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Crumbling my napkin, I toss it in the empty burger box. “Sometimes. Yes, I loved it. Maybe one day I’ll look into it. So much has happened these past few weeks. I need to get my head around one thing at a time.” I’d called Tamara’s sister, the therapist, and it’s something we’ve discussed. I need to focus on getting back on my feet, not trying to bombard myself with too much at once. I’ve only had one session with her, and the tools she has given me have already helped.
“Well, if you ever need any help with getting started again, let me know.”
In just a few days, we have come so far. Finn’s gone from hating me to wanting to help me. I can’t ask for a better outcome. Well, I could. We could be romantically involved again, but I’ll take whatever I can get. Having his friendship back means the world to me.
After dinner, Finn takes me home and parks outside of my apartment. Once again, we sit in the dark interior. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?” I ask.
His head drops back on the seat’s headrest. It’s like I’ve asked him the most difficult question in the world. From the way his face is screwed up with indecision, I’d say he’s struggling with an answer. I hold my breath in anticipation. Will he say yes?
Finally, he says, “I should go.” Finn clears his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
I let out a disappointed exhale. I keep hoping for something that will never happen. The smile on my face stiffens. “Okay. Thanks for dinner and the ride. See you tomorrow.” I fumble with the doorhandle and rush from the car and into the apartment.
God, what was I thinking? He’s told me we can only be friends. Why won’t I listen? I need to stop living in fantasy-land and believe him. But when he kissed me—even for a silly kiss cam—I felt it down to my toes. The way he licked my fingers and looked at me with his smoldering gaze, my stomach summersaulted. Friends don’t do stuff like that, do they? Kicking off my shoes, I sit on the edge of the bed. I’m reading too much into it. Confusing our past with our present.
Walking into the bathroom, I go through my night-time routine. Alyssa is working, so I won’t see her until the morning. So when I finish taking a shower, I walk into the kitchenette wearing only a towel.
At the knock on the door, I pause, holding the glass of water I was taking to my room. Maybe Alyssa forgot her key? I look at the clock on the wall. No, she’s not due home for another two hours. Someone knocks again.
I place the glass on the counter, tighten the towel around me, and pad to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” a deep voice answers. One I’d recognize anywhere.
I open the door. My heart trips.
Finn.
Chapter Twenty-Five
FINN
AfterwatchingHarperwalkinto the building, I sit in my car staring at the doorway, desperately wanting to follow her. When I’m with her, past hurt pales compared to the longing I have for her. I can’t keep holding on to what happened. It was eating away at me. Little by little it was sucking the joy from everything. Slowly killing me.
During the last few days, Harper has made me feel alive again. This woman who yells at ice hockey games and eats McDonald’s like it’s the best meal she’s ever had, consumes my body and soul. My heart, which was once cold and dead in my chest, has been zapped back to life. I want to take what I want, and fuck all the reasons that have held me back.
I want Harper.
Getting out of the car, I walk to her door. My hand hesitates for a second before I knock. Was her invitation for coffee really just that, or was she asking for more? After I insisted we could only be friends, maybe I read her wrong? No. She looked disappointed when I declined.
Fuck! When have I ever been so nervous about knocking on a woman’s door? It’s because it’s Harper’s door. If I do this, there’s no turning back. There’s no ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’. This isn’t a quick fuck to pass the time. Or a woman to bury myself in to help me forget about Harper. ThisisHarper. She isn’t just any woman.
I knock, my heart hammering. When she opens the door, the air in my lungs gets sucked from my body. She’s standing in the doorway with a pale blue towel wrapped around her. Damp hair sits on top of her head in a messy bun. I almost swallow my tongue. She’s fucking the sexiest woman I have ever seen. Traveling my gaze over her, I drink her in. Too caught up in her beauty to move or say anything.
“Finn. Is everything okay?” Harper asks as she tightens the towel across her chest.
Before I step inside, I say, “I want to kiss you. Will you let me?”
Her eyes widen with surprise. “You want to kiss me?”
I nod. “More than I fucking need to breathe.”
A bright smile lights up her face, but she hasn’t answered my question.
“I’m dying here. Will you let me kiss you?” My body is wound up so tight, I can barely stand here a moment longer.
She answers by throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me to her. Our lips collide. I wrap my arms around her waist and pick her up. I take two steps into the apartment, she hooks her legs over my hips, and I kick the door closed, all without breaking our connection. We kiss until I can barely breathe. What a way to die!
I break away, sucking in deep breaths, to ask, “Where’s your bedroom?”
