“I’d like that,” she whispered.
He nodded. “See, right down there?” He pointed to the right and down. “Straight down over there is where I met you for the first time.”
She smiled, though she thought it was strange that he would bring it up again after the revelation of the afternoon.
“Right over there,” he pointed to a different spot, “is where I ran into you when you were getting coffee that day.” Asher was all over their memories, and he didn’t seem to be able to see that. She closed her eyes, trying to take in what he was saying, but suddenly feeling like she was going to break down. This had been a bad idea.
He spun her around so that she was facing him, lowering his head so she had to meet his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, Blythe. I know everything makes you think of him.”
She bit her lip, her eyes watering as she tried to shake her head. It was no use. She couldn’t deny it. Her heart was broken despite the fact that she’d wanted to choose Finn at the wedding, despite the fact that Asher was a criminal and a liar. She’d loved him, and that didn’t just go away.
“But I also know that you have feelings for me. I don’t need you to admit it yet,” he said when she tried to interrupt. “But I know it’s true. I want to show you that this city can be ours. Or yours. Everything that reminds you of him, we can make new memories to replace the old. Better ones. Don’t let him take anything else from you, Blythe.”
“It’s not that simple,” she whined.
“It is. It is that simple. I’m going to help you…if you’ll let me.” He brushed a piece of hair from her face, tucking it safely behind her ear. “The choice is yours. New York is a big place. We can find somewhere Asher-free, or we can make new memories and let you forget about him.”
“What if I can’t?”
“You know,” he said, looking over her shoulder across the sky and back to her, “I used to wonder that, too. See, he broke my heart as well. Not in the same way, obviously, but I lost my brother ten years ago. When I got out of prison, this city was filled with memories that Asher and I had made. Everywhere I looked, there he was.”
“How did you get over it?”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you know when I do.”
She looked down, touching her forehead to his. “How are you going to fix me if you’re broken yourself?”
“Maybe the goal isn’t being fixed. Maybe the goal is just…pushing past all the shit and forcing yourself to keep going. To move on. To grow. To love again.”
She looked up, meeting his dark eyes with fear and passion all at the same time. This was insane. Crazy. Ridiculous. This was happening.
“Can I?” he asked, seeking permission to kiss her just hours after she was supposed to be kissing someone else. For eternity.
She nodded, letting his lips find hers. The kiss was careful and unsure, as if they were both finding their footing on this new path. It ended slowly and a bit sadly as the tears still remained in her eyes.
“Can I tell you something else I’ve never told anyone?” he asked, his eyes closed as if he were savoring the moment for just a bit longer.
“Of course,” she agreed, unsure if she could take any more life-altering secrets.
“I have been waiting for this moment for a very…long…time.”
She grinned as he opened his eyes. “I think maybe I have, too.”
He kissed her again, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I think I might love you, Blythe.”
“You may have mentioned that,” she said, smirking at him warmly.
“I’ll mention it every single day until you’re ready to say it back.” With that, his lips were back on hers and he began to sway. A saxophone player was playing somewhere on the deck, and the couple—despite the fact that everyone was staring at them, and that the entire day had been a disaster and she was wearing a dress that was meant for someone else—moved together like it was their first and last night together all in one. Nothing mattered but each other as she stared into his eyes, seeing a part of him she was sure he didn’t let many people see. The part that loved her. The part that she was pretty sure she loved in return. For just that moment, she couldn’t have asked for anything closer to her fairy tale.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Thank you for tonight, Finn. It was,” she sighed, “exactly what I needed.”
“No problem,” he said, standing in her doorway with one hand resting on the frame. “I’m happy to help.”
“Do you want to come inside?” she asked.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Feels weird that I should even have to ask.”
“It is a little reverse déjà vu, huh?” He laughed. She shut the door, turning back toward him.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’m starving.”
“Food sounds amazing,” he agreed. “I guess we should’ve grabbed something while we were out, huh?”
She shook her head. “Actually, I’d like to cook something, if you’re okay with waiting a bit? Cooking helps me relax.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“What do you like?”
He smiled. “Literally anything at this point. I haven’t eaten all day.”
She thought for a moment. “Ya know, I just realized I haven’t either.” She patted her stomach. “No wonder I’m so hungry.” She turned around, walking behind the kitchen counter and pulling out a mixing bowl. “My mom and I used to cook together. She made the best, well, everything, I guess. She loved to make everything from scratch.”
“Sounds amazing.” He leaned against the counter, watching her work. Suddenly, she froze.
“I guess I should change out of this, huh?” she asked.
“I’d love to change out of my tux, but I don’t have anything to change into, and something tells me our usual clothing swap—in reverse this time—won’t work out.”
She let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth. “Oh no! You’re right. I don’t think I’m quite your size. What are you going to do?”
