Heartbreaker

by Melody Grace

  Casual. Friends. Simple.

  It’s not like this morning, when I didn’t see him coming. Now that I’ve had a chance to process it all, I should be fine. We’ll have a beer, some easy conversation, and go our separate ways. Right?

  I follow him across the room. Finn leads me to a booth in the corner, set away from the crowd. Romantic. I search out Delilah, and frantically beckon her over, but she just gives me a big thumbs up and turns back to her friends.

  I’m on my own.

  “The usual?” Finn asks, gesturing to the bar. For a moment, I’m tempted to order something new, something completely different to show how much I’ve changed since he’s been gone. But the truth is, I’ve been craving those chili fries all afternoon. I nod, and he answers with a smile. “Be right back.”

  I slide into the booth, and in no time at all Finn is sitting opposite me again, lounging casual against the cracked leather booth. “I’ve missed this place. Every other bar in LA tries so hard to be like this, but it’s just not the same.”

  “No sticky stains on the floor and gum under the tables?” I ask lightly.

  “Exactly.” He grins. “Plus, Dixie’s one of a kind.” He reaches up to push back his hair. It falls almost past his shoulders now, and I’m struck with a sudden urge to reach out and touch it. I grip my beer and take a long gulp. Down, girl.

  “Is that where you’re living now?” I ask.

  “LA? Off and on. I have a place there, but I barely ever see it. The tour has been pretty much non-stop.” Finn exhales a long breath. “It started out just a few dates in Europe, back when the record was first released. But then the single hit, so they kept adding new dates. The States, and South America, back to Europe again…they wanted to keep going. But I had to tell my manager, one more show and I was going to drop dead right there on stage.”

  “Still, that must have been amazing,” I tell him, envy creeping into my voice. “Seeing the world.”

  Finn gives me a rueful smile. “You’d think, but most of it’s just hustling to get to the next show. When you do get a day off, all you want to do is sleep.”

  “Aww.” I can’t help teasing. “Poor little rock star.”

  Finn snorts, then wipes beer from his face. It’s such a familiar gesture that I find myself relaxing. When the waitress swings by with two steaming baskets of chili cheese fries, I groan. “Oh my God, I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” I devour it, not coming up for air until half my basket is gone. When I look up, Finn is watching me, amusement on his handsome face. I pause. “What? Do I have sauce all over my face?”

  He shakes his head. “No, you’re good.”

  I remind myself to eat like a person, rather than one of the dogs at the shelter. “So, all the travel aside, there must be some perks to the rock star lifestyle. C’mon,” I prompt him. “No VIP benefits at all?”

  Finn smiles. “OK, so it’s not all bad. I love the music part, getting to play my songs and perform in front of those crowds. When they all sing along, and it hits me that they know every word of my words…” he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s pretty awesome.”

  I know how that feels, being up on stage in the spotlight, feeling all eyes on me. I used to love it, losing myself in a role until I’d surface from the performance and find the audience hanging off my every word. I feel a rush of pride for him. He’s come a long way since we were sitting on that riverbank together. Even though I can’t forget the pain he caused, I can’t help but feel proud of everything he’s achieved. “Your dad must have been happy,” I say quietly. “I was really sorry when he passed.”

  Finn’s face tenses. He gives an abrupt kind of shrug. “Yeah, well, it happens.”

  I realize I’ve stepped over some kind of line. Finn never came back for the funeral, but by then his career was sky-rocketing and I figured that maybe he had other commitments he just couldn’t break. Now, I wonder if he gave it a miss for another reason.

  “But back to your new superstar lifestyle.” I change the subject quickly and give him a playful grin. “I heard you caused a riot in London.”

  Finn relaxes again. “No comment.”

  “Come on,” I urge, and he laughs.

  “That was just my PR company blowing it all out of proportion. The truth is, some girls thought I was that guy from the boy band, started screaming, and soon I’m fighting my way through a hundred horny schoolgirls. Have you ever seen them swarm?” he adds, grimacing. “I swear, the ones who got up close were sorely disappointed.”

