She took the chair beside him but looked at the carpet. “That sounds bad.”
It sounded like the truth. There was another truth, at least for Cal—he wasn’t finished with what happened when they kissed. “I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you.”
And here they were in a suite with a king-size bed, exclusive take-home toiletries, and room service at the door. And the problem with that was Cal had seen enough of Fin to know he liked all of her, to know he could hurt her far more easily than he’d hurt Rory, because Fin couldn’t know the truth about him.
Inconvenient time to grow a conscience.
The steak sandwiches were good; they added Coke from the bar fridge and talked. Fin talked—Cal asked questions and shared enough for her to be comfortable, more than he normally would, because the smug ex who’d pushed her into his arms was on his mind.
“I have a sister, Caroline. She’s two years younger,” Fin said. “There’s hair pulling. Mom is a teacher. Dad runs a tire fitting franchise. Caroline is like Dad. Organized, methodical, disciplined.”
“She sounds monstrously boring.”
Fin took the bait. “She is.”
“Which makes you the artistic one.”
She tilted her head and placed the back of her hand on her forehead; a mock swoon. “Can’t imagine why you’d say that.”
He dug her playfulness. “I think it came to me when you stood on that stool.”
“I was being organized, methodical, and disciplined. And you, Cal Sherwood. Tell me about your family.”
“It’s large, cumbersome, awkward, and demanding. I have two brothers and two sisters, and more extended family than should be legal. My great-grandfather started Sherwood. My dad retired five years ago, and I’ve been running the firm since.”
“Do you like running the show?”
Odd she’d use that term, because it was a show. “Most days.” Some days, he longed for a less stressful existence. “Do you like standing on barstools pitching your heart out?”
She packed the detritus of their meal up, loaded it back on the tray it’d come delivered on. Stalling. “No. Yes. It wasn’t meant to be like that. I wanted to be an actor, but I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Tell me one embarrassing thing about you and I’ll share.”
While he thought about something safe to tell her, Fin pushed the meal cart to the door and out into the corridor.
There was the time his fake mustache melted off his face. That was when the mark’s dog almost gave him away. There was the time he’d miscalculated the stupidity of his host and had to exit over rooftops ins
tead of the front door. And the time he nearly starved on a cult takedown, though that was less embarrassing than it was downright life-threatening. There were also a dozen entertaining stories he could tell from his formative years in training.
“I let my last girlfriend think we were going to be forever.” Shit, what was wrong with him? Honesty, outside of the extended family, made his teeth hurt. Yes, he’d wanted to say something revealing to encourage Fin to do the same, but he was self-sabotaging with this woman and for what reason?
She stopped in the middle of her journey back to him. “Now you’re sorry you kissed me. Why did you let her think that?”
“I’m not a good man.”
She took the seat again, but her posture was kinked away from him.
“I love her, and we worked well together, but I wasn’t in love with her.” He put his hand over his cheek where Rory’s slap had landed. Did that sound as ridiculous as he felt saying it? Judging by the look on Fin’s face, absolutely, yes. “Difficult to explain.” Not sure why he was even attempting to. He hadn’t gotten any sympathy inside the family; what made him think it might be different with Fin?
“I wish you could, because that’s what my ex said to me.” She coughed, sat straighter, and dropped her voice low. “You’re lovely, Finley. But I don’t love you enough to build a future with you.” She collapsed back into the seat. “He wants to be friends,” she said in her regular voice, smothering the sentence in contempt. “The fiancée is very shiny.” She waved her hands around. “Hair, skin, eyes, lips, and she’s as filthy rich and privileged as he is.”
“And you want him to fall through a crack in the earth.”
“Or at least be jealous when I kiss another man.” She sagged like her bones had called it quits. “I’m pathetic.”