“Oh,” is the only thing he says.
I can feel his eyes boring a hole through my skull but pay his insistent stares no mind. He wants me to look at him, maybe just so that I can confirm Aveena’s news, but I deny him the privilege of my attention.
I always told myself that if I ever saw him again, I’d silent treatment his ass, and I might’ve been too shocked to stick to my rules when I first saw him in the guest room, but from now on, I’m going to treat him like a ghost. Finn Richards is dead to me.
Dead.
And there’s no way in hell I’m sharing a bed with him.
“All right then. I’ll give Chance a call.” I pluck my phone out of my pocket. I enter my passcode and begin to scroll through my contacts for Chance’s number. Seconds before I can press the Call button, Finn speaks.
“No,” he says in a calm voice.
I break my own rule and cast a glance in his direction. Sure enough, his eyes immediately capture mine. It feels like he’s staring through my soul for a second there, and I tear my gaze away but not before catching a glimmer of pain in his.
He clears his throat. “She can have the bed. I’ll go.”
With that said, he unzips the duffel bag on the ground—probably his luggage—and starts digging around in it. He grabs a T-shirt, slips it over his head, and picks up his shoes by the bed. As soon as he’s put them on, he throws the strap of his bag over his shoulder and walks over the chunks of glass on the floor.
“Where are you going to go?” Xavier asks.
“I’ll figure it out.” Finn shrugs, but it doesn’t seem to satisfy Xavier’s curiosity. We follow Finn out of the guest room and into the living room.
“If you don’t have anywhere to sleep, we can just throw a bunch of blankets on the floor or some shit. You don’t have to leave,” Xavier suggests.
Finn is halfway to the front door when he stops and glances at me over his shoulder. Our eyes lock for a fleeting moment, but the feeling it provokes in my stomach lingers longer than I would’ve liked. One look at my face and he seems to make up his mind.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Sure, I want him to leave, but am I being that obvious? I get the sense that he needed to see how I was feeling about this before making a decision. Xavier calls his best friend’s name, obviously feeling guilty about kicking him to the curb.
Only, Finn is already gone.
* * *
I didn’t sleep a wink after Finn left. I just kept tossing and turning all night, wishing I could lose my sense of smell and relieve myself of the flashbacks haunting my thoughts. The guest room’s bed smelled like him. The pillows, the blanket, even the goddamn sheets.
Finn might have new tattoos and a newfound obsession for the gym, but to my misery, he still wears the same cologne. It would be one thing if it smelled like ass, but it’s the kind of cologne that makes your knees buckle, and I’d rather die than admit I spent most of the night sniffing my ex’s pillow.
The clock reads 7:50 a.m. by the time I tiptoe out of the apartment to go to work. I must’ve debated on leaving my suitcase here for fifteen minutes. I didn’t want to assume anything since Aveena hasn’t gotten around to asking Xavier if I could move in with them for the summer, but then I figured I’d be coming back later anyway.
I promised Vee that I’d be there while she takes a pregnancy test, but I’m walking a few dogs this morning, and I could hardly see myself lugging my suitcase around. I decided to leave my things in the guest room until I come back this afternoon.
I’ve barely taken two steps out of the apartment complex before I notice the black car parked across the street.
I know that car.
I’ve had sex on top of that car.
It’s Finn’s.
Puddles are scattered all over the road, the pavement darkened by the rain, and I gather that there was a thunderstorm last night. Finn’s car windows are tinted, making it impossible to see anything from where I am, and I feel compelled to move closer. I check for incoming cars and cross the street in quick strides.
Why is his car still here? I thought he said he was going to figure something out, but it doesn’t look like he went anywhere. I feel like a creep when I round the car and stop near the driver’s side. I spot Finn sleeping in the driver’s seat with his arms crossed and a baseball cap covering his face, probably to block out the sun.
No blanket or pillow.
His seat is inclined, but there’s no way this setup is comfortable.