Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
After the day from hell, I just wanted to feel good. To turn off my brain and surrender to my body. I wanted the release only Finn could give me, to fall into the safety and freedom of giving my body to Finn.
Unfortunately, for the first time, Finn was not at my cottage for sex. At least, not right away. He closed and locked the door, stopping just inside, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I shot back automatically. It was a waste of breath since we both knew that was a lie.
“Don’t fucking give me that bullshit. You’ve been on edge all day. What the fuck is wrong? What happened? Where were you today? Did you have a doctor’s appointment? Are you sick?” His eyes flew wide in alarm, as if that thought had just occurred to him.
Shit. Shit. I didn’t want to talk, but he looked genuinely worried.
“Lydia came to Asheville,” I admitted, the words spilling out before I could think of something else to say. “She texted, and I went to go see her. It was unpleasant. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He studied my face. “What does she want?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Finn.” My voice squeaked with an edge of hysteria. How could I hold it together for an entire lunch with Lydia, but two minutes into a conversation with Finn and I was already unraveling?
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I repeated before he could protest. “I just— You didn’t come over here to talk, did you?”
He dropped his crossed arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t come over here to not talk.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I said, hearing the petulance in my voice. I hated this conversation.
“It means I don’t have a problem with talking. You’re one of the few people I like talking to. So tell me what’s going on, we can talk about it, and then we’ll go have sex.”
His calm, patient reasonableness suddenly felt very unreasonable. I didn’t want to talk. Not yet. The whole fucking thing with Lydia had me spun. My head pounded. I felt like I’d been through a literal wringer, and I didn’t want to talk about any of it. I just wanted to have sex and go to sleep.
“Why do we have to talk?” I demanded. “I don’t want to talk to you.” I gestured between us, my hand shaking as I flung it toward him and back at me. “This whole thing we have is about sex, so why aren’t we having sex? Since when do you want to talk? This isn’t a relationship. It’s sex.”
Something hardened in his eyes, and he straightened. “That’s all this is to you? Just fucking? I’m your booty call, and that’s it?” The way he said it made me feel like a royal bitch. I’d had a shit day, but none of it was Finn’s fault.
“You don’t have to make it sound ugly,” I said, rubbing the heel of my palm against my temple. “I just— We know this isn’t a relationship. You don’t have to hear about my day.”
“I didn’t think hearing about your day was such a chore,” he said in that even tone I recognized from myself when I was holding my temper in line.
“Finn—” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to talk about Lydia. I didn’t want to talk about our relationship, or whatever this was. I wanted to strip off all my clothes, tear off his, and lose myself in his body. And then I wanted to fall asleep with the heavy thump of his heartbeat under my ear. That’s what I wanted.
I crossed my arms over my chest until I was hugging myself. My head thumping with spikes of pain, I watched Finn warily, his stiff shoulders and closed expression telling me I’d hurt him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Finn hadn’t done anything wrong, and I’d hurt him anyway. Fuck.
I dropped my arms to my sides. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Finn. I’m being an asshole.” I wrapped my arms around myself again. “Lydia was worse than awful, and there was an accident on 26 on the way home, and my head is throbbing so badly I think it wants to pop off my neck. I don’t want to talk about any of this right now. If I do, I’m going to start bawling, and I won’t be able to stop.”
Finn’s face paled. “Okay,” he said slowly, coming a little closer. “I get it. We can talk later, after you’ve had a good night's sleep and a good meal. You barely touched dinner.”
“My stomach hurts.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I almost lost it. It had been years since I’d come this close to crying so many times in one day. The compassion in Finn’s eyes almost undid me.