Love Me (Promise Me Book 4)

by Brea Viragh

  His hand kept coming toward me, centimeter by centimeter, while he waited for me to answer.

  “Shut up. I’m not nervous.” Fingers crossed that the derision covered my lie. I was on my way toward a good buzz. Definitely not nervous. I took his hand. The heat in my torso when he touched me meant nothing. The skittering along my skin when he drew me close meant less.

  It was hot in the bar.

  I was riding high on a mixture of liquor and peanuts.

  I totally had this.

  “There you go. See? It’s not so bad.” His breath tickled my hair when he rested his chin on my head.

  “We’re the only people dancing,” I murmured. “You’re dancing.”

  There were eyes on us. Pressing, getting closer and closer, watching our every move.

  “I told you. I’m a work in progress,” he said. “I can walk, dance, fuck…”

  I gave him a slap on the chest. “Let’s refrain from the bad language. We’re out in public.”

  “Tell me one thing, Ros.”

  “What?”

  “How—” Finn broke off to spin me around before tugging me back into the dance. “—did you manage to tolerate me all this time?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.

  “I didn’t make it easy. I’ll let you in on a secret.” He moved until his lips grazed my ear. “It was on purpose. To test your mettle. Most of the people who met me after the accident left within five minutes. Hell, most people I knew before the accident stopped talking to me altogether. What made you stay? You lost our bet.”

  “I said that to make you feel better. After all, look.” I took a step back to stare at him. “You’re on your way toward normal.”

  He smiled. “No. I’ll never be normal.”

  “I don’t know why I stayed.”

  “I agree. Neither do I.”

  “Where do we go from here?” I wondered, resting my cheek on the buttery softness of his jacket. Fuzzy-brained and content, I wanted to know. I wanted to know how we would fit each other in, once there wasn’t a legitimate reason to come together.

  Memories of the gossip surrounding Finn faded when his arms brought me even closer. I felt the rise and fall of his chest against mine, each awkward hitch when he caught himself losing balance. A work in progress, yes, but he was also a man.

  The song ended, leaving the two of us with the recriminations of people’s stares. They made connections in their heads. Put the puzzle pieces together the best they could. Wondered what I was doing out with Finn Price.

  “You know,” Finn said, breaking the silence, “I don’t think you’re a klutz at all.”

  I jerked, stepping on the hem of my skirt and ripping a hole. Proving him wrong in less than a second. “You were saying?”

  “Weston was wrong. You told me he had reservations about taking you out because there was always some kind of accident,” Finn stated. “But it wasn’t you.”

  “It’s me,” I disagreed. “I have a problem controlling myself.”

  “And you had these issues at your old firm?” It was less a question than a statement.

  “Well, no. I never had issues.”

  “It’s nerves, not clumsiness. Call it stress from the move. Or staying too long in a relationship that didn’t suit you. Either one.”

  “Then how do you explain what happened today?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what happened today?”

  I hid my face in his jacket. “It’s too embarrassing.”

  “You were upset about something. Emotions running high.” He spared me a gentle squeeze. “Not everyone can handle a flopping boob with such grace.”

  “She told you?” I groaned and scurried back to our table.

  He followed me, slowly, flipping the chair around and having a seat with his arms crossed over the back. “We have a direct line of contact, Ros. It’s this nifty thing called a cell phone. Cassandra gave me her number.”

  “I don’t want to talk about what happened.”

  “No wonder you came to a place like this. You wanted to drown your sorrows in something hard. I’ve got just the thing for you.” His gaze dropped to his crotch. “Hard and ready.”

  “Spare me.”

  “It’s not your usual venue. I’m happy to see you, but you look out of place.”

  “Probably because I’m not breaking something.”

  “Will you listen to me for once?” His fingers dug into my shoulders when he lunged across the table to shake me. “You are not a klutz. You live your life with all your emotions out in the open. It makes sense that you would have anxiety in a stressful situation. Where the pressure is on and the spotlight falls on you.”

  “I don’t need your words of wisdom, thanks anyway.” I focused in on his wrists and the muscles bunching along his forearms.

  “What will it take to prove I’m right?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer him. Did I really want him to be right? Not in this geological epoch.

  “I can see it now. It would rock your world to realize you’re not who Weston said you are.”

  “Care to prove it?”

  “Give me a couple of minutes and I can.”

  “You…might be on to something.” The point he’d made, not the proposition. My brain whirled faster than water down a flushed toilet and I had trouble keeping up. Frantic energy coursed through my veins. I clung to Finn, my anchor, the one person who, I was afraid, understood me better than I did myself.

  He used his chin to gesture toward the door. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Pull yourself together! I admonished. The rational me raged and beat against the inside of my skull. I needed to stop acting like a teenager who couldn’t make up her mind.

  I put my hand on his and nodded. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  In the passenger seat of my car, with the keys in Finn’s palm, I realized it was easy to agree but quite another monkey to follow through. We sat there, listening to soulful croons on the radio and the distinct lack of conversation between us. I felt more awkward than ever before.

  Where do we go from here? What am I doing?

  “You know, Cassandra asked me out earlier,” Finn finally said with deliberate ease. He flipped the car on and gunned the engine.

