Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
FINN
I’ve pretended to scratch my face twenty times by now, each time taking a deep breath in and reveling in the memory of Oakleigh’s pleasure-filled expression as I brought her so close to the edge, I could feel her body tightening around my fingers, ready to fall over into a void of pleasure.
But fucking Sebastian Finch had to come and ruin what would have been the most beautiful sight of my life.
Never before have I wanted to be so violent.
I could have decked him right in the jaw for depriving me of that moment.
Now, as we begin to start gathering our stuff, I’m in two minds. Do I try and find a moment alone with Oakleigh where we finish what we started, or do I simply wait to see if she brings it up first?
“You guys are coming back with us, right?” Wren asks, and it’s only when Oakleigh and I turn around that we see that she’s talking to us.
Fuck.
“Oh, um … well…” Oakleigh sputters.
“Yeah, of course,” I reply for her.
Oakleigh’s head whips toward me, but I keep my gaze on my sister who is grabbing her cardigan off of the seat. She wraps it around her shoulders and frees any trapped curls from the neckline.
“Awesome. We’ll just walk back. I’m not trusting you to drive. Either of you.” She eyes up her fiancé who simply grunts behind her. Wren rolls her eyes. “Let’s go.”
We say our goodbyes to Sam, Jamie, and Bash, who winks at me before he heads outside.
The walk to Wren’s place only takes fifteen minutes.
Just as we’re about to walk up Wren’s walkway, Gus asks, “What’s happening with that plot of land you bought from Nigel?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Oakleigh watch me, surprised. I haven’t mentioned it to her yet because I wanted the deal to go through beforehand. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and have them destroyed.
“It’s getting there. Just waiting for the paperwork to go through and I’ve sent off the plans so I can get planning permission.”
“I’ve had my eye on that land for years,” Gus hisses. “Tight bastard always said he loved it too much to sell.”
“Sorry, bro, he just doesn’t love you the way he loves me.”
Gus shoves me playfully.
Wren lets us into the house, turning the lights on as we all pass through to the kitchen.
“So, what’s the plan for you two living together?” I ask.
Wren shrugs. “I’m moving into Gus’s house on the farm. We’re going to rebuild it.” Her expression turns mischievous. “Hopefully with the help of my favorite big brother?”
I watch her with mock surprise, because of course she was going to ask me for help. I wouldn’t expect anything less.
“We’ll see,” I say, and it’s a response that seems to shock all of us.
“Okay,” Wren replies, wide-eyed.
Oakleigh’s small hand slips into mine and I grip it before she can change her mind. Her touch grounds me, holds at bay the wave of anxiety that comes with setting a boundary.
“We should get some sleep,” she says, her smile soft as she looks at me.
I brush aside a lock of her dark-blonde hair, letting the strands run through my fingers as I pull away.
“Yeah, we should.” I lean in to whisper into her ear. “But, first, I believe I need to finish something that was interrupted earlier.”
She stares ahead with wide eyes, but otherwise keeps her mouth closed.
A small wave is sent to Wren and Gus before I’m taking Oakleigh upstairs to my bedroom.
My heart stutters as I lead her up the stairs, everything in me screaming and reminding me that this is something I’ve done nothing more than dream of for over a decade.
I pray that Oakleigh can’t feel the way my hands are becoming clammy, my nerves clearly displaying themselves all over my tinted neck and face, my beating heart and clumsy steps.
I trip on the stairs three times before we reach the top and I stay looking ahead for fear my embarrassment will deepen.
I slowly open the door. Light spreads to every corner of my bedroom, the blue feature wall, the simple four-poster standing flush against it. It’s all simple, the bare minimum, since I never thought I would be here for long. And I won’t be, I suppose, if Wren is planning on moving out soon.
The minute my brain understands where we are, exhaustion takes over, making me force each muscle to cooperate. My body feels heavy, my head weighing ten times more than it did. A yawn breaks free, and I stretch my aching muscles. Leaning over a pool table for an hour is not good for the back.
I turn to find Oakleigh stuck in the doorway, looking around like she’s lost and confused.
“I usually take the right side, but if it’s the side you prefer, then it’s yours.”
She looks at me nervously. “You’re okay sharing a bed?” she asks.
“Why? Should I be scared? Are you going to do something to me while I’m sleeping?”