  “Unlike your fans here.” I nod over to the bar, where a trio of coeds are watching. He turns, and they all blush and turn away, whispering hysterically to each.

  Finn slouches lower, hiding in the booth.

  “Are you blushing?” I laugh. He looks even more uncomfortable.

  “Tell me they’re not coming over.”

  I peek back. “No, but they’ve got their phones out, so expect your photo all over Facebook in an hour.”

  He groans. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that they’re into the music. But this stuff, getting followed around and asked for my autograph?” He shakes his head. “I wish it wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “It’s a devil’s bargain, for sure.” I laugh, surprised by his discomfort. He always seemed so relaxed being the object of everyone’s affection back when I knew him before, but maybe there’s a difference between the sophomore class of our high school panting over you, and thousands of eager fangirls around the world.

  Finn finishes his beer, and gets up. “Another?”

  I shake my head. “I’m good.”

  He doesn’t go to the bar, but heads across the room to the old jukebox instead. He taps a few buttons, and returns to our table just as a familiar song begins to play. ‘Alone with You’ by Jake Owen.

  Memories floor me, so vivid I can almost taste the sea salt on his skin. “You remember,” I breathe.

  Finn’s smile is almost sad in the dim light. “How could I forget?”

  It was the last day of winter break, before school began. We drove out of town, all the way to Beachwood Bay, and this song followed us all day long. No matter what station we changed to on the radio, it was there. It was playing in the crab shack where we stopped for lunch, and at the gas station on the way. We spent the whole afternoon on the cold, winter sand, bundled up in jackets and scarves, kissing and talking under the pale sun. There was something bittersweet about that day. The whole vacation we’d been in our own private world, but tomorrow, we’d have to get back to reality again. But for those long, sweet hours, it felt like anything was possible, lazily kissing in the hollow of the dunes, watched over by the gulls as our hands, and mouths, and tongues explored each other’s body, fevered under the chilled breeze. And later, on our way home: detouring into the dark of the woods, this familiar anthem playing over again as we took all the liberties we couldn’t out in the light of day. Mouths searching; the hot press of his weight on me. The line I’d never crossed before.

  I swallow, snapping back to the dim, noisy bar and Finn’s watchful gaze. My heart is pounding, skin as flushed as that afternoon on the beach. “I have to…” I stammer, my old tongue-tiedness returning as I struggle to push the emotion aside. “Bathroom,” I finally manage, before bolting out of the booth and down the back hallway to the sanctuary of the dark, chipped stall.

  I catch my breath, head spinning with memories. It feels like I’m right back there, in that car, my body craving him with the same wild hunger. God, I’d forgotten how it felt. The way he looked at me, the way his touch could make me forget my own name. I’d never felt something so wild and intoxicating, a rush that blotted out all reason and consequence, and just made me demand more, closer, now.

  I learned the hard way that a feeling like that is hard to find.

  I splash cold water on my face, angry that my body is betraying me all over again. It’s one thing to be reckless and hormonal when you’re sixteen and it’s the first time a boy has ever touched
you, but now?

  You’re better than this, I tell myself sternly. Even though I know, deep down, that it’s a lie.

  This was a mistake. I thought one drink would be OK, but it’s already too much. Now I’m reliving all the burning, sensual memories, and dealing with the knowledge that none of it made a difference to him. For all those hot, sleepless nights we spent tangled up in each other, it didn’t stop him from leaving without goodbye. It didn’t save me from the heartbreak that followed.

  I know better now. I know enough not to let it go so far.

  I finally leave the safety of the bathroom. To my relief, Finn isn’t alone at our table; a group of guys has stopped by to say hello. I use the chance to slip through the crowd and escape back out onto the street. It’s late now, and the ocean wind whips around me, a welcome relief on my hot skin.

  I hug my arms around myself, twenty steps down the street before I hear footsteps behind me, and Finn’s voice. “You forgot your purse.”

  I turn. He’s holding out my bag. “Thanks.” I snatch it from him and back away. “It’s late, so I’m heading home.”

