by Liz Meldon
“Does that mean you’re accepting?”
“Yes, it certainly does.”
“Splendid!”
They chatted about a few minor details; the offer would be made official when she came down to cross her Ts and dot her Is. After a few more minutes of her thanking him and Hans expressing his excitement for her to start, and both engaging in the who says goodbye first game again, Skye hung up and flopped down on the couch. Oz gave a sleepy meow in protest when the cushion bounced, and she reached over to ruffle his fur. Unimpressed, the cat got up, stretched, and sauntered down to the armrest to continue his late afternoon snoozefest uninterrupted.
As she took a few contemplative moments to herself to process what had just happened, an enormous smile crossed her lips. Apparently her life didn’t have to be consumed by boy drama and stress. She could, on her own merit, land a job in a shitty economy. With a steady paycheck coming in, she might even be able to stop taking an allowance from Cole…
And possibly end their sugar daddy/baby relationship altogether.
Just like that, the smile was gone, and her stomachache, the one that had been tailing her ever since she left Cole’s the other week, sidled back into place. Once again, they hadn’t spoken much since it happened. Skye had wanted the time to think, unencumbered by her heart’s desire to be close to Cole no matter what, and she had let his phone calls go unanswered. Of course, every voicemail he left was listened to, scrutinized, and relayed in cryptic summary to her friend Brynn.
The pair had met in college, both at least six years older than everyone else in their classes, and had been friends ever since. Brynn had started working at a coffee shop up the street while she hunted for museum work, and had been in New York visiting family since graduation. Her recent return meant Skye could rant about her “boyfriend,” though she had to be careful about how far she went and selective in the details offered. Being in a secret sugar daddy relationship with a contract kind of put a damper on girl talk, but Skye made do with what she had.
Unfortunately, the meat of the issue was that Cole couldn’t communicate with her. He wouldn’t confirm or deny any feelings for her, despite Skye giving him the opportunity. Brynn thought they were already dating, so Skye had been forced to play up the communication struggles they’d had lately instead.
All things considered, Skye was almost equally at fault. Sure, she had told him she wanted more, but she could have elaborated. She could have specified. She could have just spilled her guts and told him she had feelings for him. But she hadn’t. And he hadn’t said anything either. So, there they were, a week later and awkward.
A sharp knock at the door sent her shuffling across the living room. Through the peephole she saw yet another bouquet of chocolate roses, but this time no Finn. She accepted them with a smile, offering the delivery guy a taste—which he turned down—before locking herself in and falling back against the door.
And then there was Finn.
Finn, who hadn’t stopped calling and texting her. Finn, who greeted her each morning with a cute message. Finn, who couldn’t seem to stop talking about how interested he was in her. Finn, who had stolen a little piece of her heart—over the freakin’ phone.
Ugh. She dug the card out of the bouquet, her smile returning as she read it.
You still owe me lunch, you minx.
Hope this is a suitable substitute. Don’t eat it all at once.
Or do. Who am I to judge?
xx Finn
“Fuck me,” she muttered before chomping off a rose head, whole hog, and chewing a mouthful of delicious, perfectly tempered chocolate. Seconds later, her phone buzzed from where she had left it on the coffee table. Cole. Again. She looked down at the bouquet. She looked back at her phone.
Not ready to address either, she ignored the call, set the bouquet in the fridge, and opted for TV and Oz cuddles instead. Somehow, it had felt like the universe was setting her up to choose between Cole and Finn, and Skye just couldn’t do that. Not right now, anyway. It was hardly an even playing field—for either of them. She had known Cole longer. She adored him. They had an established emotional connection, an easy friendship. Being with him had just felt right. But none of that negated the fact that they were currently in an official stalemate.
Finn made her heart happy. He was upfront about his romantic interest in her. He knew the details of her sugar daddy relationship with Cole and still wanted to pursue her. Intimacy with Finn had also felt right, in its own way. But he wasn’t a safe bet. Not yet. She just didn’t know him well enough. Internet sleuthing listed him as a playboy, but most of those articles were at least a few years old. Could she take a chance on puppy love with a guy as smooth as Finn?
She zoned out, staring at the TV screen, absently gnawing her lower lip—feeling like the worst person ever. How could she even entertain the idea of Finn, the magnificent creature that he was, when she felt such strong, deep-seated feelings for Cole?
Were those feelings even real if she was so easily taken with Finn?
Groaning, Skye snatched her remote and switched to a reality show, hoping it might cheer her up. It was always nice to see that there were bigger screw-ups out there in the romance department than Skye Eloise Summers.
Mercifully, reality TV proved to be just what she needed. A half hour blitzed by with only a few panicky thoughts, and when she finally grabbed her phone, ready to check the voicemail she knew Cole had left, she found a text from Brynn instead.
Work was dead so I got sent home early. Drinks tonight? Karen and Jazz are in town.
Skye brightened at the thought. Karen and Jazz were two college pals who had fled the Coral Bay coop after graduation. It’d be nice to see them—but it would be even nicer to have a distraction from all her boy drama, which had totally eclipsed her job-offer-high. So, she fired a quick message back, thumbs flying over her screen.
