Page 45 of Always Him

“Please, don’t be upset with me. I can’t bear it,” he grunts, and I turn my face up and our lips brush.

“I’m hurt. You hurt me, Finn.”

He groans and presses his lips against mine, not opening his mouth, just resting it on mine.

We stand like that, our clothes growing damp from the mist until we finally pull apart, my cheeks wet, his eyes bloodshot.

“Forgive me,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing the tears away and I sniffle.

“I’ll consider it,” I say and he rolls his eyes slightly.

“You already have.”

I nod. “Of course, Finn. Always. Just…fuck, don’t…please don’t hide things from me. I want to support you, you’re my best fucking friend, but I can’t do that if I don’t know these things. Don’t hide who you are. Not from me.”

He glances at me and then tilts his chin down and mutters, “Okay.”

My heart stutters in my chest and I feel the fractures slowly start to mend. I peek up at him.

“Do you like that guy you gave your number to?” I ask, suddenly so very invested.

He stiffens and slowly lets me go.

“He seems fun.”

I nod, my chest constricting. Because I’m fun, right? I’m the funnest.

“He’s cute too,” I say, trying to get him to admit…admit something. Because I have to know. Maybe that guy is his type. Do pan people have a type?

God, I don’t know. I need to research this stuff.

“He is.”

I roll my lips between my teeth and swipe at my cheeks.

“Are you two going to go out?”

Finn’s gaze shutters and he shrugs. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

I don’t want him to see. I don’t want him to have to split his time between me and someone else. I thought we had January to ourselves, but it seems that maybe that won’t be the case. Maybe I will only see him a few hours each week, his time so consumed by another.

Maybe I should find someone to distract myself with too.

The thought turns my stomach. Can’t think about this right now. Under the rug it goes. I need a bigger rug.

I wobble a little on my feet and Finn reaches out to steady me.

“You okay?”

I manage a small nod, even though it’s a lie. I am a liar now. Because I don’t know what this feeling is inside of me. It’s new and fresh and confusing.

“We should go,” I say, moving back toward Finn’s car. “They’re all waiting for us.”

Finn eyes me warily but we still drive to my parents’ place in heavy silence—Finn’s eyes on the road and mine on him, seeing him through a different lens for the first time in years.

eleven

SIX YEARS AGO

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