  As he pulled away from the bar, I shifted nervously, inadvertently catching my heel in the fabric of my skirt. The minuscule hole I’d ripped in it earlier became a crater, the sound of tearing fabric filling the car with an unbearable melody. I struggled to cover up my suddenly bare legs.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” I warned. “And you can go out with whomever you want. What, you need my permission? I’m not your momma.”

  Finn’s attention was divided. The car slowed and his gaze traveled the length of my thigh. There was nothing lecherous in the look. Nothing like I expected from him. What I saw there had my mouth watering.

  “You’re not laughing.”

  “No. I’m definitely not,” he remarked. He shook his head to clear it, focusing on the road and pumping the car back to the normal speed limit. “Sorry. Where do you want to go? Anywhere you want, passenger’s choice.”

  “Just home.” I flopped my head back on the seat rest, closing my eyes against the effort of being bold. “Take me home.”

  With my directions, Finn made it to the house in record time. It was a relief to see Trista’s car gone, though I knew she still had hours left of her shift. I didn’t want her to see me like this, reeking of stale cigarette smoke, clothes torn, and the town’s black sheep at my side. Right where I’d invited him.

  “This is your place?” Finn unfolded his body as he got out and then leaned against the side of the vehicle. “You never told me about your house before. It’s cute.”

  “It’s not mine. It belongs to my mother. I’m staying here while I get things settled.”

  “Until you get on your feet. I know. Although I’d hoped to see you off of them.” He shot me a leer
to make a flasher proud.

  I knew the reaction I was supposed to have. How under any other circumstance I would chuckle and return the tease tenfold.

  Tonight, there was something about him. The sprinkle of moonlight on his hair, the way his eyes flashed in the darkness and found me despite the lack of light. The way I could see he clearly wasn’t joking.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered when I failed to say anything. It seemed to be my default setting tonight. Silent in the face of uncertainty. “Make sure no one comes out of the bushes to assault you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I kept a good two feet of distance between us on the walk, where each step felt like I was wading through cold maple syrup. Dimly, I heard Finn talking about how he’d packed up his belongings at the rehab house before settling into a rental apartment. How he was ready to move on with his life and not look back. I kept walking, intent, focused on the plain pine door.

  My thoughts were filled with temptation. No matter what I tried to do to change the direction of them, they circled back to Finn. His scent. His arms. How his “jokes” echoed my desires, and what I was willing to do about them.

  The air around us filled with the sounds of the night, with a spring wind whistling through the tree branches and tiny frogs peeping near the creek. And over it all the thundering of my heart.

  A sense of urgency filled me, as though I stood on the edge of something extraordinary with a choice to make: Pull away to safety. Or sink.

  The house keys shook in my hand when I finally managed to pull them from my purse, still holding my torn skirt with the other hand. Finn braced one hand against the wall, imprisoning me between a shrub and his sinewy arm. My stomach somersaulted.

  He took the keys from me without a word. Soon the door was open and he helped me step inside.

  “Great place.” He ignored my muttered protests and made himself at home.

  The place was warm and homey, with a tired ceiling fan circling overhead to stir the air. The room was square and open through to the back and the kitchen. I’d never thought about it before, never thought about the same tired couch I remembered from childhood. Or the worn out table Trista clung to because it was a gift from my father.

  “It’s not much,” I said, glancing over at Finn.

  “It’s more than I have at my apartment.”

  “So you moved out of the rehab house?”

  Finn smiled and stepped forward to close the door, blocking out the breeze. Too close. “Like I told you, I couldn’t stay there once I got discharged. The state set me up with a cozy studio loft outside the city limits. I have a cinder block night stand, a mattress, and my clothes from before the accident. Everything else went to pay for the hospital bills until I was too dirt poor to afford to breathe.”

  “I’m glad you got out of there.” It must mean Cassandra wasn’t necessary anymore. The thought filled me with more joy than it warranted.

  I couldn’t stand how she’d seen me at my most vulnerable. Who was I kidding? Every bone in my body wished for a do-over. Or a Men in Black kind of device to erase her memory of the event. I also wanted to grab her by those annoying pink strands of hair and beat her head into the wall for asking Finn on a date.

  “Are you cold?”

  Finn’s voice reached me from the entryway. Warm, round. Familiar.

  “A little.” I hugged myself tighter around the midsection.

  “Here, I can help you.”

  Finn took his time walking forward, his gait stiff. Then he slipped his arms around me. I wanted to remain impassive. It was a hug. A hug with a purpose. Instead, the contact drew a shudder from me.

  “I need a jacket,” I corrected. “I know what you’re trying to do.” I wriggled free and Finn let me. A power move.

  “Ros, you’re wearing a jacket.” He took pleasure in telling me.

  “Stop what you’re doing.”

  “Tell me what I’m doing.”

  “You know damn well,” I growled.

  There was the smirk I loved. “I’d rather you tell me.”

  “If you think you can seduce me in my own house, then you are delusional.”

  The deep bass of his voice reverberated through my bones. “Seduce you?” He had the grace to look surprised when we both know he didn’t mean it. “I’m not trying to seduce you.”

