damn it. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Rosie belonged to him. He had to tell her. But not now. Now it was just their breath, their bodies, everything twined together.
He didn’t know what he would do if she didn’t feel the same.
Don’t think about it.
He knew he didn’t how to do this. But he had to. Had to be with her. He would figure it out.
“Finn,” she said quietly, “hold me tighter.”
How could he do anything else when it was what he wanted to do forever? Holding Rosie. Pure heaven. The rest could wait.
***
When she woke the sky was a pale sheen of mist outside the windows. Where was she? Oh yes, Mick’s place, where Finn was staying.
Finn.
He was warm beside her, one big, tattooed arm flung over her stomach. She wanted to curl into him with every fiber of her being. Almost….except for the one small part of her that was filled with fear.
If she gave herself to him in the way she yearned to so much it made her stomach ache…what then? It was the unknown that made her afraid. Or maybe it was what she knew about herself.
She looked at his sleeping form, at the strong planes of his face, the plush softness of his sleeping mouth. The delicacy of his eyelids—how had she never noticed before?—in the misty light of dawn. It made her heart ache.
She’d spent so much of her life closed off to any real connection, other than her family—Henry Lee and Christie—and her friends. And Henry Lee’s cancer had really scared the piss out of her. Loving someone was such a tenuous thing, when it could so easily be taken away. Did she dare open herself to that possibility?
Her heart was a thudding beat against her ribs. She was panicking, she knew. But she couldn’t stop it.
He was too….everything. Gorgeous and commanding and sometimes so honest it tore at her. She couldn’t have him. Couldn’t have what the silly, girlish part of her hoped for too damn desperately. Not with him. And not her .
She wanted to cry again. She bit back the tears.
You have only known him for two weeks.
You know him in a way you’ve never known anyone. On a soul level.
So stupid. You are so stupid.
She slipped out from under his arm and got out of the big bed, the air cold on her naked skin. She found her clothes on the floor, got dressed while watching him sleep. But it was too hard and she had to turn away. She found her shoes and crept through the apartment, then stopped at the front door, her hand on the old wood.
Can’t do this.
She swallowed down a sob as she slipped through the door and shut it behind her.
***
He’d called and texted her a dozen times in the last few days. She wouldn’t answer him. She couldn’t. She knew if she did she would crumble. Beg to be with him.
He’d begged her. To talk to him. To think things through. He hadn’t said he wanted to be with her, but she thought she understood the subtext of all his messages.
She could not allow it. It would only end in disaster. Wouldn’t it?
Etta had called, then called again when Rosie hadn’t answered her. When she left a late-night message on the Midnight Ink voicemail asking Sassy to cancel all her appointments for the next few days, Sassy had called and demanded to know what was going on. She hadn’t returned her calls, either.
It was easier to stay wrapped up in her blankets on the big bed in her living room, watching old movies, pretending not to cry. But she’d gone through an entire box of tissues.
She didn’t want to be that girl—she never had been. And it only went to prove how awful things could get if she risked allowing herself to tell Finn how she felt. If she even risked telling herself how she felt.
Did she even fucking know?
She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. Fucking awful.
There was a loud knock at her door and she hit the mute button on the remote, silencing the black and white images on the television screen.
Could it be him?
Please no.
“God damn it, Rosie. Open this
Rosie belonged to him. He had to tell her. But not now. Now it was just their breath, their bodies, everything twined together.
He didn’t know what he would do if she didn’t feel the same.
Don’t think about it.
He knew he didn’t how to do this. But he had to. Had to be with her. He would figure it out.
“Finn,” she said quietly, “hold me tighter.”
How could he do anything else when it was what he wanted to do forever? Holding Rosie. Pure heaven. The rest could wait.
***
When she woke the sky was a pale sheen of mist outside the windows. Where was she? Oh yes, Mick’s place, where Finn was staying.
Finn.
He was warm beside her, one big, tattooed arm flung over her stomach. She wanted to curl into him with every fiber of her being. Almost….except for the one small part of her that was filled with fear.
If she gave herself to him in the way she yearned to so much it made her stomach ache…what then? It was the unknown that made her afraid. Or maybe it was what she knew about herself.
She looked at his sleeping form, at the strong planes of his face, the plush softness of his sleeping mouth. The delicacy of his eyelids—how had she never noticed before?—in the misty light of dawn. It made her heart ache.
She’d spent so much of her life closed off to any real connection, other than her family—Henry Lee and Christie—and her friends. And Henry Lee’s cancer had really scared the piss out of her. Loving someone was such a tenuous thing, when it could so easily be taken away. Did she dare open herself to that possibility?
Her heart was a thudding beat against her ribs. She was panicking, she knew. But she couldn’t stop it.
He was too….everything. Gorgeous and commanding and sometimes so honest it tore at her. She couldn’t have him. Couldn’t have what the silly, girlish part of her hoped for too damn desperately. Not with him. And not her .
She wanted to cry again. She bit back the tears.
You have only known him for two weeks.
You know him in a way you’ve never known anyone. On a soul level.
So stupid. You are so stupid.
She slipped out from under his arm and got out of the big bed, the air cold on her naked skin. She found her clothes on the floor, got dressed while watching him sleep. But it was too hard and she had to turn away. She found her shoes and crept through the apartment, then stopped at the front door, her hand on the old wood.
Can’t do this.
She swallowed down a sob as she slipped through the door and shut it behind her.
***
He’d called and texted her a dozen times in the last few days. She wouldn’t answer him. She couldn’t. She knew if she did she would crumble. Beg to be with him.
He’d begged her. To talk to him. To think things through. He hadn’t said he wanted to be with her, but she thought she understood the subtext of all his messages.
She could not allow it. It would only end in disaster. Wouldn’t it?
Etta had called, then called again when Rosie hadn’t answered her. When she left a late-night message on the Midnight Ink voicemail asking Sassy to cancel all her appointments for the next few days, Sassy had called and demanded to know what was going on. She hadn’t returned her calls, either.
It was easier to stay wrapped up in her blankets on the big bed in her living room, watching old movies, pretending not to cry. But she’d gone through an entire box of tissues.
She didn’t want to be that girl—she never had been. And it only went to prove how awful things could get if she risked allowing herself to tell Finn how she felt. If she even risked telling herself how she felt.
Did she even fucking know?
She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. Fucking awful.
There was a loud knock at her door and she hit the mute button on the remote, silencing the black and white images on the television screen.
Could it be him?
Please no.
“God damn it, Rosie. Open this
Similar Books
