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Once the shower is turned on and warm, I stand under the spray and let the water run down my face, willing it to wash away the bad memories. But the longer I stand, the more obvious it becomes that they’re not going anywhere.
* * *
Once Finn got into the shower, he took his time bathing me. His delicious fingers scrubbed my scalp and worked conditioner into my ends, lathering every square inch of me with a sudsy loofah. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had a more relaxing experience. Something about him holding me against him while he scrubbed me washed away most of the anxiety I felt when I woke up. Not once during the whole shower did he pressure me to explain to him what happened. He just let me enjoy the moment, being there with him.
Now that I’m calm and not entirely on edge, I feel ready to explain it. As much as I want to know each of them, I want them to know me and my past. Cece and how she died is part of that. Once we get out of the shower, Finn silently dries my hair and wraps me in a fluffy white towel before tying his own around his waist. I move towards the vanity to pull my comb out of one of the drawers as he grabs my wrist. “Let me.”
He pulls the comb from its designated drawer and gently detangles the ends of my hair before working through the rest of my unruly curls. Standing in front of him, my back to his chest, I can’t help but stare at the picture in front of me in the mirror. The way he gently brushes my hair after taking such good care of me in the shower is enough to bring tears to my eyes. Then it hits me. He has no idea what happened or why I was so upset, so this is what he’s doing to try to fix it.
I can’t help but admire the man in the mirror who is now raking my multitude of products through my hair. He really is gorgeous. He’s the most classically handsome of the three. The blonde hair that he usually keeps so perfectly styled is now disheveled and looks a few shades darker from being wet. And his beard. God, that beard. I could spend all day running my fingers through it.
How did I get so lucky to have this sweet, misunderstood man and Ronan and Mac as well?
I constantly feel like my life is spinning out of control, like I’m walking on unsteady ground, just waiting for the earth to spit open and swallow me whole. But the three of them make me feel steady. They make me feel grounded. After knowing me for such a short time, they are so sure that they’d do anything for me. They would kill for me.
Shit, now I really am going to cry.
Finn must notice a tear roll down my cheek. He wipes the product left on his hands on his towel and grabs me by the shoulders, spinning me to face him. He slides his hands up and cups my face in his hands, “Talk to me, Angel. Tell me what’s going on.”
I suck in a shaky breath. “It was just a bad dream.”
“Okay. A bad dream about what? You seemed terrified when I woke you up.”
“I dreamt about the night that Cece died. I replayed the whole thing all over again. It was so real, Finn. I felt like I was holding her in my arms. I felt so helpless. So weak.” Tears are now streaming down my face. I rarely allow myself to think about it, willing myself to keep moving forward and not focus on the bad things that have happened. It’s the only way I know how to survive.
“I know what it’s like to lose the people you love. To have them taken from you. I know how fucking helpless it can make you feel. But I also know,” he lowers his forehead so it’s resting against mine, “I know how strong you are. You have survived more in your life than anyone should have to go through. You’re rising to the challenges life throws at you without backing down. I know it may feel like it, but you are anything but helpless and weak.”
“I just feel like my entire life has been one big tornado spinning out of control, and I have no idea how to stop it, Finn. Everyone I have ever loved has up and died, and I’ve never been able to do anything to prevent it. I don’t want to have made it through all of this just to have my life taken from me now. I have survived too much. I’ve already had enough taken from me. Haven’t I?” I’m not sure where this is coming from, but I apparently need to let it out to someone. Obviously, my memories of Cece aren’t entirely to blame for my sudden sense of panic. All my emotions and worries seemed to have reached a boiling point, and the dream was just my mind’s way of getting me to acknowledge them.
Not cool, brain. Not cool.
“Yes. Yes, you have. We’ve got you, Angel. We’re here to help you and won’t let anything bad happen. All of this will get figured out, and you will be able to live the life you want, the way you deserve. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say as I let out a deep sigh.
Finn searches my eyes, trying to decipher whether I truly believe him. I’m honestly not sure if I do, not entirely, at least. I know the three of them can promise until they’re blue in the face that they won’t let anything happen to me, but I know that isn’t realistic. They can’t control everything, and if something or someone wants me bad enough, they will find me.
When he can’t find the answers he’s looking for in my eyes, he pulls me out of the bathroom, from my room, and towards his.
“Finn, what are you doing?”
“Going to my room, I have an idea.”
I silently hold his hand as he drags me down the hallway. His room is at the opposite end of the hall than mine, and we have to walk past Mac and Ronan’s to get to it. I expect them to be asleep with the doors closed considering it’s almost three in the morning. Ronan’s is shut tight, but as we approach Mac’s, I notice it’s not closed all of the way. Hopefully, my screaming didn’t wake him up. Maybe I should peek my head in and let him know I’m okay. I try to wiggle my hand free of Finn’s, but he’s got a tight grip. I know he’s not letting go, dead set on whatever idea he has cooking up in that brain of his.
As we pass Mac’s door, I peek inside to find him sitting in bed watching TV. I’m about to say something when he smiles and winks one of those stormy gray eyes at me. He doesn’t move from the spot on his bed, though. Giving me the alone time with Finn that we need.
Still wrapped in his towel, Finn shoves his door open and pulls me through it. Once I’m inside, he kicks it closed with his foot. Every time I’m in his room, I smile. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t think anyone even sleeps here. The charcoal gray duvet on his bed is pulled so tight it looks like you could bounce a quarter off it, and there isn’t an article of clothing in sight. His solid black bed frame and dresser stand out against the stark white walls, and the light gray curtains frame each window are perfectly pleated. There are no personal effects in his room other than a small framed picture of his parents on his dresser. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine a space that screamed “Finn” more than this one.
Behind me, I hear the distinct noise of a towel hitting the ground. “Drop the towel, Angel.”
33
Harper
Finn walks around to stand in front of me with a devious look. I untuck the cotton towel and let it fall to the floor, watching as Finn’s eyes roam my body, appreciating every part of me, not just the toned and perfect parts, but the imperfect ones too. These men love my body for what it is. Flawed. However, I know they don’t see it that way at all. They worship my curves and my cellulite. They trace my stretch marks with their tongues, and I am fucking here for it. Slowly but surely, they make me see my body for what it is. It’s not flawed at all. My body is perfect. It’s sexy and powerful. It’s a body that makes three insanely powerful men fall to their knees.
Once his eyes reach my face, I see the fire that’s always burning in his eyes, looking for something to reach out and destroy. To most, Finn looks like an absolute dream, but right now, he looks like a nightmare. I’ve never seen him look at me quite like this. It’s so captivating it’s terrifying. How he’s looking at me strips me bare, and I know all of my deepest, darkest desires lie within his reach.