  “You’re walking?” He frowns.

  “It’s not far.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, thanks, I’m fine.” I insist, and start walking away from him again. But Finn falls into step beside me. “Really,” I sigh. “This is Oak Harbor, what do you think’s going to happen to me?”

  “Nothing, because I’m walking you home.” Finn’s voice is stubborn, and I know I’m on the losing end of this battle, so I don’t argue again. I just keep walking, trying to corral the old emotions churning through me.

  Why did he have to come back? Why did he have to remind me of everything I used to feel, all those things I’ve told myself were just a dream?

  We walk in silence. Cars pass us by, the headlights flooding the dark street, but neither of us speaks. I wordlessly turn down the road towards the house, and Finn stays alongside me.

  The distance between us makes me ache. This is the one man I knew better than anyone in the world. I know his every last secret, all his hopes and dreams, but now I can’t even find a single thing to say. It’s been too much time, too much hurt. But still I feel it, those synapses firing just from his nearness and the faint drift of his aftershave on the chilled night breeze. I have to stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for his hand, and twisting my fingers through his the way I always used to do.

  It’s just muscle memory, I tell myself. Old habits die hard.

  I can see the faint porch light of my place up ahead when Finn clears his throat. “Listen, Eva, I wanted to say.” He stops there on the dark road, with nothing but the moon to illuminate the shadowed planes of his face. Finn looks reluctant, resigned. “About what happened, when I left—’

  “Don’t.” I cut him off before he can try to justify what he did. My pride is all I’ve got now, and I can’t bear for him to know how thoroughly he broke my heart. “You don’t need to explain. Ancient history,” I add, with a forced little laugh. “It’s all over now. Thanks for walking me, but I’ve got it from here.”

  I turn to go, but then his hand is on my arm, pulling me back, pressing me hard against a wall of solid muscle.

  “Is that what you really think?” Finn demands, searching my face, just inches between us. There’s something raw in his voice, something wounded and real.

  “I…” I stop, caught in the intensity of his gaze. The feel of his body, the hot whisper of his breath on my skin, it’s overwhelming. And oh, those lips, so close… A hundred volts of electricity race through my numb, tired veins, short-circuiting my brain until I can’t think, can’t breathe. I can only feel him. All of him.

  I fight for air, my blood pounding in my ears. “Finn…” I whisper, pleading, but for what, I don’t know. And then his lips claim mine in an urgent, fevered kiss, and I realize what I’ve been waiting for since the moment he walked through those doors.

  This. Right here.

  Finn kisses me hard, yanking me closer and circling me with those taut, chiseled arms. His mouth is hot against mine, merciless and wild. He eases my lips apart, exploring the wet, hot depths as his tongue slides deeper, demanding. I buckle against him, sensation flooding through me. It’s lightning to dry wood, the sharp spark that roars to wildfire in an instant, the heat surging through my entire body.

  And God, I can’t get enough.

  My hands are in his hair. My body presses close against him, like I could mold myself to his form. The years melt away, obliterated by the force of our passion, so familiar but still so new. Every touch, every taste feels like a revelation.

  My Finn. Back again.

  He makes a low groan, sliding his hands lower, possessive, to cup my ass and bring me hard against him. Time is lost, gone forever as his lips take possession of me completely, and I match him kiss for kiss. Desire rages to life again, so sharp and craving. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking for the past five years, and only just come back to life. The world bursts from black and white to glorious, vivid technicolor.

  Finn drags his mouth from mine, and slowly trails a path of sinful kisses along my jawline. I shiver. I’m melted, boneless, lost to the dark whisper of the cypress trees overhead and the feel of his lips, so sweet on my tender skin.

  He reaches my ear, and nibbles my lobe. I let out a breathy sigh that turns to a moan as his palm skims across my breast.

