by J. Saman
It just didn’t last. He stood there, staring into my eyes and I found my resolve to stay away from him soften. It didn’t just soften, it completely melted. Liquified. I wasn’t strong or firm or solid.
I hate that I like him as much as I do.
It’s only going to lead to more confusion, frustration and hurt. I know it will. I can see it coming. But I’m still sitting here, in this café, at eleven thirty on a Friday night, waiting while he goes up and gets me my hot chocolate with whipped cream.
I pivot in my chair so that I can watch him instead of playing with my phone the way everyone else does.
But I can’t seem to help it right now. He’s a conundrum. Something I don’t comprehend and I have a feeling if I pried, I wouldn’t be afforded the luxury of an interpretation. Because Finn holds everything back. Yet it only makes me want him more.
Goddamn the challenge is just as enticing as the man.
Finn glances in my direction as he finishes speaking with the lady behind the counter and when he catches my observing eye, he smiles. I can’t find it in me to return it. His smile slips as his body twists, facing me fully. He stares back–and for a moment–that’s all we do. We stare. And the longer this moment lasts, the more I accept that my heart is in trouble.
The woman behind the counter gets his attention, handing him two ceramic mugs, one topped with a healthy dose of whipped cream. Finn thanks her and saunters back over to me.
I follow the entire thing.
“One hot chocolate with whipped cream.”
He sets it down in front of me and then takes his seat. “Thank you.” I swipe my finger across the fluffy white cream and pop it in my mouth, savoring its sweetness. Finn watches that. We’re all about watching the other tonight. Like, the longer we do it, the easier it will be to figure the other out.
But I don’t think he has to try very hard with me. I’m about as transparent as it gets.
“What did you get?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter and leaning across the table to catch a glimpse inside his mug.
“Decaf cappuccino.”
“Any good?”
“The best. Want a sip?”
I nod, reaching out for his mug, our fingers brushing as he hands it to me. “You can have some of mine if you’d like. I share just as well as you do.”
“I don’t think I’ve had hot chocolate since I was eight.” He chuckles, reaching over and taking a small sip out of the side of my mug. I take a sip of his too and it is very good.
“You’re missing out, my friend. One is never too old for hot chocolate.”
He grins, taking his mug from my hands as I slide it back across the stone table to him. “I thought you already established we’re not friends.”
I laugh despite myself. “Yes, you’re right. I did. So if we’re not friends, then why did you bring me out here?”
He considers me for a moment. Takes a sip of his coffee. Wipes away an errant streak of foam and then shrugs. “Because I didn’t want you to end up in Liam’s bed tonight.”
“Jesus,” I cough, choking a little on the sip of my drink I was in the process of swallowing. I was not expecting that answer. Or his bluntness. “You’re such a jerk. Were you always like this?”
He shrugs again, but something in his eyes tells me that he wasn’t. Tells me that at one point, he was a lot more than this cold, seemingly apathetic man. That the sweet, smooth Finn is possibly the real him, just well hidden.
Or maybe that’s just my personal observations, because I’ve seen him be more. Like that time on the stoop outside the hospital after my father died. And that night he saved my life and walked me home. Definitely the time I fell and he sewed me up. Without a doubt the night he took care of me when I was drunk.
“So you don’t want me for yourself, but no one else can have me?”
“Something like that.”
I hate he just confirmed that. I was hoping for a contradiction there. I don’t know what to do with that. What to say. I should get up and walk out on him. That’s what the smart girl inside of me is saying. Run, Gia. Run as fast as you can. Because Finnigan Banner is damaged goods.
What happened to you, Finn?
“Does that bother you?”
“Yes,” I say through a sardonic laugh. “It does.”
“Which part?” he asks as he bends forward, his bright blue eyes sparkling, his hands still holding onto his mug like he’s enjoying the warmth it provides.
I shrug because I can be evasive too and I don’t think I want him to know the answer, though I’m sure he must know both parts bother me. The first part definitely more than the second. I had no intention of ending up in Liam’s bed. Honestly, he was a bit too…Liam for me. He sort of screamed, I fuck women and then blog all about it on the Internet because I’m the type of douchebag who likes to brag.
Finn grins at me in a way which says I was right. I don’t have to answer him. He already knows every inner thought I’ve ever had about him.
“If you’re from Boston, what made you come to New York,” he asks, changing the subject entirely. It makes me smile for some reason. Another battle, I realize. Another round of the fight. Finn is the strong silent type. He’s the man who watches and takes everything in and only comments when necessary.
But he talks to me. He asks me questions. He interacts.
And he does this because he can’t help himself. Even if he tries to fight it. I know all of this. I see all of this. It’s part of the reason I come back time and time again.
“Nursing school,” I tell him, crossing my legs and leaning back in my seat. His coat is still draped over my shoulders and even though it’s warm in here and I’m not the least bit cold, I keep it on. It smells like him. That’s just how pathetic I am when it comes to this man. “I came here for undergraduate and stayed. Then I went to graduate school and was offered a job. Besides, I like New York.”
