Page 25 of Cabin Fever

“Well, I’m going to kill Theo, so . . . “

Finn laughs. “The thing is, he’s a great guy. He loves her.”

“Yeah. I know.” I should feel relief that it wasn’t something worse, but dread sits in my stomach like a brick of ice.

I press my hand flat against my chest. “We already lived this and saw how it ends. It ends with your mom driving forty minutes to buy groceries and your sister crying into a pillow when she gets off the school bus.”

Finn bites his lower lip. “Maybe that’s one ending.”

I give him a look, and he holds up his hands. “I don’t pretend to know anything about what you went through. But . . .” He plants his palms on my shoulders and presses down so my muscles will relax. “What if your mom found out first?”

“She would’ve lost her mind.”

“I know, but what if he admitted it and stopped?”

I ponder that, imagining an alternate version of events. “I don’t think he would’ve.” Considering that he’s never given me an apology, even after he got out of prison.

“Exactly.” Finn’s hands are still on me, and I can’t help but melt into them a little. Just like there’s something about him that makes my hackles rise, there’s also a lot about him that affects me like a mug of hot cocoa.

“You think Theo will make changes.”

Finn nods, his hands lift, his pinkies barely grazing my arms as he pulls back. “He’s not doing anything wrong. He’s just embarrassed.”

I frown as a thought occurs to me. “Wait, did he tell you? Or did you find out?”

He leans back on his pillow, dropping his legs on my thighs.

I grunt, and Finn laughs. “I’m not that heavy.”

“Whatever! Your legs are like tree trunks.”

“Wow, way to fat-shame me.”

I laugh so hard I snort. Then, as I’m trying to push him off, a rush of emotion rolls through my chest, and my laugh transitions to the beginnings of a sob. Not a nice, quiet cry. An ugly, this-has-to-get-out-of-my-body now kind of cry.

“Whoa, hey.” Finn’s legs disappear, and he sits, pulling me against his side. That only makes it worse, and once again, I find myself crying into Finn Gallagher’s chest.

He wraps around me, and I barely notice when he pulls me horizontal, our bodies lining up like two halves of a folded letter. Finn’s hand moves slowly between my shoulder blades while I purge my emotions for a second time.

“I’m not usually like this,” I choke out.

“I was going to say⁠—”

“Do not say I used to be more fun.”

His laugh rumbles through me. “No, see? That was fun. I really think you’re finding yourself.”

I try to smack him, but my arms are pinned. “I’m getting your shirt wet.”

“It's Theo's shirt.”

“Why are you wearing Theo’s shirt?”

“He owes me. And I forgot mine.”

“For the rehearsal or the wedding?”

He scoffs. “Not the wedding. What kind of psychopath do you take me for?” His hand moves high enough, his fingers run over bare skin, and I shiver. “Just couldn’t wear the same thing to both. Need to make an impression.”