Page 22 of Finn's Future

I couldn't make out the words, only the sharp edge in their voices.

Finn scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his shoulders taut with frustration. The woman crossed her arms, chin lifted, waiting. He shook his head once, firmly enough that even from the bedroom window I knew the answer was no. She moved closer, saying something I couldn't make out, but Finn didn't close the gap. Instead, he moved back half a step, putting space between them, his jaw set so tightly I could almost feel the tension from where I stood. A moment later she climbed into her car and drove away.

Finn stood in the driveway for a few seconds before dragging a hand over his face.

A minute later, footsteps sounded on the stairs. I hurried back beneath the blankets just as Finn nudged the bedroom door open.

He carried a bottle of water, a packet of crackers and a small paper bag. "Maria insisted you take these." He held out the bag. "Painkillers."

The easy calm he'd worn earlier had vanished, replaced by something tight around his eyes.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

His gaze flicked to me for the briefest second. "Yeah. Don’t worry about me, just get some rest.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

I pulled the covers up to my chin and lay staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever before sleep finally dragged me under.

When I woke, the sunlight had shifted lower across the walls.

Panic hit.

Noah.

I sat up too quickly, my eyes darting around the room, before I remembered he was with Lucy.

Then a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” I called, feeling stupid because it was his house, but appreciating the privacy.

Finn came in slowly, holding a mug, but the first thing I noticed was how he’d taken off his leather vest and how his T-shirt pulled tight across his chest and shoulders.

“You’re up.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Couple of hours.”

“Lucy?”

“She texted. They’re good. He’s fine.” Finn watched me carefully like he could see every emotion crossing my face. “You hungry?”

I shook my head automatically, but my stomach growled loudly enough to betray me.

His mouth twitched slightly. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Thought so.”

“I can sort something,” I said quickly. “You’ve done enough.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

I nodded eagerly because cooking felt normal and safe and that was something I hadn’t had in a long time.

Finn followed me downstairs while I searched through cupboards and the fridge trying to figure out what I could make.

The kitchen slowly filled with soft sounds that felt strangely comforting. A pan warming on the stove. Vegetables chopping against the board. The quiet hum of the fridge. I hadn’t realized how much I missed normal things until then.

Finn leaned against the counter, watching me for a while before stepping in automatically whenever I needed something.

“Salt?” he asked, already reaching into the cupboard.