“I didn’t even tell my own sister, and you’re upset I didn’t tell you sooner?”
I still need to talk to Wren about everything. I feel horrible for not doing so already, but work kept me on my toes yesterday and it didn’t seem like something you call your best friend to discuss over a twenty-minute lunch break.
“Bash, I— No, I hadn’t told anyone about the kiss.”
My eyes close, regret forcing them shut. Why the hell did I have to mention that kiss at lunch?
“Because I didn’t know how to.” Finn groans and I imagine him digging his fingers into his closed eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not exactly something small, you know?”
After a minute, I hear him shift and say, “Of course I’m in love with her. I’ve been in love with her since the first moment I laid eyes on her, for fuck’s sake.”
My heart stutters but I force myself to shake it off, making it resume its admittedly staggering heartbeat. He’s simply telling Bash whatever he needs to.
“My plan is to not make a big deal out of this. We carry on like normal. The only difference is that it’s my girlfriend yelling at me, not my sister’s best friend.”
It’s a joke, I know. The lilt to his voice is light and comforting, but that doesn’t stop the thrill that zips its way down my spine.
“Bash.” Finn sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re still on for Wednesday night…No, I promise I won’t do anything else crazy until then…Sebastian just get the fuck off my phone, please, I’m trying to not wake Oakleigh up.”
Whatever Bash says next draws a low chuckle from Finn that I feel in my core.
“Yeah, bro. Bye.”
The glow from his phone screen illuminates the floor right by my feet. I take a quiet step back, as if that warm white light will burn me. My living room and kitchen are thankfully holding the morning sunlight at bay thanks to the blinds covering the windows that run along two walls.
I hear him readjust his position on the couch before he says, “You done eavesdropping?”
Damn.
With a sigh and a shake of my head, I step out from behind the wall and welcome the sight of a shirtless Finn sitting on my couch. He leans over the back of it, arms bulging as he rests his chin in the crook of his arm. His smile is teasing and victorious. The floor lamp beside him is on, warm light coating his caramel skin.
“Hi,” he says with a tired smile.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice just as exhausted. “You’re still up.”
“So are you.”
“So I am.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I shy away from him, my body curling in on itself.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he stands up and walks toward me. Seeing him like this is…a lot. The muscles, the definition, the clear strength. Toning that only comes about from hard, physical labor. It’s a complete contradiction to his face; sharp features surrounded by soft personality.
“Why would anything be wrong?” I take a hasty step back.
“You look like Ollie just shat all over your carpet.”
