I go and hug her. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t just you,” I explain. “I didn’t tell anyone. It felt like it just belonged to the two of us. And then, after he left, I just felt like a fool. Like everyone would laugh or feel sorry for me, for thinking it would last. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.”
“You’re talking to the wrong girl about that.” Lottie snorts. “Try getting knocked up at seventeen, then you’ll know what pity feels like.” But her words aren’t bitter. That’s what always amazes me about my sister. Despite everything that’s happened, she’s always been resolute in her choices.
I wish I could be so brave.
We take our food and go collapse on the couch, but instead of reaching for the remote to catch up on our latest TV shows, Lottie looks over at me. She nibbles on her pizza, then finally asks, “So, did he explain?” I nod. I don’t feel like it’s my story to tell, so I’m glad when Lottie doesn’t push for answers. “And what are you guys going to do now?”
Scratch that. I’d take anything except the question I’ve been avoiding myself. I try to brush it off. “We don’t know just yet. We’re taking things as they come.”
“You both are, or he is?” Damn my sister for seeing through my casual act. Lottie sighs. “Eva.”
“Don’t.” I stop her. “I know, we need to talk about it, but can’t I just enjoy this for right now?”
“Sure you can,” she says, sounding wise beyond her years. “But isn’t that what got you in trouble last time?”
I glare. “Way to ruin my happy buzz.”
Lottie laughs. “Anytime.”
“Just for that, we’re watching Girls, and not your Fast and Furious marathon.” I grab the remote.
“Not fair!” Lottie cries, trying to wrestle it away from me. “Birthday trump card, remember?”
“How long are you going to use that?”
She checks her phone. “Another six hours,” she says smugly. A familiar wail comes from upstairs. “See?” she says, getting up. “Kit agrees. Vin Diesel all the way, baby.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” I call after her as she heads upstairs.
We make it halfway through the third movie before she falls asleep beside me, curled up on the couch. Sure enough, his afternoon nap means Kit has no interest in sleeping now. He’s in my arms, transfixed by the explosions on-screen. Like mother, like child.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I wriggle to get it out. It’s a message from Finn.
Hows the sleepover?
Sleepy :) I type back.
Get your rest, because you’ll need it.
I grin. For what?
You’ll see. Sweet dreams. Xo
Xo
I put my phone down, my mind already running riot back to memories of his mouth grazing over my body, his hands driving me to the brink – and beyond.
It would be easier if he didn’t spark this fire in me. Easier, and way less hot. But there’s something that crackles in the air between us. There always has been. Call it chemistry, call it fate, but the end result is something so passionate and wild, it makes a mockery of any other man. I’ve spent five years searching for this feeling, and Finn is the only one who ever set my heart on fire. I know I’m young, and I can hear all the safe, explanations running through my head. But I know, deep down, he’s the one for me.
This brave, wounded, infuriating man is all I want in the world, but the problem is, I know how it feels to watch him walk away.
Losing him the first time sent me into a freefall, and derailed all the dreams I’d been working towards. I know it’s not his fault. Those were my choices, however foolish and immature, but the end result was the same. Heartbreak.
Devastation.
Now, I can’t help being scared it might happen a second time around. If I let myself love him with all my heart, and throw myself headfirst into this new connection, I have no guarantees it all won’t shatter into pieces and leave me broken again. It’s a big risk to take, especially when Finn hasn’t said anything about sticking around.
Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow I’ll have the conversation with him, and figure out where all this is heading. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll be someplace good.
Nineteen.
When Lottie, Kit, and I arrive for brunch at the harbor, Finn is already there with Dee, trading rock star gossip at a table by the water like they’ve been best friends for years.
“Hey beautiful.” He gets up when he sees me, and my heart does a slow flip. He’s looking dangerously hot with his hair pulled back in a manbun, and two-day stubble on his gorgeous jaw. His eyes twinkle, aqua blue in the sun. He makes room beside him, and kisses me gently on the lips when I sit down. “Have fun last night?”
I smile. “I have a newfound respect for muscle cars,” I tell him. He looks puzzled, but I’m already taking in the spread of food on the table. “You ordered!” I exclaim happily.
“I know my place,” he jokes. “Never let a woman get hungry.”
I grin. “You won’t like us when we’re hungry.” I grab a strip of bacon, and steal some pancakes from his plate.
“Eat your own,” he protests, nudging my plate closer.
“I want to try both. What’s yours is mine.” I scoop up a forkful of his strawberries.
Finn smirks, “Is that how this works?”