He holds the door open for me and waits. I shake away whatever confusing disappointment or apprehension I can before picking up my keys and walking out to his car.
* * *
“Are you not afraid that your car will get dirty?” I ask, trying my best to sound like I’m taunting him like I usually do, but it comes out a little flat.
The whole journey has been silent, the car stuffy with awkwardness even though the windows are open. I spent the entire time just trying to think of something to say, and I think maybe so has Finn. It’s either that or he was conducting a heated discussion with the intrusive thoughts inside his head, because I would occasionally hear a harsh whisper and would turn to see a deep frown on his face.
Frustration sitting between us, I can handle. Arguments filling the space we occupy: normal. Hell, even the occasional shared laughter maybe once every five months. But never awkwardness. It’s new and almost impossible to navigate. I want him to say something, insult me in some way, but it’s almost as if he’s going out of his way to avoid even looking at me.
Finn’s head snaps round to me, shock on his face like he’d forgotten that I’m here. The briefest smirk comes and goes. “Because it’s white, or because all men seemingly are obsessed with their cars?”
“Both?” I answer.
“I’m not really much of a car guy,” he says, looking out the window.
I wait for him to then answer my question, but any further response never comes. Now, a wave of irritation is striking like a tsunami, because he’s the one who was about to kissme.
I huff out a breath. “Look, whatever may or may not have been about to happen earlier, you need to get over it, because I really don’t need your shitty attitude while we’re here.”
His eyes widen as he tries to say something, but I cut him off. “No, listen. If you regret almost kissing me, fine, regret it. I don’t care.” My stomach lurching tells me I’m lying. “But we’re here with your mom today, and that means you might just have to suck it up and do it once or twice. But if the thought of kissing me is that bad, then hurry up and find an excuse for us to not do it.”
He makes a choked noise as I storm out of the car, not bothering to wait for him.
“Oakleigh!”
I ignore him and carry on walking.
“Cherry, please.”
A strong hand grabs me by the elbow and spins me around. Finn looks panicked and confused.
“Cherry, where the hell did that come from?Idon’t want to kissyou? Are you insane?”
“Finn, I really don’t need the pointless explanation.”
I’m about to turn around and continue walking, but the next thing I know I have Finn’s broad shoulder tucked in just under my stomach and my feet are swept off the floor as I’m thrown into a fireman’s lift.
“Finn!” I shout, pounding my fist against his back. He ignores me. “Finley!”
A swift smack on my ass makes me gasp.
“I’d stop screaming. People are starting to stare.”
“They’re probably staring because I’m being carried against my will by a fucking caveman!”
I feel his low hum against my stomach, and it sets off that weird stomach-churning sensation.
I don’t give Finn an easy time. I punch and I kick and I shout at him, even when he tells me to be quiet. I try and draw as much attention to him as I can. I hope he feels embarrassed.
One of my kicks thankfully catches him right in the dick. He stops walking for a minute, bending slightly as he lets out a loud groan.
“Are you kidding me?” he moans.
“Next time, you should put me down when I tell you to!”
After a few minutes, he carries on walking.
I lift my head so that my blood stops pooling at the top of my head. He’s taking us into the festival, through the arch made of hundreds of cherry blossoms. Had I been in a normal situation, I would have taken the time to admire the festival as we move into the hustle and bustle. I can see there are stalls lining the walkway, but I’m given no time to read the signs or even see a glimpse of what they sell, because instead of following the main path, Finn moves in between two stalls and across the large field where the festival is taking place.