“More than Boston?”
“No. They’re just different. Did you go to medical school here?”
Finn nods his head. “Yes. I went to Dartmouth for undergraduate and Columbia for medical school.”
“Like me. That’s where I went.”
“Like you.” He picks up his coffee and takes a sip, his eyes haven’t left mine the entire time since he sat back down. “Are you dating anyone?”
I shake my head. “No. Not exclusively, anyway,” I smirk. He doesn’t. In fact, his eyes grow dark and so does his expression. He hates that answer and I love that he hates it so much.
“Do you do that a lot?”
“What?”
“Date men non-exclusively?”
“God, Finn, are we really having a conversation here? I mean, just come out and ask me what you want to know. I’ll either tell you or I won’t.”
“I already asked you what I want to know.”
I huff out a breath because it’s late and I’m tired and my hot chocolate is getting cold from the pound of whipped cream they put on top and I just don’t have it in me to dance around the ring with Finn Banner anymore.
So I cross my arms and narrow my eyes and go for broke. “No. I don’t. I go on dates with men on a fairly regular basis. I’m a single woman living in New York. But most of them don’t turn into a second date and if they do, they rarely get past the fifth. Colin, that guy you saw me with that night at the bar, was the last guy I sort of dated with any consistency and that’s been over for months. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Yes. Doesn’t mean I like the answer though.”
“Which part?” I ask, throwing his own words back at him.
“All of it, Gia. All of it.” He runs a hand down his face and his cocky exterior crumbles. “I have a problem.”
“What’s that?” I glare, leaning forward over the table the same way he is. His eyes dip to my chest for a half a beat, and I wish I didn’t enjoy that as much as I do.
“I’m very attracted to
you. I think you know that already. I don’t do the best job of hiding it and every time I’m around, it just seems to come out. It’s why I’ve been avoiding you all this time.” Jesus, I cannot believe he just said that. I can practically feel my eyes widening and my jaw dropping. “But the more time I spend with you, the more I realize how much I enjoy it. That I want to do more of it. That I like you just as much as I know you like me.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Yes. It’s a big problem. Because I don’t want any other man to take you on dates. To have you, even if it’s in a sort of, non-exclusive way. The thought of it makes me fucking insane. Obviously it does otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here across from me now. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone out on the balcony and said whatever I could to get you to leave with me.”
“But?” I whisper because my voice is weak with his confession.
“But I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to be angry with me. I don’t want to fuck with your head.” His eyes close for the briefest of moments before they reopen. Blue fire. The hottest part of the flame. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admits, his finger waving back and forth between us. “I don’t want to do this. So I’m going to order you an Uber and you’re going to go home alone and I’m going to go back to avoiding you.”
I have absolutely no words.
I watch him as he takes his phone out and does in fact order me an Uber home. I watch as he slides his phone back into his pocket when he’s done. I watch as he stands up and reaches for my hand to help me up.
I watch him the entire time he walks me outside, still holding my hand with his jacket over my shoulders. And when I’m tucked safely inside the Uber he ordered and paid for, and I’m alone, I cry for him.
What happened to you, Finn?
Chapter 16
Finn
Six years ago
“Your mother hates me,” Kelly says to me, her eyes focused down on the engagement ring and wedding band which are now prominently displayed on her left hand. “She’s going to be even more pissed she didn’t get to see her only son get married.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” I reassure her, my hand reaching over to Kelly who’s sitting in the passenger seat of our car. I squeeze her hand and then rub her beautiful swollen belly. Everything about Kelly is beautiful. My ring on her finger. My baby in her belly. My last name at the end of her first name. “Besides, it’s Christmas and we’re giving her a grandchild.”
“I don’t think that matters, Finn. She told me she was too young to be a grandmother.”
I laugh, shaking my head. For a woman who had the shit repeatedly kicked out of her for her entire married life, she’s certainly come into her own since my father died. It’s like that giant filter she had clamped over her mouth while he was alive has evaporated.
“Too late now, baby. In sixteen weeks give or take, she’ll be a grandmother. At least your parents are excited.”
Kelly throws me an agitated look. She does not like her family. To be honest, I don’t believe they’re that bad. I think what Kelly really objects to is the fact that they don’t have a lot of money. White trash, is how she refers to them, which I don’t agree with. Her father is a working-class guy who’s done what he can for his family. Kelly’s mother is a bit…overbearing, but very sweet. I like them a lot actually.
Night and day from my family and I mean that in the best possible way.
“My mom wants to throw me a baby shower.”
I smile at that. Kelly doesn’t have a lot of girlfriends, and the few that she does have, haven’t offered to do that for her. “That’s great. When was she thinking?”
“I don’t know,” she huffs, folding her hands over her belly. “Maybe the end of February. A little closer to the due date.”
“Sounds–” Bang! Out of nowhere, we’re hit from behind with a loud grating crunch.
