chapter
TWENTY
Liv stared out the window, watching the scenery change, her mind busy but strangely content. Two orgasms could do that to a girl. No, Finn Dorsey could do that to a girl. It was a welcome change after her sleepless night.
Finn laced his fingers with hers and squeezed. “Maybe we should change plans. I feel a fever coming on.”
She looked over at him. “Oh really?”
He nodded and gave her a serious look. “Yes. I think I need to call and tell them I’ll be in bed for a week. It’s bad. Want to play nurse?”
She pulled her hand free and pinched his arm. “Stop. There’s no going back now. We’re doing this. Plus, you’re going to be fine. I’m here to run interference. They’ll be much more likely to take jabs at me than you.”
His expression darkened. “I’m not going to let them insult you, Liv. That’s a deal breaker.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Let ’em. After the week I had, I can deal with whatever they throw at me.”
He lowered the radio. “You do seem oddly calm about all this. You remember my dad, right?”
“Vividly.”
“So is it just the sex relaxing you or something else?” He sent her a look of mock concern. “Have you been drinking? Eating mushrooms? Dropping acid?”
“Not exactly.” She took a breath and looked forward. “Worse.”
“Worse than dropping acid? I’m not even sure what that would be. Meth? Toad licking?”
She grimaced. “Ew, gross. Not as bad as licking toads.”
“Well, that’s a relief. We did just kiss.”
“I quit my job.”
“You—” The car jerked to a halt, the tires screeching as he almost missed a stop sign. “What?”
She bit her lip and glanced his way. “Yes. That look on your face. That’s basically what I’ve been feeling inside since I walked out of work last night.”
He stared at her, green eyes searching. “You’re just telling me this now? Liv…”
She shrugged. “I was going to lead with that, but then you had to go and be all hot and seductive. I just quit my job is kind of a mood killer. Plus, I’m…okay abou
t it.”
He eased onto the gas, checking what was in front of them, but then looking her way again. “Yeah? You seemed pretty freaked out last weekend at the thought of losing your job.”
She smoothed her dress and frowned. “Believe me, acceptance wasn’t my first reaction. I didn’t sleep. Pretty much was in full freak-out mode all night, strategizing ways to undo it. But then this morning, I typed up an email to apologize to my boss, to beg for my job back, for him to chalk my behavior up to temporary insanity, and…”
“And?”
She let out a breath and leaned back in the seat. “I couldn’t send it. Beyond the fact that the reasons I quit were legit and the thought of crawling back and saying they weren’t made me want to vomit, I realized that this job has been another version of a drug for me.” She turned her head toward him. “You were right.”
“I never said it was a drug.”
“No, but last Monday you said I was looking for an excuse to run, and you were right. This—you, being back in Long Acre, the photography, all of it—scares the living hell out of me,” she admitted. “At work, I don’t have to think about the what-ifs or unfulfilled plans or friends I cut out of my life. I don’t have to deal with the anxiety of any of that. I don’t have to do anything hard or scary. That also means I don’t get to do anything interesting.”
He reached for her hand again, and she let him take it. “So you really did it? Just walked out.”
She took a deep breath, one that lifted her shoulders and made her heart beat in her ears. “Yeah. I did.” She wet her lips. “I said in my letter that I wanted to live a life that scared me. My job was my safety bunker, and I just burned it down. So…now I’m feeling kind of terrified.” She turned her gaze to his and swallowed hard. “But at least I’m feeling something. You make me feel something.”