Was just offered gainful employment. Count me in!
Finn Rai needed to find more entertaining dinner companions in Coral Bay. Three hours and a five-course meal at a brilliant penthouse restaurant downtown had resulted in him wanting to either fall asleep or blow his brains out at least twice, respectively. It was the usual Coral Bay crowd, which made matters worse; he should enjoy his usual crowd if he kept hanging around them. However, sometimes it felt like they only did all this—dinners, drinks, dancing, galas, gallery openings, fashion shows, charity auctions—because they were the local elite. Like they had to see each other once a week because their tax bracket demanded it.
Maybe he needed to host another sex party. Finn frowned. No. Even those had grown dull with this crowd, and there was only one woman these days he was interested in stripping down and worshipping—and she didn’t technically run with the local elite. Not in any official capacity, anyway.
He should have forced Cole to come tonight. At least he could have endured the torture of dry conversation and predictable drunken antics with a friend, a friend who was so seldom on the same continent as Finn that it was a fucking crime. Alas, the bastard had to work. As usual. It was his standard excuse, the one that got him out of everything scot-free. He buried himself in it, his excuse. On purpose, too, though Finn could never understand for the life of him why. Cole had never been in it for the money, not really.
Whatever the reason, Cole had backed out at the last minute. Finn had sat through veritable hell all by his lonesome—again—and barely managed to escape with his patience intact. But that was behind him. The night ahead. He shifted gears and his sleek little grey corvette whizzed around the taxi slowing in front of a nightclub, mindful to keep an eye out for inebriated tourists.
His eyes widened at a familiar figure.
Apparently, he needed to keep an eye out for redheaded minxes too.
Finn did a double take when he swore he spotted a Miss Skye Summers strolling away from the club all by her lonesome. Shoes in hand, she wore a short green dress so sinfully tight it was probably a hazard for him to keep driving. He
slowed instantly, pissing off the driver behind him—who then raced around, flipping Finn off as he went. The chocolate prince paid him no mind, waving absently as he stared down the gorgeous, teetering sidewalk creature, trying to determine if she was, in fact, the very woman who had captured and held his interest longer than any woman had.
He’d spent much of his adult years philandering around, never staying in one bed long enough for it to get cold. But there was something about her. A flicker of light. A spark that ignited something inside him, the fire spreading, swallowing him whole for the first time in, well, ever.
Of course, it was too soon for him to croon love songs and hold a boom box up outside her window, but he was damn interested. And it wasn’t because she kept fending off his advances, either. He wasn’t a man who desired something more when it was denied to him, although that had been part of the fun these last few weeks.
Finn couldn’t put his finger on it. He grappled with it daily, his curious infatuation with Skye, but at this point he had just decided to go with it and see where the interest would take him. Something in the way she made his heart happy told him the chase would be worth it in the end.
And, for once, that didn’t scare him.
Another careful study of that lithe body, firm and toned, thighs exposed where her dress cut off just under her perfect backside, confirmed his suspicions. This was, in fact, Miss Summers, and she appeared to be a little drunk. What kind of man would he be if he let her walk anywhere by herself?
A fool. That’s what he’d be.
Grinning, Finn zipped into the opening between two parked cars a few spots ahead of her, then rolled down the window, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see through the dark tint.
“And what’s this?” he called out when she stumbled by, jumping nearly a foot in the air at the sound of his voice. “Doth the lady require transportation?”
Skye stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed, then cautiously approached. Her features brightened with recognition, and Finn patted the passenger seat.
“Get in, you ridiculous creature,” he ordered. “I can’t stand the thought of what the sidewalk must be doing to those perfect little feet of yours.”
“What, are you stalking me now?” she asked, the purr of her voice doing terribly wonderful things to his cock. Finn cleared his throat and shifted in place, only mildly annoyed that he turned into a teenager who’d never seen a pair of tits before whenever he was around her.
“Hardly. On my way home from dinner,” he told her. “Thought I’d do something charitable. Get in.”
She pursed her pink lips into a sumptuous pout, then clambered in with a little less grace than she perhaps intended. Her cheeks flushed as she drew the seatbelt across her body, and Finn’s gaze lingered on the way it cut between her breasts. Memories of his tongue sweeping between those two perfect mounds… Oh, this wasn’t helping. He sent his dark stare up to her face instead, noting the constellation of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Minimal makeup. A little sweaty, honestly. As if reading his mind, she swept her long red locks up into a messy bun on the top of her head, snagging a hair elastic off her wrist.
“Nice car,” she noted as she took the two-seater in.
“It does its job.”
“One of many, I’m sure.” She shot him a saucy little smirk, one he wanted to kiss right off her face. However, Finn knew he had been forward enough. He didn’t want to send her running by being too aggressive with his advances, even if Skye seemed to enjoy them. So, he flicked on his turning signal and checked that the way was clear.
“Where to, my lady?” he asked as he pulled out. “Mi chariot es su chariot.”
“Home,” she said with a long, tired sigh. In his peripheral view, he caught her rubbing her eyes, smearing what little makeup she had there.
