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“I need you to talk to me. Please…” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“And I need you to leave me the fuck alone,” I fire back, staring him dead in the eyes as I do. On one hand, I can tell he’s relieved to hear me say something, but on the other, he obviously wishes that something was nicer.
A sigh hisses between his teeth.
Then he just leaves.
He turns around and heads for his car without another glance in my direction. I expected many reactions from him, but I didn’t think he would give up. At least, not that easily.
I watch him trail to his “home on wheels” and understand that I was wrong when he pops open the trunk of his car. He digs through the contents of his trunk for a few seconds. It isn’t long before he shuts the trunk closed and comes back.
This time, with a pair of shoes in his hands.
He slows down before me, and I arch my neck to look at him, still sitting on the sidewalk. He shocks me by dropping the shoes on the pavement next to me.
“Take them,” he says like I don’t have a choice in the matter.
I find myself eyeing the shoes. They’re old and well-worn, nothing like the costly shoes he used to wear when I first met him, but at least they’re dry.
Now that I think about it, even his clothes seem different. He used to wear branded clothes—courtesy of Daddy’s money—but now? He wears tattered jackets, faded baseball caps, and shabby jeans with holes I know aren’t there for the style. Even then, he looks so unbelievably hot it’s dizzying.
“I’m good,” I say dryly.
He’s not having it.
“I said take the shoes.”
I hold my own. “And I said I’m good.”
Finn chews on the inside of his cheek, debating on what to do next.
“Fine,” he breathes out.
Without a word, he walks away. I watch him climb inside his car, shoot me a final glance, and drive off.
Just like that.
His car shrinks in size until it’s gone, and I wonder when or if I’m going to see him again.
Not that I care.
My gaze drops to his sneakers, abandoned on the sidewalk. He left them behind on purpose. I’d be willing to bet he did that to force my hand. I can’t believe he would risk losing his shoes forever just to prove a point.
He’s obviously trying to show me that I’m not doing him any favors by taking the shoes. I’m helping myself. Oh, to hell with it.The guy almost killed me. The least he can do is keep my feet dry.
I toss my sock and slip inside the shoes. As much as I hate to admit it, they’re comfortable. Warm, too. I rise off the sidewalk and walk around for a bit. They’re too big for me, obviously, but this is going to have to do. I spin on my axis, scanning the road Finn drove down a few minutes ago, and I reflect on what he told me earlier. He said I haven’t changed, but I’m starting to think he has. The question is, is it for the better…
Or the worse?