  I gestured toward the empty three inches of space in front of me. “Then what do you call this?”

  “You being cold and me trying to be helpful,” he said. “Seems no one appreciates chivalry anymore.”

  “You’re trying to be cute.”

  Finn reached for me and pulled me against him, bending to nip the side of my neck. The slip of his tongue sent a wave of blistering heat straight to my core. “I can’t help it. I’m a natural.”

  In an odd dichotomy, my stomach clenched while the muscles in my thighs relaxed.

  “You want more, don’t you?” He took a step closer, halting a breath from my lips. “You want something else.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I murmured.

  “Ros…”

  “What?”

  “Stop with the talking.”

  Then he was kissing me, his lips pressed tight, tasting. Teasing. I’d hardly had the chance to register the contact when he drew back.

  “Tell me you haven’t thought about this,” he drawled, each syllable like molten honey seeping through my pores.

  Yeah, right. It was the tiniest peck of contact but might have been a natural disaster for the way my head reeled. Eventually, a solid comeback formed in the morass. “I’ve had better kisses from my granny.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow gamely. “You kiss your grandmother on the mouth?”

  “I—”

  Swearing under his breath, he kissed me again. Harder this time. A shock of electricity zapped from my head to my toes and lit everything in between like flipping on a circuit breaker. Finn hauled me up to grab the back of my shirt with his hands, keep me in place while his mouth plundered.

  The rigid set of my spine relaxed into his touch until I was pliant and begging. Instead of pushing him away, the smart choice, I tugged him closer. I clutched his shoulders and held on tight.

  Finn groaned deep in his throat. I slicked my tongue along the seam of his lips until he opened for me, plunging my tongue inside the moment I felt any hesitation from my course.

  My stomach joined the circus, adding aerial acrobatics, to be exact. There were also roaring lions. Stampeding elephants. Horns and lights and chaos. Blood pounded in my ears until I heard nothing but the beat of my own heart. I’d never known a kiss to turn me so inside out.

  Our tongues twined and Finn took it as encouragement. He deepened the kiss until his movements were wild and urgent. Pelvis to pelvis, he ground against me with thrusts that had every womanly portion of my anatomy straining to be free.

  It was reckless. Thrilling.

  Hands slid lower to clasp my thighs. Finn tore his mouth free and I was pleased to see his chest heaving. We fit well together. I wondered if we always had and I’d never noticed. The realization had little warning bells sounding in a dim, distant part of my brain.

  “You have no fucking clue how tempting you are.” He nipped my earlobe, and goose bumps burst to life down the right side of my body.

  “You must have me confused with someone else,” I managed to groan.

  “Only you, Ros.”

  “River,” I demanded. “Call me River when we’re alone.”

  “I’ll call you whatever you like if you let me have you tonight.”

  No! Yes.

  “Well?”

  A frisson of sensation echoed the trail of kisses he placed along my neck. It would be his first time since the accident, I was sure. And the line…it could have used work. Judging by its seasoned cadence, it was a line he must have used on every woman he’d ever met. I didn’t care. Head swimming, knees wobbling, I nodded.

  Finn looped my arms
around his neck, locking me into an embrace with no hope of escape. The longer he held me, the more I burned. The thousand words I had to say turned to dust in my throat. My hunger for him should have surprised me. Later I would realize that the overwhelming need for him left little room for doubts to develop. But that would come later. Not then, at least. No doubts at all.

  “Ros, I gotta say, I like you like this,” he murmured.

  “Like what?”

  “Soft, pliant. Putty in my hands.”

  His sudden piercing gaze lanced through me and sent a bolt of heat straight down my spine. “You think a little kissing is going to undo me?” I dipped my chin, closing my eyes.

  His fingertips caught me and raised my head until I had no choice but to stare. I saw the echo of my hunger there. A repressed beast finally tasting freedom from the chain.

  “River…”

  Now he’d done it. He’d used my name. The way he said it brought images to mind, flashes of longing and desire. I trembled, and I knew he felt it, his hands dropping to flitter against my hips.

  I peered at him through half-closed lashes, seconds ticking by as he closed the space between us. He pressed his wicked grin to my lips.

  My heart hammered, nerves fluttered, breath quickened. Time became irrelevant, dragging on, yet it happened in the blink of an eye. He didn’t need to speak. Finn reached down to hook his fingers into the waistband of my skirt. His mouth branded me.

  I inhaled to absorb the scent of him, earthy and salty and masculine. Finn broke the kiss to nuzzle my neck and chase the chills away with his heat.

  “Don’t think,” he admonished on an exhale.

  His fingers tangled in my hair and he brought me down for a second scorching kiss. My mind blanked and I had no choice. I had to obey. I pressed into him and opened my mouth, our tongues stroking. I ached to tear his clothes off and send the pieces flying.

  “Get these off.” He was demanding, ripping my shirt away and exposing my red-lace bra. “You’re wearing a new one,” he said, sounding like he spoke through gravel. “Thank God the other one broke. This is heavenly.”

  His hungry gaze traveled across my torso and up to my face. I flushed at the look. The raw and blatant longing there, the hint of a lusty smile drawing the corners of his mouth up.