desk, my mind decides to play devil’s advocate.
Give up. You’re not worth anyone’s love let alone hers.
Oh, fuck off will you?
“Excuse me?” The waitress asks, shocked.
Why do I keep accidentally talking out loud.
I offer a shy smile. “I’m so sorry, I promise that wasn’t directed at you.”
“Oh.” A relieved smile breaks out on her face.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“Date not going to plan?” she asks, nodding toward Oakleigh.
“No, no, nothing like that. I think I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be,” she smiles, turning to print off the check. “From what I hear, you’re a good guy. Mickey hasn’t stopped going on about you since you arrived.”
“He’s too kind.”
I pay the bill and leave a generous tip.
“Thanks for the advice.”
I stop by the bathroom before heading back to the table. I take my time in there, splashing some water on my face and taking some calculated deep breaths.
Stop fucking things up, Southwick.
I’m putting too much pressure on myself. My plan is making me stray so far from who I am that even if Oakleigh were to fall in love, I’m afraid it wouldn’t be with me anyway.
Instead of being at the table where I left her, I find Oakleigh waiting for me by the front door. She’s so animated as she chats with Mickey who’s come out of the kitchen. When they spot me, Mickey’s smile widens while Oakleigh’s dims.
“I heard the food was good.” Mickey beams, pride turning his pale cheeks pink.
“Better than good, as always, Mick.” We hug each other in a way that involves a lot of claps on the back. “Thank you for going above and beyond for Lee.”
I wrap my arm around Oakleigh’s waist and drag her into my side. I give the ends of her hair a quick tug before placing my hand back on her hip. I don’t miss the way she playfully bumps said hip against me.
“Anything for Eaglewood’s new power couple. You’ve stolen the spotlight away from your sister it would seem.”
“What can I say, I need to keep Wren humble. This town is spoiling her too much.”
“Spoken like a big brother.” Oakleigh’s laugh vibrates the side of my body leaving goosebumps in its wake.
We say our goodbyes to Mickey along with the promise that we’ll be back soon before heading out to my car.
I open Cherry’s door as usual before heading over to the driver’s side, unable to rid myself of that last little bit of doubt.