Falling for Finn Page 4
Yeah, they were supposed to be. But he’d never been any good at it. Not when it came to her.
The restless anger inside him coiled a little tighter, frustration climbing higher. He paced away from the couch again, going back over to the window. Needing to move. Burn some of it off. Get his mind clear.
I want something good to tell me what good feels like…
The hard sound of her voice as she’d spoken the facts of her assault echoed through him, each word like an arrow in his gut.
He wanted to hit something. Or someone.
“Jesus, Finn, can you sit down? You’re making me dizzy with all that pacing around.”
He turned. She had her head propped on the heel of one hand, fingers speared through her brown hair, elbow on her knee. Like she was tired. Or had a headache.
“Maybe I should go,” she went on, her voice slightly muffled. “I need to get home anyway.”
“How do you know it would be good?”
Anna lifted her head. “What?”
“You said you wanted something good to remember. What makes you think sex would be good with me?”
Faint color on her cheeks. “Oh, well…I’ve never heard any complaints.”
No, because he made sure there weren’t any. He’d always been good at physical stuff, and that included sex. “I didn’t know you made a habit of interviewing my lovers, Anna.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t, believe me.” A small pause. “Lily talked.”
Lily? A weird hot feeling went through him. “She told you?”
“About that secret—” she raised her hands to do air quotes around the word, “—affair you guys were having? Yes. She did.”
Finn thrust his hands in his pockets. Strange, because he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it. Right? “Why?”
Anna shot him an impatient look. “Because I asked her. Honestly, Finn. Did you really think I didn’t know?”
He’d suspected. “Lily thought you’d be jealous.” It came out defensive, which pissed him off.
A soft, mirthless laugh escaped her. “Jealous? Why on earth would I be jealous?”
His jaw tightened as the hot feeling burned deeper. “I don’t know. It wasn’t my idea to make it a big secret.”
Defensive again, Shaw?
Anna shook her head. “Well, it was sweet of you both to consider my feelings, but really, you didn’t need to bother.” She leaned down and put the drink back on the floor. “I really should go. I need to get home before it gets dark.”
Wait, she was going? Now?
He frowned. “So that’s it?”
Anna pushed herself off the couch. “What do you mean, that’s it?” She bent to retrieve her backpack.
“I won’t have sex with you, so you’re leaving?”
She straightened. “It’s not like that.”
“Bullshit, Anna. It’s exactly like that.”
“Well, what the hell do you want me to do instead? Sit around getting drunk with you?” A spark of anger glowed in her green eyes. “Talk about my experience? Share more details? Work through my anger? Well, you’re shit out of luck if so. Talking did nothing. And I’ve had guts full of it.”
Somehow he’d come back over to where she stood. Not close, but close enough to see her pupils dilate slightly. Close enough to scent the soft, familiar Anna-smell of her. The sweetness of vanilla in her favorite perfume, the one she’d been wearing for years and years. And beneath it the underlying musk that was all her.
He should let this go. Didn’t even know why he was standing here, between her and the door. But he’d never been able to let her walk away, not when she needed him.
“What did you think I’d say?” he asked, not moving.
“I don’t know.” It sounded sulky.
“Crap. You always think things through, Anna. “
“Okay, so I did. I thought you’d want to help me.”
“I do want to help you.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
Anger and frustration coiled deep inside him. “Because I don’t want to be used as your personal vibrator just so you can work out your shit.”
He hadn’t meant to say it like that. Hadn’t meant to be so blunt. And when he saw the flash of hurt and anger in her eyes, he knew he’d gone too far.
“My shit?” Incredulity in her tone. “That assault was my shit?”
Finn let out a breath. Jesus, he’d never been this much of prick with a woman before, least of all Anna Jameson whom he’d known since he was seven years old. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just…” He lifted a hand, pushed it through his hair. “Do you even want me, Anna? Or does that not even come into it?”
Her gaze slid away from his, her cheeks coloring up. “W-want you? What’s that got to do with it?”
Finn dropped his hand, disappointment gathering inside him. A bitter, aching disappointment. “Because it’s kind of important to me.”
“Why?”
Did she really have to ask him that? “I may be a guy, but I have feelings just the same as you. Making love to someone who doesn’t actually want me isn’t a turn-on.”
Anna blinked. Then she let out a breath. “I…” She stopped, then murmured, “I need the bathroom. Be back in a sec.” She sidestepped him, backpack dropping back onto the ground as she moved across the room and disappeared down the hallway.
He cursed under his breath. Avoiding again. She couldn’t really want this. Not really. So why the hell was he pushing? He’d already decided not to do it, hadn’t he?
Hadn’t he?
Anna bent over the bathroom basin, flicking water over her burning face, her heart beating weirdly fast.
What the hell was she doing? She should have just left, not taken a side trip into the bathroom. Leaving was what she’d intended to do because there wasn’t any point staying. Not now.
Do you even want me?
She straightened, looked at herself in the mirror. God, her cheeks looked like a five-year-old had taken to them with the blusher pot. The whole blusher pot. Damn pale skin. It showed every mark.