She rolls her eyes and shucks off her denim jacket. “Unless you mean something like draw a penis on your face with permanent marker, then no, you’re safe.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
She sits down on the right side of the bed.
“You’ve done that out of spite, haven’t you?”
“Let’s just say that at home, my shit is on the left bedside table.”
“Of course.” I sigh as I rip my shirt off and leave it in the hamper. My T-shirt is next, leaving me in just my pants. I hear a small gasp behind me and I still.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten that Oakleigh is here, it’s more that being modest as I change hadn’t really occurred to me. Oakleigh’s presence has always comforted me, always made me think that I can be whatever or whoever I need to be. I just wish I’d remembered that before I ruined our date.
I turn back to face her and what I see halts my plans immediately.
She looks exhausted. I’m not surprised since she’s been working like crazy over the past couple of weeks.
My plan was to pick up exactly where we left off earlier.
I never leave a woman feeling unsatisfied, and we were interrupted.
I planned to have her begging me for more and moaning my name enough that it’s the only thing she remembers how to say.
But as I watch her now, her eyes are opening and closing very slowly, her head lowering a little before she snaps it up again.
The shadows under her eyes are becoming prominent.
My woman needs to rest.
“You’ve got two options,” I tell her, kneeling in front of her and placing my hands on her thighs.
“We can either pick up where we left off and you fall asleep straight after a mind-blowing orgasm.” Oakleigh sends me a look of disbelief.
“Or, we get into bed and get some rest and pick that particular activity back up when you can remember what day it is.”
I want to kiss that guilty smile off her face when she says, “Is it really selfish if I say I want to go to sleep?”
I reach up to leave a soft kiss on her temple. “Not in the slightest.”
Usually, I strip completely, ridding myself of the pants and the underwear so they can be replaced by pajama pants, but I think that if I do that, she might freak out. So, instead, I grab a clean pair of pants and head toward the door.
“I’m just going to change into these. I’ll be a minute.”
“You scared I’ll want to jump your bones if I see your briefs, Southwick?” Oakleigh attempts to smirk, but it’s strained, forced.
“You jump my bones any time you want, Michaels. But I was more going into the bathroom because the briefs don’t typically accompany me to bed.”
Her smirk falters and her eyes widen. It slides off her face and transfers to mine because her reaction was causing no other response than a smirk of my own. I head into my en suite bathroom and shut the door behind me. I don’t bother locking it.
It takes me all of a minute to change from my beige pants and underwear into the red checkered pants that I sleep in.
I head out of the bathroom and straight to my wardrobe. The black T-shirt that I pull out for Oakleigh hits her square in the face. She whips it off her face and sends me a deadly glare.
“Oops,” I say innocently, a playful shrug rubbing salt further into the wound.
I hear her mumble something about me being an asshole as she storms her way over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I hop into the left side of the bed and wait for her to come back.
My mind reels as I try and think about what to do while we’re in this position.
We have to share a bed, that much is clear.
She’s not sleeping on the floor, and frankly speaking, neither am I.
Even if Wren was to knock, that’s nowhere near enough warning for me to clean up everything on the floor and hop into bed like I’ve been there all night.
So, like an adult, I will sleep next to my girlfriend and be grateful for this chance.
If Oakleigh decides that something more is what she wants, then like a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll provide it. I won’t push and I won’t bring it up.
I lean across the bed to pick up the drawings I’ve been working on for the house.
Even though I’ve sent off the plans for planning permission, my mind has still been going nonstop.
It’s been a tape with no pause button and I’m not sure I even want it to stop.
I’ve been loving this long, creative streak I’ve been on.
Usually, creativity is like holding water in your hands, serves a purpose while you have it, but it does slip through your fingers no matter how hard you try.
But you can always refill it, sometimes it just takes longer.
I’ve been loving drawing. It’s been a release whenever I need it; a welcome distraction.
Instead of needing to refill my creative energy, I’ve been almost unable to empty it.
It makes me wonder what more I can do. What else can I imagine?
What can I surprise myself by doing? Can I draw something risky? Bold? Daring?
“What are you working on?”
I didn’t even hear Oakleigh come back in.
I rub out a small mistake in the top corner. “Some sketches I’ve been working on.”
“For your house?”
“Mmm.”