“Just promise me, Finn,”the girl insists.
That’s when it all clicks.
Trembling, I loosen my grasp on the blanket.
Did she just say…
Finn?
“Nope, not doing this. Get on your knees, or get the fuck out,” Mystery Guy snaps, his tone void of emotion.
Yep, that’s Finn Richards, all right.
Good news: Mystery Guy is not a serial killer.
Bad news: he’s a conceited asshole.
“You want me to leave?” The girl sounds indignant.
“I want you to choose, Randall.”
My stomach drops.
Randall?
As in… cheerleader cliché Brielle Randall?
I don’t even get the chance to let it sink in before I hear what sounds like a body getting shoved against the wall.
“So, what’s it going to be, princess? Staying…” Silence lingers in the air, the tension palpable. “…or leaving?”
“I just… I feel so awful,” Brielle bleats. “Do you think he’d ever forgiv—”
I’m positive he just smacked his hand to her mouth when he grits out an annoyed “Keep it the fuck down. My dad hired some cow to take care of the house for the summer. She’s probably passed out somewhere.”
I’ll be damned.
He knows.
He knew I was starting the job today, and he still brought his booty call home in the middle of the night.
See? Conceited asshole.
“And I should care why?” Brie scoffs.
“Because I don’t need her ratting me out when my dad’s already pissed about basketball camp, that’s fucking why. Now choose.” Finn circles back to the point. “In or out?”
“I…” Brie falters.
“Maybe this will help.”
The sound of a zipper is the only clue I need.
“Fuuck.”A raw moan rips from Brielle’s throat, muffled by Finn’s palm, and I cringe deep in my bones.
“You hear that, cheat?” Finn taunts, his voice low and gravelly. “Your pussy’s fucking begging you to stay.”
My throat closes up at her arousal.