Confessions of a Carpool Captive
Page 11
I stare at him in awe.
“Alright. That’s enough. Liz is going to think I paid you to sell me to her as a catch,” Finn says with a laugh.
“Oh honey, I bet she already knows you are. Don’t you, sweetie?” Mrs. Walsh adds with a grin.
I manage a nod. I don’t want to seem overly eager, but she’s right. He sure does seem like a catch. Why in the hell is he pretending with me?”
After dinner, Finn and his father argue over who’s footing the bill. Finn wins out by promising it’s part of their Christmas present. As we walk toward the exit, there’s a large group just coming in, so we stand and wait for a path to clear.
“Mistletoe!” Mrs. Walsh says, nudging us as she points over our heads.
We glance up at the same time and sure as shit, we’re standing under a large sprig.
Finn gazes into my eyes and I feel a lump in my throat.
“Don’t be shy, my boy. Kiss the girl. It’s not like you’ve never done it before. Right?” he questions, suddenly concerned.
Finn releases him of his worry. “Right. Of course we’ve kissed before,” he states.
I want to add, only I was drunk off my ass, but I think better of it.
Finn leans in toward me and I stop breathing. Holy hell.
His lips touch mine. They’re soft and gentle. His mouth stays on mine and I close my eyes, relishing in the sober feeling of them. They’re just as I remember. I guess it wasn’t the alcohol making him seem like a good kisser after all. He steps inward and presses his lips more firmly into mine. It’s a sweet kiss, but it’s filled with depth. I don’t understand, but I also don’t want it to stop. I grab ahold of his shirt to hold him in place. He kisses me tenderly, over and over again until we hear his father clear his throat.
He pulls back and we stare at each other for a moment. Finn smiles and speaks to his dad without breaking eye contact with me. “Sorry about that. Every time I kiss her, it’s like the first time.”
“You two are so sweet! I’m so happy you found such a great girl,” Mrs. Walsh coos, squeezing me from behind.
The pathway clears and we walk toward the exit. Well, everyone else walks. I float, high on Finn.
I yawn. We’ve played five rounds of Uno and it’s almost midnight. I can’t believe how quickly the night flew by.
“I should really get you home.” Finn rises to his feet and helps me up.
“Why don’t you just spend the night, Liz. It’s so late. Finn can take you home in the morning.”
“Umm, Mom…”
“What? It’s been a month. I’m not old-fashioned. I know how people are these days. There’s nothing to be shy about. Plus, by the time you take her home and come back, it’ll be after one a.m. for sure. You’ve told me many times how awful that drive can be.”
“Not at this time of night. I’m sure the roads will be fine, Mom.”
“But Finn, we’re supposed to have some rain tonight. I’m going to be worried sick.”
I glance back and forth between Finn and his mother. She’s genuinely concerned.
“Could you give us a minute?” I ask.
“Of course,” she replies. Finn’s dad is dozing on the couch and she heads back into the kitchen. I hear the water running and a clanking sound so I assume she’s washing dishes.
Finn and I step into the hall.
He whispers, “I’m so sorry. You’ve been amazing tonight with all of this. I’ll be fine driving. Really, don’t let her force you into anything. She’s always worried about something.”
“It is late and I feel bad that you have to make two round trips. That sucks.”
He places his hand on my arm. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Unless…”
“Unless what?” I ask.
“Unless you want me to stay at your place again?” He raises his eyebrows in flirtation.
“Would that make your mom feel better?” I ask, twisting my hands and nervously glancing toward her direction in the kitchen.
“Are you serious?”
“Your mom is so sweet and she seems to like me. I feel like I’d fall a notch or two if I made you drive me home.” My eyes fall to the floor. When I glance back up at him, he’s shaking his head.
“You care that much about what she thinks?”
I nod.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Would it be weird if I stayed?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret it.
I hold my hands up to stop him from speaking as his mouth opens. “No, wait. Don’t answer that. Of course it would be weird. I mean, this isn’t real and we’re not really dating, so how would that work? I mean, I wouldn’t want to invite myself over. That would be really awkward for you and super bizarre for me.”
I start listing things on my fingers, pointing to each one. “I don’t have my toothbrush, my pajamas, or my floss. And where would I sleep? It’s crazy to even think about it. You should take me home. It was a dumb idea. I think you should tell them we’re not really a couple. They can probably tell that already. I mean, why would you be with me? You’re a painter and valedictorian, for Pete’s sake. I don’t think I ever won an award for anything, unless you count perfect attendance. I guess I did get that, but only my junior year, because my senior year I had the flu and missed a week. But anyway. Yeah. Take me home.”
He licks his lips and blinks at me a few times.
“What?” I ask.
