“What?”
He flicks his head, motioning for me to get on his back. “Hop on, Cherry. I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
I hesitate, even though my muscles are ironically jumping for joy and begging me to do it. Finn looks back over his shoulder.
“You coming?”
I place my hands on his shoulders and feel him tense at the contact. It makes me hesitate again, but his muscles then relax and I bend my legs before hopping up onto his back. His hands immediately come back to brace me under my thighs. My bare thighs. My shorts ride up enough that there’s nothing to provide a barrier between our skin. The problem with that is my thighs are really sensitive, and right now the rough calluses on Finn’s hands are brushing against the smooth underside of my thighs and there isn’t a single second between here and the car that I’m not going to be aware of that.
Finn turns to Wanda. “I’ll see for you lunch on Tuesday?”
She nods enthusiastically before awkwardly hugging us both. When she pulls away, there’s something clouding her features.
“Finn, if you’re struggling then I really wish that you’d?—”
“I’m okay, Ma.” One of his hands leaves my thigh to grab his mother’s hand. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Wanda searches his eyes for something. I’m not sure if she finds it or not. She doesn’t let anything but motherly concern show in her eyes and in the creases around her eyes. Somewhat reluctantly, she nods.
“Okay,” she says. She then looks up at me and smiles warmly, but concern stops it reaching her eyes. “Will you join us?”
I shake my head. “I wish I could, but that happens to be the one day I actually have been given a day shift, so I’ll be at work.”
She nods in understanding and gives my calf a squeeze.
“I love you both.” She blows us a kiss and heads to her own car.
“Mom!” Finn calls out. Wanda turns back around. “Let us walk you to your car.”
She waves him off. “I’m not that old yet, Finley. Enjoy your evening!”
“Can you at least message me when you get home?!” he yells after her.
I can hear her laugh, light as ever still swirling around us as the distance between us grows. Finn lowers his head and lets out a sigh. The tension returns to his shoulders.
Before I even know what I’m doing, I rub at his shoulders, kneading at the muscular planes of his body with the intent of rubbing out the intrusive thoughts I can tell are running through his mind, leaving scorched footsteps as they go.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Reminding you.”
He turns his head as much as he can, and it’s enough for me to see the way his thoughts plague him, control him. I don’t usually feel bad for Finn, but this is one area where I have always been empathetic.
It’s not the action itself that feels strange, the act of massaging his shoulders while I’m sat against his back. No, it’s the tenderness emanating from me, this need to make sure that he knows his mother will be safe. Years of disregarded attraction between us is finally catching up with me. And what’s worse is that it’s all built up over time. Instead of appearing and then dispersing when it realizes it’s not needed, it’s clung on to the space between us, just waiting for the moment we are closer and it can no longer be ignored.
“Reminding me of what?”
“Of whose voice you should be listening to.”
His eyebrows dip, flinch, more like, as if he’s just as confused as I am when it comes to my actions.
He doesn’t say anything else, he simply starts walking toward the car, and my massage ceases.
* * *
I’m choking on the awkwardness that sits between us. The car ride started off comfortable, the car making enough noise to keep us company, but the longer we went without talking, the more awkward it became. Now, it’s the kind of quiet that’s forcing me to shift in my seat every few minutes, hoping that the noise of my clothes against the leather seat is enough to fill the car for a second of reprieve.
“I never said thank you,” Finn says all of a sudden, his voice hoarse and low.
