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The warmth slowly starts to defrost my nose as I tuck myself into his side, breathing him in.
“Want to drink it here or head over right away?” he asks as we move forward in line.
“Here, that way I can get a second one to go.”
“Go grab our seat,” he says and I leave his side reluctantly to nab our oversized chair before someone else does.
When I’m settled in it, I move my gaze back to Finn who is chatting with the cashier, a very cute guy who is smiling a little too wide. He has very straight, white teeth, and amazing hair.
I sit up a little taller in my seat, feeling my heart pang in my chest.
Finn leans his head back and laughs loudly and my eyebrows meet in confusion. Finn never laughs like that with me. Usually he’s grumbling, and occasionally chuckles. He never full-on belly laughs.
The guy behind the counter waves his hand dramatically and Finn runs a hand across his jaw, grinning.
What the fuck?
His hand was onmydick this morning. He had his tongue in my mouth last night.
And now there’s this barista dude, looking so pretty. I glance down at my missing leg and something pinches my chest and I rub at it. My eyes snap back to Finn and I watch as he grabs a pen and scrawls something on the side of a cup, handing it to the man.
Is he…is he giving this guy his number? Does Finn like dudes? Since when is that a thing?
What the hell is happening?
My mind is reeling when Finn finally grabs our drinks and settles down next to me, his body wedging against mine, all thick and warm and strong.
“What was that?” I blurt, taking my drink from him and gulping a big sip. I need the comfort of the drink because my worldview is shifting, tilting, and I’m feeling things. Uncomfortable things.
“Huh?” Finn asks, eyeing me innocently over his drink.
“Don’t play games with me, Finn,” I say, meeting his dark eyes. “Did you give that guy your number?”
He glances away from me and takes another sip of his drink.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“We were friends in high school….”
My eyebrows fly up. I don’t remember this guy. I would have remembered this guy.
“And because he asked for it.”
My mouth just opens and stays that way. I cannot even think.
“Are you…Finn, are you gay?” I ask softly, feeling my eyes sting. Because since when does he not tell me this shit? Is this the secret he was talking about earlier? Has he been secretly into men this whole time?
“Does it matter?” he asks, and my eyes widen.
“Of course it fucking matters, Finn. Especially if it’s a part of you. Part of your identity,” I hiss.
He mulls that over and then tilts his chin down, staring into his cup. “I’m pan.”
“You’re pan?”
“Yeah.”