He steps toward me and whispers in my ear, “You’re fucking adorable.”
I pull back. “What?”
“You heard me. Hey, Mom?” he calls out. “Liz is going to spend the night after all.”
“What?” I question, grasping for his arm and getting air as he walks toward the kitchen.
Mrs. Walsh rounds the corner. “Oh good. Thank you, Liz. I’ll sleep so much better knowing you’re not on the roads with crazy drivers.”
What the fuck did I just do?
Finn closes his bedroom door behind us and starts to laugh.
“You’re an asshole!” I half whisper, half shout.
“It was your idea.”
“But I thought it through and told you to take me home.”
“Yeah, but you really wanted to stay with me and who am I to refuse you?”
He starts unbuttoning his shirt and struts over to the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask, eyes wide.
“I’m getting undressed. Oh, wait. Did you want to do it?” He points to his buttons and tries to keep a straight face, failing terribly.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I really am,” he says, sitting on the bed and removing his shirt.
“Finn, for the love of God, would you stop taking your clothes off?”
“It’s going to be fine. I’ll sleep on the sofa. You take the bed. They won’t know a thing.”
“But…” I pace nervously.
He sighs. “If you want me to take you home, I will. They should be asleep soon and we can just slip out.”
“They said, ‘See you in the morning.’ Doesn’t that mean they expect to see me?”
He leans on his elbows while sitting on the bed and brushes his hands over his face before he stands and faces me. “It’s late. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
I roll my head back. “I don’t know!”
“Can I take my pants off and go to bed, or do I need to put on my shoes?”
I sigh. I think about his mom and the relief in her eyes when I said I’d stay. How can I make her worry? Plus, what if something did happen to Finn on his way home? I’d never forgive myself.
“On or off, Liz?” he asks again impatiently.
“Off,” I say with a release of air.
He starts to unbuckle his jeans and I jump forward to stop him. “I mean on. ON!”
He stops. “You want to go home?”
“No. I mean yes. Or no. I don’t know.” I throw my hands in the air and plop down on his couch.
“Really, Liz, thank you for everything tonight. You’ve gone above and beyond my expectations. And trying to make my mom happy? Well that sealed the deal. You might be my favorite person in the world.”
I half grin, half scowl.
“It’s going to be fine. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll change while you’re in the bathroom.”
“What am I going to do in there? I just used it downstairs and it’s not like I have a toothbrush or a change of clothes. This was a bad idea. Why am I such an idiot?”
“I have an extra toothbrush and you can borrow anything of mine you want.”
I gaze over at the closet. “You mean I can sleep in a suit?”
“I do have other clothes. In the chest, you’ll find t-shirts, boxers, and sweats. Pick whatever you want. Go through the drawers and take what looks comfortable. I’m going to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he leaves, I start at the top and make my way down. I find his boxer briefs and immediately slam that drawer shut. The next holds some t-shirts. I pull out the first one I see. It’s solid gray and smells like Finn. I hold it up to see if it’ll fit.
I close that drawer and open another. Socks.
I open the last drawer. Sweats. I pull out a pair from the top and something tumbles out with it. It’s a box of condoms. They scatter all over the floor.
Panicking, I fall to the ground and scoop up as many into my hands as I can, shoving them into the box. How many are in here? Who buys a box of fifty? Does he have that much sex?
Just as I’m scrambling to pick up the last one, the door opens. Jumping into a standing position, I hide the box behind my back and close the drawer with my foot.
He eyes me suspiciously as he enters.
“Liz…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“What’s going on?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips.
“What do you mean?” I tell myself to play it cool. “I was just getting some clothes, like you said.”
“What’s behind your back?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Nothing. Stop being so paranoid.”
He takes a step toward me. “I’m paranoid?”
“Finn!” I shout. He stops mid-step.
“If you have any respect for me at all, if tonight meant anything to you, please go back out into the hall for a second.”
”What the hell?” he asks as his head tilts to the side.
“Please?” I beg, shuffling my weight from one foot to the next.
He turns, shaking his head, and leaves the room.
I open the drawer and stuff the box of condoms under a different pair of sweats, quietly close it, and then saunter out. “Okay. Thank you.”
He’s leaning on the wall outside his door. He watches me until I’ve shut the bathroom door.
Resting my head against it, I laugh, relieved, and glad I managed to get out of the awkwardness of that one. I place his sweats and t-shirt on the sink, and a lone condom falls to the ground.
I stare at it for a half second and then do what anyone would do in my position. I look for a place to get rid of it. Who doesn’t have a garbage can in the bathroom? What the fuck? Am I just not seeing it? Biting my fingernail nervously, I unwrap it, tear the wrapper into tiny little pieces, place it inside a couple of sheets of toilet paper and flush it all down the toilet. I watch it go down, then close the lid. Problem solved.
