She leaned forward, bracing herself on one hand, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She looked up, meeting his gaze, and realized how close she still was. Close enough to see the flecks of gray in his green eyes, close enough to kiss him. She wet her lips. “Being you. I’ve missed that guy.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his attention flicking to her mouth before sliding upward again. Her heart picked up speed, and his hand closed around her upper arm. “Liv…”
“I…” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips, because the way he was looking at her made her forget her words. There was want in those green depths—lust—but there was something else. Something that made her breath stall. Need mixed with something more dangerous. A wildness.
A curl of heat went up her spine, twining with unease. So much of her wanted to give in to it, to see what exactly was simmering between them. Just grab him and say to hell with it all and make the sheets even sweatier than they already were. But as much as he was drawing her in with that look, he was also warning her off. She didn’t know how she got that sense, but it was there, loud and clear. Push me away. Run. He wanted her to stop this.
He’d told her outside what he had to offer—nothing but a one-night stand. And though right now that sounded all kinds of enticing, she wasn’t going to go there. He didn’t want this. Plus, even sober, it would be too close to how she’d handled her anxiety in college. She didn’t need to chase away her nightmare with a hookup she’d regret in the morning. She wasn’t that girl anymore.
“Finn.” The word was strained.
“Yes?”
She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “We should get my stuff moved. It’s late.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then his grip on her arm softened. His breath tickled her hair. “Right. Of course.”
He released her, and she climbed off the bed with shaky limbs. She wouldn’t let herself look at him. She needed a task—something, anything, to get her mind off the man sitting on her bed. She packed in record time, and Finn retrieved his gun from the drawer, tucking it in the pocket of the robe. No words were exchanged. When she was done gathering her things, he helped her roll her bag down the hallway to his room.
He let her inside and quickly rounded up his own stuff. He moved with quiet efficiency, awkwardness creeping into the silence between them and spreading into every corner of the room.
She leaned against the dresser, watching him, hating the growing divide. “Hey, Finn.”
He looked up, his hands full of computer wires.
“I know the kiss was a mistake, and things have gotten a little weird and a lot personal tonight. But this—you and I having some time to talk—was good. I think that’s what I missed the most when everything happened. Losing you as a friend.”
His stance relaxed. “Yeah?”
She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Yeah. We were good at the kissing, but we were better at the talking. I never had to fake stuff with you.”
His eyebrow arched.
She laughed. “That’s not what I mean, Mr. Mind-in-the-Gutter. I mean that things were easy between us. That’s hard to find with people. I’m realizing that now. I don’t…have that.”
He tucked the computer cords in his bag and straightened, his watchful gaze making her fidgety.
“And that’s not your problem, obviously.” She was rambling now and couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But I opened that time capsule tonight and got to see a big, long list of things I wanted to accomplish in life and haven’t. I was supposed to do this. I was supposed to do that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to name my freaking autobiography Supposed To, by Olivia Arias.”
He frowned. “Liv.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. It is what it is. But all I’m saying is that I don’t want another regret added to the list. So I just thought you should know that you meant—mean—something to me. And maybe you could give a flying flip about me. I have no clue what your life looks like now, but I would rather not leave Long Acre later today and go back to being strangers. Because people you don’t have to fake it for are hard to find. So… Yeah, that’s all I wanted to say. I’d like us to stay in touch.”
His mouth twitched. “That’s all you had to say?”
“Hey, I’m a photographer, not an editor.”
“I thought you were a web designer.”
Her lips parted, closed.
He smiled. “Maybe you’re already making more changes than you think.”
She let out a breath. “Maybe I’m just tired.”