“Maybe because I need to know?”
“Well, now you know. There.”
Finn lets out a breath and his shoulders drop. He drags a hand through his hair and down his face before slumping down onto the back of my couch.
“Why did you need to know if you were ready?” he asks. When he looks up at me, there’s something that looks an awful lot like hope in his eyes. I look away.
“You know full well that I don’t really have a good track record with men.”
Finn stands and moves closer, and I, like an idiot, stand my ground. He reaches behind me and grabs the end of my ponytail, twirling the ends around his fingers. The action feels strangely intimate.
“Not a good track record?”
I shake my head, not trusting my words. I can smell his signature spicy scent and it does something to my brain, like a wire that short-circuits.
“And what if that track record could change? Could end?”
“I—”
I stare into the hazel eyes of the man before me, and I’m overwhelmed by the plethora of emotions within them. There’s kindness and patience and something that sparkles at the corners. The brightness brings out the honey tones and the greens and makes them glow. It’s…a lot. It’s too much.
I shake my head vigorously, so much so that Finn is forced to drop my hair from his hands. I hastily step back and sidestep him to move into the kitchen. I take deep breaths but none of them seem to calm the raging war inside of me. Confused. I’m confused.
“Why are you here, Finn?” I ask, my voice croaky.
I’m facing away from him, so I don’t know what he’s doing. All I know is that the lack of warmth around me tells me he’s thankfully keeping his distance.
Eventually he clears his throat. “I, um…Yeah, I’m here.”
“Why?” I ask impatiently.
He “ums and ahs.”
“I messed up.”
My eyes narrow at my kitchen sink. “What did you do?”
Ollie saunters into the room, his meows loud and demanding. I turn just in time to see Finn immediately pick him up, subconsciously stroking him as if he’s some kind of service animal. Not that my cat seems to have a problem with that, if his purring is anything to go by.
“I was trying to plan somewhere to take you. There’s this cherry festival over in Merton that I thought you’d love—they have everything cherry flavored. I thought, ‘oh, great, I can take her here, you know? Maybe even make her smile at me for the first time in fifteen years.’”
I file away my feelings on the last part, as well as my unidentified sensibilities about this trip he seems to have planned just for me.
“And?” I ask, trying to sound cool, calm and collected.
“And, well, I accidentally ended up bringing it up in conversation to my mom and now she insists on coming with us.”
Great.
“So, now, what? We’re going on a date with your mom?”
He gives me a look. “You think I could say no?”
“Well, did you even try?”
I know Wanda can be a little stubborn, but sometimes if you say the right thing, she backs off.
Finn’s arms flail about and Ollie drops down to the floor. “Of course I tried, Lee! I tried for a good solid two fucking hours, but if you’re as stubborn as an ox, then my mother is next level; like—I don’t know—her horns are dipped in some kind of goddamn silver.”
