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Finn gives a small nod.
“It never goes away, does it?” He’s back to staring at nothing in particular.
“What?”
His hazel eyes cut back to mine. “This fucking void.”
I catch on instantly.
“It does,” I disagree. “But only when you’re ready to let go.”
He says nothing.
“Are you?” I ask and instantly wish I could take it back. It’s like my words just gutted him in the stomach. I see a twinge of rage stirring in his gaze, and he looks down.
“Is anyone?” he mutters.
His phone pings with a text before I can reply, and he pulls it out of his pocket. It’s past 3:00 a.m. Who could be texting him at 3:00 a.m.?
It comes to me.
A girl, who else?
Maybe the same girl as last time? His gaze skims over the screen briefly, and he shoves the phone back into his pocket without answering.
“Booty call?” I question.
He shrugs. “Not sure she counts as a booty call.”
What is she, then?
His special friend?
“I assume you’re talking about Brie?”
“Nosey much?” he taunts.
“Very much.” I own up to it.
He cracks a small grin, seemingly surprised by my honesty.
“Don’t stay here on my account. By all means, go see her.”
He pauses.
“What makes you think I want to fuck Brie again?”
Apart from the fact that she’s a stick-thin, drop-dead gorgeous red-haired goddess? Gee, Finn, I don’t know.
“Hey, I’m not judging.” I snort, my stomach churning. “It’s just… Last I checked, making good decisions isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
I wait for him to put me in my place, the way he did two days ago, but instead, he grabs the bottle of whiskey he probably found in his dad’s stash and takes a long sip.
He confronts me as soon as he’s put the bottle down.
“Why don’t you say what you really mean?”
I force a laugh. “Which is what exactly?”
