“Hell, yeah. Just you, though.”
Now, he’s smiling down at me, his face full of relief, and I’m happy I can do this for him; help him take that small step from people-pleaser to a self-respecting individual. When he set a boundary between himself and Wren, I was surprised, but very proud of him. He did that all on his own with no prompting from anyone else, and I really hope that he is proud of himself for that, too.
“Thank you.”
“What for?” he asks.
“Just this whole experience. It’s been…something. Good for me, I think.”
“Good for the both of us,” he amends, and I nod in agreement. He pulls me closer until I’m nestled into his side. I rest my head on his chest and allow his calm and steady heartbeat to relax mine. His warmth makes me want to fall asleep and his hand now tracing circles on my lower back send my eyes drifting.
That is, until Finley comes out with, “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“Pretend what?”
“That I don’t want this.”
I move my head further up his body and place my hand where my head was so I don’t lose that connection with his heartbeat.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
He nudges me with his shoulder letting me know he wants me to sit up. When I do, he looks bordering on frantic, and I’m now wondering what I missed that took him from calm and content, to this.
“Cherry, I want out.”
My heart sinks, everything sinks. Panic floods my system like an alarm ringing in my body and I can hear nothing but blood rushing through me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Finley’s hands cup my face and I force myself to look at him. “Cherry, no, I wasn’t talking about us.”
“What the fuck else were you talking about?”
“I don’t want out of this relationship, I want out of pretending in this relationship. I’m done acting as if I’m pretending to be with you when I just want tobe with you.”
I’m a panicking lump of confusion.
“What—”
He brings my face closer to his and I can feel the shortness of his breath as it fans my face. “Cherry, when I say that I want out, I mean that I want out of the best-friend’s-brother zone. I want out. I want to be so far out of the zone that I can’t even see the zone.”
“You want out?” I repeat, not entirely sure that I’m actually hearing what I’m hearing.
His forehead touches mine and that one connection between us seems to knock some sense into me; his thoughts and meanings transferring themselves to me.
His eyes close and a mix of pain and desperation is in his features. Like this, the sharp lines of his face seem sharper, the cut of his jawline twice as deadly as it was before.
“God, I want out.”
“Then, go ahead and try, but I still don’t think you can?—”
It’s all the invitation that he needs. Finley’s mouth claims me in a heated kiss, setting off every nerve in my body. Every part of me comes alive when it feels the passion and the need coming from him. He’s desperate, and no one has ever been desperate to have me before. Impatient, sure, but never desperate. His tongue dips into my mouth, finding yet another way to take control. Every movement is calculated, every bite of my lip demanding.
He takes what he needs, and I let him. It makes me wonder what else he would be good at taking. If he would take and take and take until an orgasm had no choice but to rip through me.
That idea alone urges me forward until I’m on my knees beside him. But that’s not enough for Finn. He hooks the back of my knee, bringing it over him until I’m straddling his lap.
His smile is mischievous. “How am I doing so far?”
I feign boredom. “Eh, you’ve done better. I’m actually kind of fighting off the urge to yawn.”