He shrugged, pulling off his jacket. She watched as if she were being hypnotized as his hands unbuttoned the shirt sleeves and then made their way down his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly to reveal a white T-shirt underneath. “I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, though her eyes wouldn’t remove themselves from his forearms. As much as she loved him in a tux, there was something so incredibly sexy about seeing him dressed down, his hair slightly messed up, his chest and shoulders on display.
She closed her eyes, turning away as her cheeks heated up. “I’m going to go change,” she spat out quickly, hoping she could find the clothes she wanted quickly since everything was already packed up to move to Asher’s.
“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing her behavior.
“I’m…fine,” she said, hurrying down the hall quickly toward her bedroom. She reached for the zipper in the back, twirling in circles as she attempted to take hold of it. Finally, she groaned, bending down and trying to pull the dress over her head and then down over her body. Neither way worked. A tap on her slightly open door caused her to turn around.
“Need a hand?” he asked, staring at her with a cocky grin. He walked toward her slowly, his hands reaching for the dress. She turned around, feeling his fingers glide across her skin before they located the zipper. He pulled it down slowly—probably too slowly—until it reached just above her butt. The movement stopped, and he cleared his throat. The realization that he was staring at her bare back, nothing in between them, set her skin ablaze.
“Thank you,” she whispered, turning around to face him. He stared at her, his eyes filled with a burning desire she’d never seen in him before. She glanced down, trying to calm her racing heart.
He reached for her face, lifting her chin so she would meet his eyes again. “Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Don’t be shy with me. I want to know you, Blythe. All of you.”
Her jaw
dropped open at his words, her thoughts jumbling and turning to mush. What was she supposed to say to that? All she could seem to think about was his lips—open and waiting for hers; his eyes, burning with desire for her; his hand as it crept from her chin toward her shoulder. He brushed the strap of her dress away slowly, his fingers taking in every inch of skin as they moved.
“I can’t…” She took a deep breath, her voice quivering. “I can’t have sex with you in the dress I picked out for someone else, Finn.” Her voice was a low whisper, hardly any power to it.
“So, take it off,” he growled, his hand still on her shoulder.
If it was possible, she felt her cheeks growing even brighter red. He leaned down, his lips moving toward hers cautiously. When their mouths met, there was a fire between them that hadn’t been there before. Suddenly, she was hungry for something else entirely.
His hand slid the strap completely down her arm, the opposite hand reaching to do the same with her other side. His tongue tangled with hers, wild and passionate, as he reached to remove the pins from her hair. He kissed her cheek, her neck, then stepped away slightly to stand behind her. He pulled one bobby pin at a time from her updo, kissing her neck in between each one. She watched in the mirror on the far side of the room as each lock fell down, his eyes meeting hers as he kissed her skin. Once her hair was down, he spun her back around, looking her over carefully.
“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he told her. She reached for her cheek to look away out of habit, but he stopped her. “I said stop that,” he warned.
She nodded, meeting his eye. “Fine.”
He smirked. “Better.” His mouth was back on her skin, his hands holding hers out to her sides so she had no control over what he was doing. Not that she would’ve stopped him. What he was doing caused her body to react in ways it never had before. Chills ran down her skin as his tongue grazed her collarbone, his warm breath tickling her neck.
She let out a moan without conscious thought. The man had power over her like no other—even Asher. Finn let go of her hands finally, his fingers grazing the neckline of her dress. He pulled it away from her body, his eyes on hers as if asking permission without words. She nodded.
The heat grew in his eyes as he stared down at her bare body, nearly every bit of her on display for him. “So beautiful,” he repeated, his eyes scanning her up and down. He reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, lifting it over his head in one swift motion.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen his chest, but that didn’t stop it from aweing her. She looked over his perfectly muscled arms, his chiseled abs and chest, and the deep ‘V’ at the bottom of his stomach she’d only ever seen on photoshopped models.
He moved toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her into a kiss. His fingers gripped her lower back as if she was the only thing keeping him alive. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her nails trailing up his neck and into his hair. He let out a moan, telling her how good it felt. He reached for his belt with one hand, unhooking it after a moment of effort, and forced his pants to fall to the ground. She put her hand on the wall behind her, flipping the light switch so the room fell dark except for the city lights outside. He pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, trailing kisses from her neck to her chest, down between her breasts and toward her navel. He stopped, working his way back up and moving his mouth across her breasts. She let out a loud moan, arching her back and wanting to beg him not to stop.
“You like that?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
She was silent, breathing heavily and praying he wouldn’t ask again. She’d never been comfortable with talking during sex, and she was sure if he pushed it, it would get awkward.
He sat up, reaching for her panties—the only barrier left between them. She lifted her bottom from the bed, allowing him to pull them down. His mouth went back to her breast, his thumb finding its way in between her legs.
He worked like an old pro, and she didn’t want to think about how much practice it must’ve taken to become as good as he was. Without knowing what she liked, without knowing what worked for her, he was causing such immense pleasure to course through her body that she couldn’t contain herself. She shook with gratification, her muscles having a mind of their own, her mouth releasing sounds she had no control over.
