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“I thought I’d fill him in now.”
“Excellent plan.” He pulls his arm back, the elevator shutting him inside for the ride back to the first floor. “Welcome to the family.”
Family. How I’ve longed for more of that. “Oh hey! Which room?”
“Two,” he says right before he disappears and I’m staring at the steel door.
My heart pounds as I walk down the swanky corridor. Wood-paneled walls, fancy tiled floor, the smell like fresh air rather than disinfectant. I pause outside Finn’s room to take a deep breath before I step inside.
His bed is a million miles away from the doorway—that’s how huge the space is. There are four upholstered chairs in various positions around the room, a square table, an armoire, giant flat-screen TV, and a large window. Tears of joy press against the backs of my eyelids at the sight of him. He’s within touching distance for the first time in two weeks.
I walk closer, relieved to find him alone so I can cheer him up the way I practiced on the drive over. His eyes are closed, long lashes resting almost to the tops of his cheekbones. A blanket covers him up to his waist. His smooth, muscles-for-miles torso is bare save for a sling on his left arm.
He’s beautiful.
“Finn?” I whisper. If he’s deep asleep I’ll take a chair and wait for him to wake up.
His eyes fly open. “Chloe?”
“Hi.” I’m at the side of the bed now.
“I told Drew I didn’t want any visitors.” The hard tone of his voice stings inside and out.
Those tears of joy? They turn to grief. I’m an idiot. I take a step back. Finn has every right to turn me away.
Something must show on my face because before I can flee, Finn grabs my wrist, his mouth twisting in discomfort before he says, “Wait.”
I’m not sure if his unease stems from the way he spoke to me or the pain in his shoulder, but I stop nonetheless.
“I’m sorry,” he adds. “I’m in a crappy mood and didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?” It’s time to girl-up and face our music. It’s time he knows he’s the love song in my head I play on repeat. He’s my last boyfriend, the one I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep. Any other woman who thinks she might have even a chance with him, is going down by any means necessary. I’m not above a cat fight to keep the best thing that’s ever happened to me. “Because I wouldn’t blame you if you were pissed at me. I do still owe you a phone call. Or three.”
He tugs me closer before dropping my arm. His gaze dips to the container in my hands. “That’s true, but I see you brought me food.”
Not the response I was expecting, but I’ll gladly play this Finn’s way. At least he’s not kicking me out.
“My dad’s lasagna. We thought you might like something good to eat, but I’m guessing on this floor they serve lobster if you want it.”
“I love lasagna.”
“Are you hungry now? It’s still a little warm.”
“Hand it over.” His lighter tone is euphony to my ears. He winces as he shifts, though, accepting the food in his free hand.
“I’ll go grab you a fork.”
“There’s silverware inside the tray there.” He nods to the other side of the bed and a wood tray on wheels. Sure enough, there’s a drawer with enough utensils for a party. “Have you eaten?” he adds.
“Not yet. I uh…” I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. “I rushed over here once I heard what had happened.”
Tenderness, and dare I think forgiveness, flares in his baby blues. “Grab two forks then.”
I get situated on the bed, my hip meeting his, and to make it easier for him, I hold the lasagna so he can fork bites with minimal stress to his injury.
We eat in almost-easy silence, stealing glances at each other, until the entire thing is gone. “I’ll bring you more tomorrow,” I say. “If you want.”
There it is. The opening lines to our future, Finn. Please take them and continue our story toward a happily ever after.