Anna pressed her palms to her hot face.
She’d thought about her request long and hard before she’d come here, viewed it from every angle. Even made herself think about how sex with Finn would be, though it had embarrassed her to the point of groaning. How it would happen. What he’d do.
She’d thought he’d probably be gentle and patient. Perhaps tender. She hoped she wouldn’t feel afraid with him—certainly in her imaginings she’d never felt fear. Embarrassment, yes. Fear, no. And she’d wanted it to be good. Not necessarily earth-moving type of good, but at least some pleasure with which to replace the horrible nothingness she had now.
Actually, just being able to touch someone without going dry-mouthed with fear would be a start. She missed physical closeness. That sense of connection with another person.
One more reason she’d chosen Finn. He was a physical kind of guy, plus he was good at things that involved physical exertion.
Afterwards, she’d expected to put it behind them and not think of it again.
She’d thought he’d feel the same.
Crap, girl. You didn’t think that. Because you didn’t consider how he might feel about this at all, right?
Anna bit her lip, uncomfortably aware that her subconscious—the bitch—was right.
Once again she’d treated him like a dumb male who would do anything to get off. But he wasn’t. God, she knew that.
Finn Shaw was one of the most intelligent people she’d ever met.
She sighed, staring at herself.
Maybe she’d been naïve. What had made her think sex with her best friend would cure the fear anyway? Forcing herself to be intimate with someone just to get over her fear seemed ridiculous.
But you did want to be able to enjoy a happy sexual relationship with someone else at some stage. And you did want some good memories. To fill in the blank
spaces…
Anna shut her eyes, the conversation she’d had with Lily suddenly echoing inside her.
“So, why?” she’d asked her friend, once they’d got over the general embarrassment of Lily’s supposedly secret affair with Finn being not so secret after all.
“Have you not seen the guy?” Lily had looked at her like she was insane. “He’s smoking hot. Jeez, I can’t believe you’ve never gone there yourself.”
“He’s my friend, Lil.”
“So?” And then, much to her intense embarrassment, Lily had leaned forward and whispered, “He’s a god in bed, Anna. He does this thing with his tongue that’s—”
“Shut up!” she’d shrieked, just about putting her hands over her ears. “God’s sake, I don’t want to know.” And she really hadn’t. It had been like hearing what her brother was like in bed. If she’d had a brother.
Lily had shrugged. “Your loss. You know the best part though? He actually likes cuddling afterwards. He gets all slow and gentle.” Her friend had shivered then. Noticeably. “Makes you feel safe.”
Safe.
That was why she’d wanted to do this with Finn. Because he was safe. She knew him. Trusted him. He would never hurt her.
And also because Lily said he’s a god in bed. Don’t kid yourself it’s not.
Anna swallowed.
Yeah, okay, that may have had something to do with it. But acknowledging that felt dangerous. As did acknowledging that fledgling awareness inside her. That awareness of Finn as something more than a friend.
She didn’t know if she wanted to go there. Keeping it just about the sex, not letting the friendship part of it get in the way, felt safer. Easier somehow. Less complicated.
Man, weren’t guys supposed to be thinking this crap?
The back of her neck prickled. She glanced in the mirror and met Finn’s eyes staring into hers. He’d followed her to the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the frame, arms folded. Anna found herself looking at them. Lean forearms, long fingers resting on powerful biceps, smooth brown skin… All those extreme sports he did must have made him strong. God. Sexy. Really, really sexy.
“Are you going or what?”
She dried her hands and turned. “Why? Changed your mind?”
“Do you really want me to?”
“I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I hadn’t wanted—”
“I’m serious, Anna.” There was something in his gaze she couldn’t quite work out. “Do you really have any idea what you’re asking?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
“Then what? A quick fuck on the couch? Is that what you’re after?”
She could feel herself blushing at the crudity of it, and a flash of anger went through her. “Why? Is that all you’re up for these days?”
He said nothing and Anna bit her lip, hating the way the words suddenly sounded petulant. She let out a breath. “I thought we’d have a night.” It felt weird to say it out loud. To him. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel when…you know…”
“When we fuck?”
“No! Stop saying that.”
“But that’s what you’re asking.”
A tense silence fell between them.
“Why are you so angry about this?” she blurted out. “You’re acting like I personally offended you or something. If you don’t want to do it, don’t. I’m disappointed, yeah, but I understand your reasons for saying no. Is there anything more to be said?”
The tension in him was almost a palpable thing. His fingers, where they pressed against the skin of his biceps, were almost white. But when he spoke, it was soft. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?”
She frowned, confused. “Say what?”
“I want you to sleep with me, Finn.”
For a second his words didn’t make any sense. The expression on his face almost unnerving in its intensity. Her mouth felt oddly dry. “What do you mean?”
“Years, Anna. I’ve waited years.”
The air seemed thin, time distorting weirdly around them. Around this moment. “Years?” she echoed blankly.