  “Look at me,” he whispers, in a low husky voice that sends molten honey pooling between my thighs. “Look at me, baby.” He tilts my chin up, so I have no choice but to stare into those stormy eyes, the face I’ve imagined so many nights in scenes just like this. He traces my lips with his thumb, and I shudder at the friction. Light-headed, dizzy with desire, I part my lips, ready for another kiss.

  Finn’s lips curl in a victorious smile. “Ancient history, huh?” he teases, stepping back. I blink, still reeling as cold air rushes to fill the space his warm body has left behind.

  Wait, what?

  Finn chuckles, and the smirk on his face snaps me back to reality.

  This is a game to him.

  My heart is racing, and I want him so bad, but I manage to wrestle my hormones under control.

  He thinks he’s in control, but I can feel how much he wants me. Two can play that game.

  I give him my best swooning look. Which, to be fair, doesn’t take a whole lot of acting. Then I lean in, kiss a path along his jawline, all the way to that sensitive spot by his earlobe, the one that always drove him crazy.

  Right on cue, Finn tenses against me.

  “You know, you could come in…” I whisper softly in his ear. “Or…”

  “Or what?” Finn’s hands go around my waist, but I duck away from him.

  “Or you could take a cold shower.” I smile, and step back. “Sweet dreams!”

  I turn and saunter up to the house. I hear a disbelieving silence behind me, then Finn laughs.

  “Sweet dreams to you too, baby.”

  Five.

  I barely get a wink of sleep. For hours, all I can do is replay that kiss, every heart-stopping, soul-shaking, panty-twisting moment, until I’m tangled up in my sheets, so turned on and frustrated I could scream.

  Did he plan this? To stroll back into my life and turn it upside down? But why, after all this time? He couldn’t know what he did to me last time around, how breaking my heart sent my whole world off-kilter, like losing your balance so badly every moment has you grasping for solid ground. I went down the rabbit hole without him – chasing anything that wiped my pain away until I almost lost myself entirely.

  Now he’s back, a part of me is scared I’ll do it all over again.

  Is he just toying with me for kicks, to prove he’s still got a hold over me? But why go through all this trouble to get under my skin when he has women lined up to occupy his time? He could walk into any bar in the country – the world! – and have a girl fall at his feet. Even before his rock sta
r days, Finn never wanted for female attention. Those soulful eyes and teasing grin made sure of that. So why, out of all the dive bars in all the world, did he have to walk into mine?

  The questions circle in my head until my poor, tired brain finally gives up the fight and falls into a restless sleep. I wake in the morning to pale light streaming through the drapes and a beautiful spring day outside my window. But inside, I’m still exhausted and confused.

  And all I want is Finn, right here, tangling these sheets with me and pressing me into the mattress with every hard inch of his--

  No, I tell myself sternly, leaping out of bed and forcing myself into the shower. Whatever games Finn is playing, I don’t have to join in. Just because he looks like a depraved angel and kisses like a god, I don’t have to turn into a simpering sixteen year old the minute he shows his face again.

  Kissing isn’t the only thing he knows how to do…

  I linger in the shower, letting my wandering hands soothe the ache of lust as I replay that kiss just one more time. The feel of his body, his hands sliding so possessive and right. I trace the path he touched, and then further still, delving deeper between my thighs until my body shudders with release, his face the only thing on my mind.

  I finally shut off the water and dry myself, already guilty that I let him back into my mind. Maybe my friends have a point. If I’d been dating more, clearly I wouldn’t have all this pent up sexual energy ready to explode the first time anyone strikes a match.

  Not just anyone. Finn.

  But then, he always did have this hold on me – awakening a side to me I’d never known before. And that first night… I flush to even think of it now. How fast I tumbled into his arms, and how it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  It was New Year’s Eve of junior year, and I’d pretty much given up hope that he saw me as anything but a friend. All autumn, I’d been falling for him, counting down the minutes between our hallways conversations, or those precious moments when he drove me home. But every time we were together, he was nothing but a gentleman. He’d drop me off with a smile and a ‘see you around’. Meanwhile, I’d glimpse him sneaking out of school with senior girls, hear the murmurs of gossip about his latest hook-ups.