“Did you really intend to walk the whole way?” She lived closer to the center of town. The club was in the north, and while not a terribly long way—Coral Bay’s core was quite walkable—Finn couldn’t imagine it’d be an enjoyable stroll with no shoes on. Although he would have liked to see her wearing those heels. Black. Deliciously high. They probably made her long legs and pert bottom look spectacular.
“I gave the last of my cash to my friends,” she admitted with a shrug. “Brynn… My friend threw up in the bathroom, so the bouncers kicked her out, which meant our night was over too. My other friends are taking her home and there was no room in the cab. Weather’s nice. Thought I’d walk.”
Finn chuckled. “Well, aren’t you a giver.”
“I aim to please.”
“I can attest that you succeed.”
He heard the leather seat groan as she shifted onto her side, facing him. Finn, to his credit, kept his eyes on the road. While it wasn’t exactly busy this time of night, summers in Coral Bay were known for tourists who thought themselves untouchable. Finn had no interest in hitting some idiot who figured nothing mattered because they were on vacation.
He would have preferred to be staring elsewhere, of course. The exposed soft skin of her thighs. The sweet neckline of her dress, barely concealing a perfect pair beneath. Her eyes… Hazel. Beautiful. The kind he could stare into all night if she let him.
“Hey,” she said softly, “look, I’m sorry I haven’t followed up on the lunch plans yet.”
“It’s fine.” And it really was. Finn could be patient if it meant getting precisely what he wanted. “I’m ready when you are.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but—”
“It’s complicated?” he offered. Yeah, he’d heard that one before. If he were a smarter man, he would wash his hands of complicated, but here he was, riding out the storm. Skye sighed, fidgeting with the heels of her shoes. He glanced at her quickly, and the silence extended until they reached a light that had just turned red, even though there was no one else at the intersection.
“I had sex with Cole last week,” she admitted quietly. Finn ceased drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, the news like a punch to the gut.
Cole had been at the back of his mind ever since he had realized, and confirmed, that Skye was the woman his friend supported. He had always spoken fondly of her, but when Finn pressed for more details, slyly hinting around to find out if it was a love connection, Cole shut down. Buried himself in work. Changed the subject. For a while, Finn had assumed that was answer enough. Maybe there were genuine feelings, or maybe his friend was just embarrassed to have a fake girlfriend on his payroll.
When he had asked Skye if she loved Cole, he’d needed to know for certain he wasn’t stepping on any toes. He could never do that to Cole, a man who had entered his life almost a decade ago as a pet project. Finn had been in the midst of his transition away from playboy, party boy, and tabloid darling for the sake of his family’s reputation. He had needed a man like Cole, so obsessively dedicated to his work, to keep him on track with his own career aspirations. In turn, Finn had seen a bit of himself in the young, up-and-coming millionaire, new to the scene and noticeably struggling. Under Finn’s guidance, he had worked with Cole, an uncouth former programmer thrust into a social circle he wasn’t ready for, on social etiquette and style.
Beyond that, Finn had wanted to keep Cole from making the same mistakes he had when he was a twenty-year-old blessed with an ungodly amount of money to his name.
And here they were, years later, closer than ever despite the physical distance these last few years—and now, apparently, sharing a woman. It wasn’t the first time, though before, the women had always been one-night stands. Something to do on the rare occasion they were both feeling adventurous in a new city. Just a bit of fun, really. With Skye, things were different. She was fun, but she wasn’t for fun.
The light changed to green, but the conversation didn’t resume. Skye repositioned herself to face forward again, her head bowed and her hands still. The silence carried on until they reached her apartment, and Finn parked at the end of the street. Even with the tinted windows,
he thought she might want some privacy from the doorman.
“When I asked if there was anything going on between you, I really meant what I said,” he told her, cutting the engine and unfastening his seatbelt. “I’m not a man who fucks my friend’s girl. I’m just not, Skye.”
“I know,” she said, her voice quivering in the sort of way one does before they start crying. Finn closed his eyes for a moment. It hadn’t been his intention to make her cry, but he needed to be clear on this.
“Skye—”
“And I wasn’t trying to lead you on or trick you,” she insisted with a sniffle. When her gaze met his, it watered. “Really, I just liked talking to you. I kind of… I’m feeling things I know I shouldn’t, because I really do care for Cole, and I…” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, then stared down at her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Fuck.
“What does Cole have to say about all this?” was the best Finn could do on the spot. There were a thousand other things he would have rather said instead. That he had enjoyed speaking with her too. That she was the first thing he thought of when he woke up in the mornings, and that she was quickly becoming the last to cross his mind before he fell asleep. But that wouldn’t help the situation. Not now, anyway.
“I don’t know,” she muttered miserably. “I tried to give him a chance to say something, but he didn’t. It’s like he wants things to stay the same. Maybe… Maybe pretend it hadn’t happened at all.”
“Rather typical of him, I’m afraid.” Finn smoothed a hand over his hair, sighing. “He’s never been very adept at expressing himself.”
“Yeah, that isn’t news to me.” She gave what sounded like a forced laugh, one that didn’t reach her eyes, and then set a hand on his arm. A pulse of energy, of gravity, raced through him, and Finn found himself leaning toward her.