“And if I do?”
My mind whirls like a storm as a sense of déjà vu sends my memories hurtling back to eight months ago, when a single kiss managed to disrupt my entire brain structure. Since then, I’ve kissed a total of two men, and neither of them even touched the sides of the hole that Finn left that night. Neither of them managed to stir up such a reaction as Finn does with me.
Anger seeps into my bones, because how fucking dare he do this to me. How dare he make it so that my nerves are severed in a way that only he can heal. How dare he disrupt my life with one little kiss. And how fucking dare he not experience the same reaction.
I want him to struggle as I do. I want him to look at another woman and feel his initial attraction to her disappear because he notices that her lips are nothing like mine; that they don’t taste the same because they aren’t smothered in cherry-flavored lip gloss.
A smirk tugs at my lips as I stare down the man in front of me.
“Be careful of the challenges you put in front of me, Finley.”
His head tilts in silent warning, but I don’t care. My skin feels like it’s on fire and my brain and body are warring with one another. He needs to feel the same. He needs to struggle as I struggle. It’s only fair.
His movements are slow, calculated. His lips skate across my jawline, not a kiss in sight, but something much more intimate and heated. He lets out a purposeful breath across the shell of my ear. A hand reaches up and grabs the front of my loose T-shirt in his fist, pulling me until I’m flush against him.
I’m hot, I’m restless, I’m desperate, I’m?—
“Get in the car, Cherry.”
—fucking furious.
I stare at Finn like he’s lost his mind. He releases my shirt and moves around me, opening the passenger door and waiting for me to get in. I do so in a dazed fever dream that I honestly don’t know if I want to remain in or wake up from.
He hops into the driver’s side, his long legs barely fitting in my small car. Before I can protest, he reaches over me, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls my seatbelt across my body and clicks it into place.
He straps himself in, looks over at me and smiles. “Come on, friend, let’s get you home.”
* * *
I’m woken up by quiet shouting coming from my living room.
It took what felt like forever to fall asleep, my body still reeling from that moment in the parking lot. And that’s exactly what it was—a moment. A hot, confusing, and demanding moment that has ensured Finn has a hold on my…well, my everything. Nothing, and I mean nothing, worked to get me to sleep except the obvious…my right hand and my overactive imagination. The knowledge that Finn was asleep on the other side of my thin wall did nothing but heighten every sensation.
The arguing becomes slightly louder outside. Whispered shouts that echo throughout my small cottage and tell me that my best friend is inside my house. I get out of bed and groggily put some clothes on. I’m two seconds away from opening the door when I freeze.
This doesn’t feel like something I should really intrude on. I’d be interrupting a private conversation between brother and sister. Then again, it’s pretty obvious that the conversation is about Finn’s and my impromptu relationship, so maybe I have a right to include myself? But how can I when Wren sounds so fired up and wounded?
“Cherry, you can come out.”
How?
I sheepishly open my bedroom door and poke my head out.
“Hey.” I mumble.
Finn flicks his head, motioning for me to come over. I have a clear view of him from my bedroom—loose-fitting brown pants and a white tee that gently hugs every muscle. He holds an arm out for me, and I reluctantly put myself against his side, allowing him to wrap an arm around my waist. He turns me until my chest is flush against his stomach.
A subtle kiss is placed on my forehead.
“Hey, look at me.”
I warily do as he asks. Warm hazel eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles down at me.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“What?” I ask, noticing Wren in my peripheral standing with her arms crossed.
“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I deserved that night on the couch, to be honest.”