“You came over for a swim in the pool the day you got your first bikini. It was green and blue and tiny. You were so shy about it, and I had to bribe you with chocolate just to get a look at you in it.” She remembered. She’d been sixteen and horribly embarrassed about it. And yet, at the same time, kind of excited. Wanting to know what Finn thought. Hoping she looked good because she’d been getting more and more interested in guys, and a guy opinion about the bikini had seemed necessary.
Finn’s gaze was almost hypnotic. She couldn’t look away.
“You were…” He stopped, let out a breath. “So freaking beautiful. And I wanted you. From that moment on, I wanted you.”
The room seemed too small, the walls closing in. And he seemed too large, taking up all the available space. All the available air.
“So yeah,” he went on, still quiet. “I’m a little angry. I’m a little angry that after telling myself to stop panting after you like a hungry dog, after finally letting go of the fantasy, you’re now offering it to me on a plate.”
Shivers went through her. Chills chasing themselves over her skin.
Finn wanted her. Finn Shaw, her best friend, wanted her.
Had wanted her for years.
Jesus.
Anna swallowed. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what response to give him.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked finally, her voice gone hoarse. “I had no idea.”
“No, and that’s how I’d meant it to stay. You didn’t feel that way about me and I respected that. I respected you. Your friendship was the most important thing in my life, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that simply because I wanted to get into your pants. I still don’t.” He pushed himself abruptly away from the doorframe. “I want to help you, Green Eyes. More than anything in the world. But you have to understand what you’re asking from me. Making love to you is every fantasy I’ve ever had. But in every single one of those fantasies, you wanted me too. So if all you’re really looking for is an extended therapy session, then you can find some other guy to do it, because I’m not interested.”
Then before she could say a word, he turned and left, leaving her staring at the empty space where he had been.
In every single one of those fantasies, you wanted me too…
Slowly, Anna turned back to the mirror. Stared at the woman in the glass. Shock ran through her in response to his admission. Shock and something else. Something wild and uninhibited. Something she’d never let herself acknowledge before.
You do want him.
Finn walked out into the lounge, automatically going over to pick up the Scotch glass left on the floor. He didn’t like mess, a trait that Anna had always kidded him over since, apparently, people who liked extreme sports also couldn’t be tidy.
Carrying it over to the breakfast bar, he set it down, then put his palms flat on the wood and bent his head.
Why had he told her? Why the hell had he told her? He hadn’t meant to. He’d just gone in there because he’d wanted to know if she was leaving or not. Not to spill his guts like a washed-up Hollywood star on daytime TV.
He pushed away from the bar, turned around and leaned back against it, fingers curling around the edge of the smooth wood
Christ, her face as he’d told her. Going pale, eyes huge, full of shock. She’d never suspected, clearly. And that was just as well, since he’d never intended for her to know.
But, God, he’d had to say something. She had to know what her request meant to him, that he wasn’t being an asshole by refusing to help.
Hesitant footsteps across the floor, stopping over by the armchair.
He lifted his head and there she was, hands thrust in the back pockets of her jeans, brown hair in glossy wings grazing the delicate line of her jaw. She looked nervous, awkward.
So strange and unfamiliar to have this tension between them. It had never happened before.
“So?” He shifted against the wood. “Are you going then?”
“Actually…” She broke off, biting her lip.
“What?”
A pause.
“I was just wondering.” Her green eyes came to his, color stealing through her face. “Is there any reason we both can’t have what we want?”
Pressure in his chest. A surge of adrenaline through his whole body. Like riding the perfect wave. Or heading down the half-pipe on his snowboard. A rush. He almost stopped breathing. “What are you talking about?”
She didn’t look away. Not this time. “I’m talking about you helping me. And me…” A slight hesitation. “Giving you your fantasy.”
He didn’t move. “I told you. I’m not doing this if you don’t—”
“I want you, Finn.”
A soft rush of words. Stopping him in his tracks. Stopping time. “What?” His voice sounded hoarse. Not his.
Anna’s face became rosy. “You heard me.”
His fingers gripped the wood of the bar. Hard. “Say it again.”
She bit her lip again. “I…want you.”
“Why should I believe you?” He found himself not wanting to. Unable to even hope that it might be true. “You could be saying that so you get what you want.”
Anna’s eyes widened, a flash of hurt in them. “Okay, I get that you’re angry, but don’t be a bastard, Finn. You really think I’d do that to you?”
No, he didn't. But… “So you came to this realization when? In the last five minutes? You’ll forgive me if I think the timing is just a little too perfect.”
The hurt had vanished from her gaze to be replaced by anger. “The timing has nothing to do with it.” Her jaw tightened. “No, I haven’t seen you in that way before. But that’s because it was a conscious decision, Finn. You never seemed interested in me, so I thought it would be easier not to go there. Being your friend was much better than being just another one of your ex-lovers.” She shifted on her feet. “But when I thought about us together…I changed my mind.”
He wanted to believe her. Really believe she desired him. Desired him the way he desired her.