Suddenly, the pleasure stopped as he released his mouth and stopped the circles his thumb had been making. “Tell me,” he repeated, his voice firm.
“Please don’t stop,” she begged, her voice ripping from her throat as her body came back down from its high.
He nuzzled her neck, nipping and biting her skin as he whispered in her ear. “Tell me what you like, Blythe. Tell me what you want. Use my name.”
A bolt of lightning shot through her at his words, her hips lifting and writhing underneath him. She twisted a fist into the back of his hair, pushing his head down between her legs. “I want you there,” she told him, feeling her confidence grow in his presence.
He licked her inner thigh. “Here?” he asked, his lips moving against her skin.
“Uh-uh,” she said.
He moved his mouth further north, deliberately avoiding the spot he knew she meant. His tongue grazed her skin once more. “Here?”
“Finn,” she begged, sure her heart couldn’t take much more. “Please.”
He groaned with passion, his eyes meeting hers in the moonlight. “Your wish is my command.”
Her body responded to his actions immediately, her throat growing tight as she twisted and pulsed, begging for more, calling his name loudly. All too quickly, her limbs went tight and she felt her body fall into a mindblowing orgasm, her head thrown back from pleasure. Seemingly pleased with himself, he sat up, sliding back to her mouth and kissing her firmly. He rolled over, leaning toward the drawer, but she stopped him.
“I don’t keep condoms. I’m allergic,” she explained, her voice soft. Having to admit that fact always caused her to worry.
“Shit,” he complained. “Shit. Okay. What do we do?”
“I’m on the pill,” she told him. “Are you…I mean…”
“I’m clean,” he assured her. He raised a brow. “You?”
“Me, too.” She nodded, pulling him back to her. He was warm against her chilled skin, his body sliding on top of hers quickly. He rolled over, pulling her on top of him so she was straddling his waist. He gripped her neck, pulling her down to meet his lips as his hand went between her legs, guiding himself into her so slowly it was almost painful.
He let out a pleasure-filled half laugh against her cheek as he began to pulse inside of her, gripping her hips as she sat up. Their eyes locked together, him guiding her up and down, her screams of ecstasy rhythmic as their movements grew faster.
He stopped, sitting up though they remained locked together as he laid her flat on her back, taking hold of her breasts as his hips slammed against her.
Their skin stuck together from the heat of the room, their bodies in sync like they were made to be in this place forever. She felt her muscles growing tight again, and she knew he was waiting to send her over the edge.
He grasped her nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, twisting gently. “Come for me, Blythe,” he commanded, and she did, as if her body knew it was already his.
The second she began to shake, he leaned down so their chests were touching, squeezing his body against hers as a moan ripped from his throat, and they both fell into a state of euphoria together.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A week later, a knock sounded on the door as Blythe prepared to leave for work. She hurried toward it, searching around for where she’d left her phone.
She swung the door open without checking who was waiting for her and frowned.
Asher stood in front of her, his eyes glassy and bloodshot, his clothes dingy. He reeked of alcohol.
“As
her?” she asked, staring at the object in his hands: the bag he’d once ripped from her grasp.
“Blythe,” he said, his voice breaking before he’d even begun. He walked forward, reaching for her, but she jerked away. He stopped just inside the doorway. “It’s all there. Your cell phone, wallet, two thousand dollars in cash. Besides the necklace, I think that’s all I took, but if there’s something else, just let me know and I’ll find it or replace it.”
“Asher, I replaced this stuff months ago. The only thing that mattered was the necklace.” She took the package from him nonetheless.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know it was you, Blythe. I swear to you I didn’t. I didn’t even look at the driver’s license or at the phone after I took it. I don’t even know why I did it. It was just a…I don’t know, a prank.”
“A prank?” she asked skeptically. “Asher, do you even realize what losing this bag meant to me? It was my first day in New York City. I was suddenly without anything in the world that belonged to me. I didn’t have any money or a phone to call for help. I knew no one.”
He nodded, looking at the floor like a scolded child. “I wish I could take it back. It was stupid.”
“You can’t, though. It’s done. If it wasn’t for Finn, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done that day.”
“Yeah, Finn saves the day, just like always.” He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t do that,” she said angrily. “Don’t you blame him. It’s your fault, Asher. All of this is your fault. Including the fact that I met Finn in the first place. I walked away from you in that church because you lied. It had nothing to do with Finn.”
“So, you don’t love him?”
She started to answer but stopped. “I don’t know how I feel. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened.”
“Does that mean we still have a chance? I’ve changed, I swear to you I have. I love you so much.” He reached for her hand, his eyes filled with sudden hope.
“No,” she said quickly, pulling her hand away. “It definitely does not mean we still have anything even remotely resembling a chance. You and I are done. What you did…what you’ve done and gotten away with. I’m disgusted by that part of you, Asher. And that part of you is a really, really important piece of who you are.”
The Better Choice Page 15