They seem to be building an extension onto a house while also doing up the main house itself. An entire renovation. The house is a skeleton, only the metal beams and concrete foundation remain to let you know there was a house there to begin with. Piles of bricks lay strewn around the site as well as bags of building materials and blueprints.
I hear him before I see him. That rich, carefree laugh hits me and melts down my spine. When I see him, my mouth goes dry. Worn-out jeans cover his legs, shaping a very toned behind. But on top? Nothing. Nada. Just a shirtless Finn carrying sacks of plaster around like it’s absolutely nothing. I did notice that he doesn’t spend an awful amount of time in the gym, and yet his body is still one to admire with its corded muscle and toned abs, and I can see how. Who needs the gym when your whole job is one big workout?
Finn does a double-take when he sees me, hazel eyes wide, body frozen. His expression morphs into concern as he takes in my features, the crumpled purple top that matches the bags under my eyes and the mismatched socks that peak out from the tops of my sneakers.
I know my skin is pale and my mascara is smudged—why I even decided to wear mascara to work today I have no idea—but overall, I just look like absolute shit.
He storms over to me, concern quickly becoming frustration. By the time he reaches me, he’s breathing heavy, his chest heaving.
“Why are you not at home sleeping?” he asks. No “hello,” no “how are you?’”
“I…uh…” I stutter, no longer confident that this was a good idea. “I wanted to bring you some breakfast and some coffee since you have to work today.”
His eyebrows dip, but sooner or later, a smile works its way onto his lips.
“You brought me breakfast?”
“Nothing special, just waffles and syrup with some blueberries.”
I pass him the Tupperware container that I found lodged in the back of my kitchen cupboard. His eyebrows raise.
“Youmademe breakfast?”
“Don’t go getting a big head about it,” I tease, but even that is taking up too much energy. I’m in the fucking minus now.
Quicker than I can keep track of, Finn places the container on the back of a truck next to us and takes my face in his hands.
“What happened at work today?” he asks as he inspects my face.
“What didn’t happen.” I try and laugh but it comes out sounding more like a strangled cry.
“Cherry.”
“I’m okay. I’m just really tired. It’s been a long week.”
He watches me for what feels like several long minutes, searching my face for something that I can’t quite pinpoint. His thumb softly grazes my cheek and I lean into his hand, grateful for the comfort.
He turns toward the rest of his team.
“Raze!”
The man who I’m assuming is Raze lifts his head. He’s a young guy, maybe a few years younger than I am—blond curls going crazy on top of his head, and green eyes that could start a traffic jam.
“Whoa,” I mumble under my breath.
“Don’t even,” Finn snaps at me before turning back to Raze. “I’m taking my girl home. I’ll be back in a half hour, okay?”
Raze nods and turns toward the team, yelling out some commands that I’m too tired to listen to.
“Finn, you don’t have to. Bash is waiting outside for me.”
“He can follow us, but whether you like it or not, I’m driving you home.”
He grabs my hand, leading me out the gate.
“Wait!” I cry. “Your waffles.”
He stops and sighs.
