Page 74 of Always Him

I feellike a sad little ghost haunting my apartment ever since Finn left. He’s been gone for ages.

I check my phone. It’s been thirty-seven minutes, but really, what can Archer and Finn possibly be talking about for that long? Philosophy? How nice Archer’s hair is? Sex positions?

I stuff my phone in my pocket, throw on a sweatshirt, and head outside. On the street is the ride I called for and I hop inside, letting the gruff, bearded man in the driver’s seat take me across town to the little nursery where my dad works.

I need the distraction. I need to occupy my time until he comes back home.

I should probably text Finn and let him know where I am, but I don’t want to bother him.

On his coffee date.

Gah!

I want to stop by and grab a drink because I’m dragging and need caffeine but I’m nervous. What if I see something I don’t want to see? Like them holding hands or whispering to each other.

I’m caught between anxiety and morbid fascination, my knee bouncing up and down as I debate whether or not I should stop by. I shouldn’t. I absolutely shouldnot.

I end up stopping by the coffee shop.

My order has already been placed and all I need to do is walk inside and grab it. And maybe take a little peek as I stroll by. Casually. Like no big deal, Finn, keep having fun on your coffee date. That’s not a date.

But then I see Finn—he’s sitting on a couch right next to Archer, their heads lowered as they talk, Archer’s hand holding Finn’s. I feel my stomach churn and my heart rate skyrocket.

“Huge mistake,” I mutter as I grab my coffee and try to sneak out lightning fast, but Finn’s eyes catch on me. Something dark flashes in his expression and I shiver as his hand slips from Archer’s.

He moves to stand but I scurry outside, not wanting to talk to him, and then I’m back inside my ride before he can catch me.

God, I’m an idiot. I just couldn’t help myself. I just had to golook. I always do this shit. I can’t peel my eyes away and then I have major regrets afterward.

I sip on my drink, feeling nauseous and confused. Because seriously, what did I walk in on? He says they’re friends, but why were they holding hands? They were holding hands, right?

Shit.

By the time I make it to the nursery, I’m wrung out.

“Hey, bud!” my dad says with a smile, gardening gloves on his hands. His hair is disheveled and one of his cheeks is smeared with dirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see if you needed any help.” I glance around, taking in the buckets of plants lining the muddy floor. “Vincent didn’t come?”

“Mr. Anderson banned him. He ate too many plants last time. He’s with Logan and Theo.”

I snort and then gesture to the pallet he’s offloading.

“Can I help?”

“Sure!” he says with a wide smile. “You know Mr. Anderson doesn’t mind.”

I wave to the older man behind the register and he waves back, and then my dad and I get to work.

By the time Finn strides into the nursery, looking stormy and irritated, I’m covered in a sheen of sweat and soil.

“Oh! Hey, Finn,” I say, managing a smile. It’s fake. It’s the fakest.

His eyes narrow on it. “Why are you smiling like that?”

I roll my eyes and run a gloved hand across my sweaty forehead, most likely smearing more dirt on myself. I ditched my sweatshirt ages ago, once the sun came out. It’s hotter than I expected today.

“Smiling like what?” Dumb. I play dumb.

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