One rule—and he bent it for me. Maybe I should be sorry. I don’t want him to regret anything when it comes to us. But being simultaneously coveted and owned is addicting, a high I’ve never felt, one I couldn’t fight in the moment. And we haven’t even been skin to skin yet.
“Technically, we didn’t break it,” I say breathlessly.
He releases my hips. “I think the line is too thin to say.”
I turn around. Concern is etched into his features. I want to erase all his doubts, comfort him. “It’s over with him. Completely. Trust me.”
My phone rings from the kitchen. Finn and I look at each other. “It’s him,” I say.
“I’m going to clean myself up.” Finn walks away but pauses in the doorway. “Whatever happens, don’t go to his place. At least not tonight. I can’t stand the thought of it.”
He leaves the studio. With his final plea, I understand his fears run deeper than just the injustice of cheating on Rich.
If Finn is worried about what’ll happen if I don’t end things at all, maybe he already thinks of me as his.
12
I make it to Finn’s kitchen right before Rich’s call goes to voicemail. “Hey,” I answer.
“Sorry I missed you earlier,” he says. “I was on the other line, and I didn’t recognize the number.”
“With who?” I ask. “It’s the middle of the night.”
His silence answers my question.
I scoff. “You couldn’t even wait until tomorrow to call my dad? Did you give him every last detail of our fight, or just the gist?”
“I was worried. You took off.”
“I’m not a child, even if you guys treat me like one.”
“Being concerned about your wellbeing is not belittling you. Where are you?”
My legs are weak from the intensity of the orgasm I had not five minutes ago, so I turn to rest my back against the kitchen counter. Finn is leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. This is a private conversation, and Finn has no business listening, but the fact that he’s doing it anyway turns me on a little. As if he’s too impatient to do anything other than hear me end it. “I’m at my apartment.”
“No you’re not. I called your doorman when you didn’t answer your cell, before I got your message. Whose number was that?”
“We need to talk.”
“I know, but I have to be up in five hours,” he says. “Can you at least tell me where you are so I know you’re okay?”
“What I meant was I need to talk. You can listen.”
He starts to remind me of an important meeting in the morning he can’t afford to doze off in. I don’t want to hurt Rich; I’d rather let him down gently. But he can’t even give me a minute to break up with him, so I rip off the Band-Aid. “We’re over, Rich.”
He pauses. “You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier about you not coming over anymore. I was mad.”
“It’s not about that.”
“We fought, Halston. I know we rarely do it, but it’s normal. It’s probably even good for us. Couples fight.”
I shake my head, looking outside to avoid Finn’s gaze. “The fight was nothing. It just opened my eyes.”
“To?”
“We aren’t right for each other. I don’t think we need to get into the nitty-gritty details, because you know it’s true.”
It’s so silent, I can almost hear the flakes of snow brushing against the window. “All right, Halston. You want to split? Sure. Let’s do that.”
I’d like to thank him and hang up, but I get the feeling the conversation isn’t over.
“I mean,” he continues wryly, “calling me in the middle of the night to end a two-year relationship is completely rational. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve stopped seeing your doctor and taken your treatment into your own hands. The two aren’t related at all.”
I feel Finn’s eyes on me. The apartment is deadly quiet. I turn my face and whisper, “It’s not about that.”
“No?” he asks. “And I’m a Russian spy. Obviously, messing with your dosage is your reason for storming off and then calling me like this. We’ve been good up until a few days ago.”
“No we haven’t,” I say more heatedly. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, I just didn’t know it.”
Shit. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I’m not even sure if I mean it. If I backtrack, though, what will Finn think?
“Is that true?” Rich asks.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I haven’t really thought of leaving Rich in the active sense. Once in a while, I wonder if there’s more out there for me or if it matters that something between us has always felt off. He’s the first man to love me, though. Finn is the first to pursue me.
“If you’re not sure, why the hurry?” he asks. “Go home. Sleep. We can talk at work tomorrow. I’ll even cancel my second meeting.”
