You know. Being Finn.
When I’d found out he was my father’s spy after falling in love with him, I never would’ve thought we could move on from that. Never thought I could move on from that. But when it came to a life without Finn, well, I didn’t want to live that life.
I’d tried it. It sucked. I wasn’t going back.
I heard someone come up behind me in the library and I gazed over my shoulder. One of the last people I wanted to talk to right now stood there, looking ashamed of himself.
Good. He should be.
“Hey, Carrie.”
He scratched his head, barely managing to muss up his blond hair, and gave me a sheepish smile. His gold Rolex—which almost made me laugh, since Finn called him Golden Boy—glinted in the light, so at contrast with Finn’s G-Shock watch he sometimes wore that it made me wonder what the hell I’d ever thought Cory could give me out of life. He was my politician father about thirty years ago.
I had no idea why there’d even been a hint of interest in my mind for this man when Finn was within a five hundred-mile radius of me. Cory was everything my father would want for me, and everything I did not.
I tensed. “Hi.”
“Uh…” Cory cleared his throat. “Can we talk about the other night? I saw you over here studying earlier, but didn’t want to interrupt.”
I was trying to forget all about that ugly scene outside of the frat party where he said those awful things to Finn about him being nothing more than trailer park trash. Really freaking hard. It was kind of difficult to be the bigger person when I wanted to punch him for being so darn condescending to the man I loved.
No one insulted Finn and got away with it. Call me overprotective, and maybe I was more like Dad than I cared to admit, but I wanted to claw out Cory’s eyes.
I blew my hair out of my face and shoved my last book into my bag. It barely fit. “I don’t really think there’s anything to say.”
“Look,” Cory said quietly, his eyes lowered, “I’m sorry that I—”
“How’s your stomach, by the way?”
Cory flushed and shifted on his feet. “It’s fine. I don’t even really remember what happened that night. I was pretty drunk.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed.” I headed down the stairs to the classroom’s exit, and he walked with me. “You said some pretty nasty things, you know.”
He stopped walking. “To you?”
“To Finn.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.
He totally relaxed when I told him it wasn’t me he hurt. The jerk.
Cory rubbed the back of his neck. For his part, he did at least look slightly ashamed of what he’d done. “I really don’t recall. I just remember waking up with a sore stomach and a copy of the police report I apparently filed. I feel horrible about the whole thing. You have to believe me.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said, gripping the shoulder strap of my bag even tighter. My anger faded away a little bit, but not all the way. “He’ll be outside waiting for me, so you can apologize to him if you want.”
He flushed and stumbled on a step. “Are you two…you know, back together?”
“Yeah, we are.” I pressed my lips together, feeling as if I needed to explain myself or something. “I know you thought we were—”
He laughed uneasily, but his red cheeks gave away his discomfiture on the topic. “I didn’t think anything. Really. It’s fine. I hope you’re happy with him. That’s all that matters.”
“No speeches about how it’ll fail this time?”
He lifted a shoulder and averted his eyes. “I think I said enough on this topic already, don’t you?”
“I guess you did, yeah.”
He opened the door for me and motioned me through. Today he seemed different. I lifted my head, squinting through the bright sun for any signs of Finn. And then I saw him.
He leaned against a huge palm tree, his bike parked behind him. He wore a pair of ripped blue jeans and a green T-shirt with a stick figure missing his back on the front. The other figure held it in his hand and smiled. It was funny and stupid and so Finn.
His tattoos flexed on his muscular arms, making me want to trace each one with my tongue, and I took a big step toward him.
Would that urge, that need for him, ever go away?
God, I hoped not.
I knew the exact moment he noticed me. His eyes warmed, and he ran his left hand over his short brown curls. His mouth tipped into a bright smile…that is, until his gaze skidded to the side and he noticed who was with me.
Then he looked less sunny and more dangerous. Go figure.
He tugged on his curls and he pushed off the tree, stalking toward me. As he crossed the grass, Cory stiffened beside me. “Is he going to hit me again?” he whispered.
“No, he wouldn’t do that.” I hesitated, watching the storm gather in Finn’s blue eyes, making them look almost gray. “I wouldn’t say anything cocky, though, if I were you.”
“God, no,” Cory said, straightening to his full height. “I’m not an idiot.”
That might be debatable, but I kept my mouth shut. He’d said he was sorry.
Finn reached us in record time, and he held his hand out for my bag. I gave it to him without a fight. As he slipped it over his own shoulder, he shot Cory a foul look.
“What the hell is Cody doing here?” Finn snapped, his entire body throwing off anger in heat waves.
I didn’t bother to correct him about Cory’s name. He knew darn well he’d said it wrong. I walked over to his side and rested a hand on his chest. “Finn, let him talk.”
“Why should I?” His heart thumped erratically beneath my hand, and he looked down at me, the anger softening slightly. “I’ve got nothing to say to him.”
“Because he has something to say to you.” I moved to Finn’s side, entwining his fingers with mine. Finn held on, his grip firm. “Cory, go ahead.”
“I’m…” Cory looked at me, pale. I nodded, giving him the encouragement he seemed to need. “I’m s-sorry I was a jerk the other night. Whatever I said…I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, but I think you did.” Finn snorted. “Maybe, for the first time in your entire life, you were completely honest with me.”
Cory flushed. “Seeing as how I don’t even remember what I said, I can’t agree or disagree.”
“Let me enlighten you. You said that—”