The car spins clockwise on the slippery road, my hands flying around the wheel, trying desperately to get us in control, but to no avail. My foot pressing down on the brake doesn’t do anything either, it just makes the tires screech and burn. Kelly is screaming as she stares in petrified horror at something out her window. The cement barrier we’re headed straight for.
My eyes fly over as I reach across her, trying to shield her from the impact. I can’t get to her. My seatbelt has no give to it. “Kelly!” I yell just as we slam into the barrier.
Our airbags deploy on impact. Kelly’s head bounces off the side-impact one of hers, and mine bounces off the one which comes out of the steering wheel, breaking my nose instantly with a sickening crunch. My knee slams into something with so much force that I holler out at the pain.
Blood squirts out of my nose and down my face, some of it pooling in the back of my throat, making me cough and choke. It takes me half a second to come back around and when I do, I look over at Kelly who is staring down at her hands which are covered in blood.
“Baby?” She turns to me. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes are wide and her forehead is bleeding a lot and she just stares at me, like she has no idea what just happened or if she’s okay.
“Kelly,” I command. “Talk to me.”
She blinks and nods. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Does your belly hurt? Can you feel the baby at all?” I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt and trying to move over to her. The entire passenger side of the car is crushed in, pressing against her.
“I don’t know, Finn,” she begins to sob. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, baby. Calm down.” Her eyes close and they don’t open again. “Kelly, look at me, baby. Keep your eyes open and on me. Stay awake.”
She opens her eyes and focuses on me.
Someone is knocking outside my window, they’re yelling, asking if we’re okay. I tell him we need an ambulance. He tells me they’ve already been called and are on their way.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for anything in my life.
“Kelly, I’m going to reach between your legs.”
“What?” she shrieks. “Why?”
“I’m just going to check and make sure everything is okay.”
“No, Finn. Just wait for the ambulance.”
I nod at her. She’s panicked. I’m panicked. I’ve never been this terrified before in my entire life. “Kelly, do you feel like you’re bleeding down there?”
“No. And I feel the baby, I think.”
“Does anything else hurt?”
“I’m okay, Finn.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief at that and another one when I hear sirens approaching. Ambulances and fire trucks descend on us. They’re shouting about how they can’t get Kelly’s car door open as they refuse to let her come out my side because they’re afraid of a head and spinal cord injury. So instead they use the jaws of life to get Kelly out. They won’t let me stay in the car with her either despite my yelling and fighting.
As I watch my pregnant wife being carefully extracted from our crushed car, I let the paramedic work on my nose and check out my knee. I don’t give a shit. All I care about is Kelly and our baby. I cannot stand sitting here while they’re in there and I can’t do anything to help them.
The fire department finally manages to extract Kelly from the car. She’s crying. Sobbing. Fuck, I can’t take this. My heart is beating out of my chest. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. I need to get to my family. They’re all I’ve got. Racing out of the ambulance I was sitting in, I reach her side. I take her hand and stare into her eyes as the paramedics strap her to a backboard and put a brace on her neck, before bringing her to the ambulance.
I follow her into the rig and the guy has the audacity to throw me a look. “I’m going with her,” I tell him and the look in my eyes has him keeping his mouth shut about it. Don’t even try it, that looks says.
“Turn her on her left side,” I yell at the paramedic as we race down the highway towa
rds the hospital. Kelly’s blood pressure is not good, but it improves when he does that. “She’s pregnant,” I snap at him like that’s not blatantly obvious. “When she’s on her back she’s putting pressure on her vena cava.”
He just nods at me and continues to take care of Kelly. Putting pressure on her head laceration and making sure her vitals are stable and that she’s getting enough fluids and oxygen. I want to be the one taking care of Kelly. I want to hear my baby’s heartbeat and know they’re okay in there.
But I can’t do any of that.
All I can do is hold her hand as we ride to the hospital with our shared fear swimming between us. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her even though I don’t know if it is, because the paramedics won’t check the baby. Ten minutes later they’re wheeling Kelly in. The baby’s heartbeat is ninety-eight. Not great, but at least there is one.
“Kelly, do you feel any pressure? Any contractions?” the doctor asks.
“No. I don’t think so. My back and side hurt as does my shoulder and head. But my stomach feels okay.” Kelly looks to me, like she’s asking more than telling and I nod at her. I kiss her head. I reassure her that everything she’s doing and saying is the right thing. But my hands tremble against hers and I know she can feel it.
“Good,” the doctor says with a relieved smile. “Okay, we’re going to get an ultrasound. The baby’s heartrate is a little low, but we’re going to monitor that very closely. Do you know how far along you are?”
“Twenty-four weeks today.”
The doctor nods, that relieved smile slipping. It’s obvious she wishes Kelly had said that she was farther along. I’m wishing that too.
“Finn?” Kelly sniffles, doing everything she can to hold herself together, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. I don’t know what to do. How to fix this. She looks to me when I don’t respond. “Finn?”
“I’m here, baby. It’s going to be okay.” That’s my mantra. That’s what I keep telling her, because if I tell her that enough, it will come true. It has to.