Finn watches me. With him, there are no guarantees. Is my urge to take that risk a red flag? Or an inner push toward something better? If I want Finn, there can’t be any in between or uncertainty; he’s made that clear. Maybe he’s the wrong choice. Maybe he’ll hurt me. At least I’ll feel something, though, and that’s more than I can say for Rich. “There’s nothing to talk about aside from logistics,” I tell Rich. “I love you as a friend, but as a partner—”
“We can pick this up tomorrow,” he repeats.
“There is no tomorrow.”
“Yes there is. At the office. Where you and I will both be. And your dad, who won’t be on board with this.”
“I’ll handle my dad,” I say, even though I’d rather elope with Finn than stay and deal with my dad’s disappointment. “Please box up my things and—”
“Have you been drinking?” he asks.
My face warms. I’m not sure if Finn can hear. “No. Have the boxes sent to my apartment. Charge it to Dad’s delivery service.”
“Is it something else?” he presses. “Something worse to cope with everything?”
“Everything?”
“I know this time of year is hard for you.”
Terrified he’ll bring up my mother and make this night even more uncomfortable, I shake my head. “I have to go. Please just tell me you get that we’re breaking up.”
“Fine,” he says. “Take the time you need. I hope I’ll still be here when you realize your mistake.”
Mistake. I have no doubt he intentionally chose that word to drill home the point that without my meds, I can’t make rational decisions. “Goodn—”
He hangs up. I check the screen. Three minutes, eleven seconds. That’s how long it took to extricate myself from Rich. Appropriate, I guess, considering this relationship often felt half-assed. Two years lost, just like that. It’s angering in a way. Years of my youth have been spent bending to other people’s wills. The worst part is, it’s my own fault. It was easier to accept what I had than convince myself I was worth more.
“Hey,” Finn says from above me. I didn’t even hear him approach.
I look up and realize my vision is blurred. “Hey.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, and a few tears fall onto my cheeks. “I’m not crying over him.”
He wipes under my eye with his thumb. “It’s okay if you are. You’re allowed.”
“I just feel like I’m waking up from a long sleep. Not even a restful one.” I could be referring to the break up or my
meds. Both, I guess. “I’ve wasted so much time.”
“We’ll make up for it,” he murmurs.
“Was that enough?” I ask. “Are you satisfied?”
He pulls me against his chest, tightening his arms around me. “Don’t worry about me right now.”
“But—”
“Will you let me hold you?”
I’m stiff as a board with my hands at my sides. I force myself to relax against his body, hug his middle, and rest my chin on his chest. “Better?” I whisper.
“Yeah.” He searches my eyes a few silent seconds before bending his head. My mouth opens for his like we’ve done this a million times, but I’ve never been struck by lightning, and that’s how his kiss feels—electric, exceptional, and bigger than us. His lips are as soft and full as they look, but more firm, more certain, than I’m used to. They’re made to kiss away my tears while inciting a fire in me. I could fall in love this second or fuck him until one of us goes blind.
He cradles my face in his hands.
Fall in love.
Then slides them down my back to grip my ass.
Fuck him blind.
“I want you as mine,” he growls.
“I want to be yours.”
He hooks a finger into the waistband of my skirt. “Say that again.”
We breathe into each other’s mouths. It’s too soon to tell him I think I already am his. So I untie his sweatpants instead. “Let me show you how badly I want it.”
He stills my hands. “It’s too soon. You’re vulnerable.”
I haven’t thought of much else in a week. Just him. Finn Finn Finn. Seeing him. Fucking him. Posing for him. I’ve already forgotten about Rich, and right now, I can’t even remember a life outside this apartment. “I’m ready,” I say.
“You’re not. It’s been a rough day.”
“That’s why I need this.” I move even closer. He releases my hands, and I slide them up his chest, around his neck. “Please,” I murmur, rising onto the balls of my feet to nuzzle his neck. I can smell him now, woodsy hints mixed with sweat and brine. He only came in his pants a few minutes ago, and I can almost convince myself I can smell that too. “I have to feel good.” I beg for a kiss and he gives me one. “I haven’t felt good in so long.”