Lust pulls, low in my stomach. Oh boy. I should leave right now, put as much distance as possible between me and that hungry gaze as I can. But I reason with myself. I haven’t eaten anything in hours, and this is a crowded bar. Delilah’s right there waiting for me, too. It’s perfectly safe.
Because that’s the thing about Finn. He became my bad influence, the one person who sparked a hint of reckless rebellion. With him, I was suddenly adventurous and brave, always up for a new risk, as long as he was right there with me. And after he left… I chased that reckless feeling all the way to New York; trying my hardest to prove it wasn’t just him, that I could be brave all on my own, no matter how many clubs and bars and come-down morning-afters it took. It took me a long time to realize, those were just fake highs I was chasing.
Finn McKay was the only genuine rush around.
Tonight, I feel it all over again, snaking hot through my bloodstream, and making the hairs on my skin stand on end.
Just one drink, that tempting voice whispers in my mind. What harm will it do?
God, I’ve missed this feeling. There’s nothing like it in the world. So I forget the tears, and the heartbreak, and the secret I’ve carried for the last five years. “Sure,” I tell him. “Why not?”
Four.
As I step back inside, I make a quick, desperate vow to myself. I can play pretend. I’ll chat, and catch up, and betray nothing about the hurt he caused me. If Finn can act like nothing’s wrong, then I can do the same. It was just a high school fling, years ago. No reason for this emotion churning in my stomach, or the dizzy, light-headed feeling I get just looking at his gorgeous face again.
Casual. Friends. Simple.
It’s not like this morning, when I didn’t see him coming. Now that I’ve had a chance to process it all, I should be fine. We’ll have a beer, some easy conversation, and go our separate ways. Right?
I follow him across the room. Finn leads me to a booth in the corner, set away from the crowd. Romantic. I search out Delilah, and frantically beckon her over, but she just gives me a big thumbs up and turns back to her friends.
I’m on my own.
“The usual?” Finn asks, gesturing to the bar. For a moment, I’m tempted to order something new, something completely different to show how much I’ve changed since he’s been gone. But the truth is, I’ve been craving those chili fries all afternoon. I nod, and he answers with a smile. “Be right back.”
I slide into the booth, and in no time at all Finn is sitting opposite me again, lounging casual against the cracked leather booth. “I’ve missed this place. Every other bar in LA tries so hard to be like this, but it’s just not the same.”
“No sticky stains on the floor and gum under the tables?” I ask lightly.
“Exactly.” He grins. “Plus, Dixie’s one of a kind.” He reaches up to push back his hair. It falls almost past his shoulders now, and I’m struck with a sudden urge to reach out and touch it. I grip my beer and take a long gulp. Down, girl.
“Is that where you’re living now?” I ask.
“LA? Off and on. I have a place there, but I barely ever see it. The tour has been pretty much non-stop.” Finn exhales a long breath. “It started out just a few dates in Europe, back when the record was first released. But then the single hit, so they kept adding new dates. The States, and South America, back to Europe again…they wanted to keep going. But I had to tell my manager, one more show and I was going to drop dead right there on stage.”
“Still, that must have been amazing,” I tell him, envy creeping into my voice. “Seeing the world.”
Finn gives me a rueful smile. “You’d think, but most of it’s just hustling to get to the next show. When you do get a day off, all you want to do is sleep.”
“Aww.” I can’t help teasing. “Poor little rock star.”
Finn snorts, then wipes beer from his face. It’s such a familiar gesture that I find myself relaxing. When the waitress swings by with two steaming baskets of chili cheese fries, I groan. “Oh my God, I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” I devour it, not coming up for air until half my basket is gone. When I look up, Finn is watching me, amusement on his handsome face. I pause. “What? Do I have sauce all over my face?”
He shakes his head. “No, you’re good.”
I remind myself to eat like a person, rather than one of the dogs at the shelter. “So, all the travel aside, there must be some perks to the rock star lifestyle. C’mon,” I prompt him. “No VIP benefits at all?”
Finn smiles. “OK, so it’s not all bad. I love the music part, getting to play my songs and perform in front of those crowds. When they all sing along, and it hits me that they know every word of my words…” he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s pretty awesome.”