There’s a toothbrush in an unopened package on the counter. I use it and change into Finn’s clothes. They’re too big for me, thank God. The sweats won’t stay up so I hold them as I make my way back to the bedroom. Finn is lying on the sofa, covered by a blanket. His feet are hanging off the end and he looks horribly uncomfortable.
He smiles as I enter. The room is dimly lit by a lone light from his bedside table.
I feel I should speak. “Thanks for the clothes and the bed.”
“Thank you for everything tonight. You were great.”
I climb into his bed and slide the sweats off. There’s no way I could sleep with them hanging off of me like that. I pull them out from under the covers and toss them on the floor. He’s facing me and his eyes widen.
“Goodnight,” I say before switching off the light.
“G’night, Lizzy.”
Time passes slowly. The light from a streetlight outside shines through a crack in the curtain and once my eyes adjust to the dark, I realize I can sort of see him from where I’m sleeping. He’s moving around a lot, trying to find a good position. I don’t know how tall he is, but he has to be about six feet. That couch looks more suited for me than him.
I giggle to myself, watching him struggle. He kinda deserves it for teasing me.
“What’s so funny?” he asks in a whisper.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Is that couch comfy? It sure seems like it from over here.”
“It’s fine.”
It’s quiet for a second. I sigh and pull the covers back from the bed. I stand and feel my way over to him. “You take the bed. The couch looks more my size.”
“No. No way. You gave me your bed, now you get mine.”
“You’ll never sleep if you stay here and neither will I because you move a lot. And loudly.”
“I will not have you sleep on the couch.”
“God, you’re stubborn!” I whisper-shout.
“Hi pot, meet kettle,” he says with a snicker.
“Fine. Struggle.” I huff my way back to his bed.
“Nice legs,” he whispers.
“Shut up. It’s dark. You can’t see shit.”
“Oh, I can see plenty. I also know you’re wearing a black thong.”
“What the…? You’re horrible. I cannot wait for this night to be over so I can stop pretending to like you.”
“You’re not pretending. You do like me.”
“Actually, right now, I hate you.”
“You could never hate me.”
“Wanna bet?”
He’s suddenly quiet and he doesn’t move. A few minutes pass and I feel bad. “Fine, I don’t hate you.”
He doesn’t speak. “Finn?” I ask in a whisper.
Did he fall asleep that quickly? He couldn’t have. Could he? I lie there for a few seconds before I pull back the covers and tiptoe over to him. This time, pulling down his t-shirt as I walk.
“Finn?” I question a bit louder.
I lean down to see if he’s breathing. He’s not. “Finn?” I almost shout, placing my hands on his chest. He grabs ahold of me and scares the shit out of me.
“Dammit!” I yell.
“Shh…” he whispers through a laugh as I struggle to get away.
“Don’t do that.”
“I couldn’t resist. I knew you’d have to check on me.”
“Get up right now!” I demand.
I must shock him, because he stands. He’s in his boxers again, but I won’t let his half-naked body distract me from my task.
As soon as he gets up, I take his place on the sofa.
“Liz, no!” he whispers.
“Too late. I’m already here. Goodnight, Finn.”
“I told you, you’re not sleeping on my couch. That’s not right.”
“I don’t care what you want. There’s nothing you can do about it. Now go to bed.”
He stands over me, shaking his head. I reach out for the blanket to cover myself and he pulls it away and throws it on the floor.
“Oops. Guess you’d better go get it.”
I sigh. “Nope. I’m good. It’s warm in here.”
He crosses his arms. “Fine with me. I’ll stand here all night and look at your thong.”
“Dammit, Finn. Stop.” I try to pull down his t-shirt and he laughs.
“Please toss me the sweats?”
“Nope. Go get them yourself.”
“What happened to the gen
tleman who insisted on opening doors for me all night? What would your mother say if I told her you wouldn’t help me?”
“She’d say good for me for trying to give you my bed like a gentleman.”
“Hand me the blanket. I want to sleep here, okay?”
“No. It’s not okay. Please sleep in my bed. I swear the couch is perfectly fine for me.”
He crosses his arms and stands over me, staring. The light from the window casts a glow on his muscular arms and solid thighs. I turn my eyes toward the blanket on the floor and attempt to reach for it without getting off the couch.
He takes a step back, as if to give me more room, so I lean farther out. When I do, he pulls me off the couch and onto the floor, taking my spot.
“Ow,” I mumble. “Oh God, that really hurt. I can’t move my arm.”
“What?” he questions, rolling off the couch and falling to his knees next to me on the floor. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I was just—”
Before he finishes his sentence, I bolt onto the couch with the blanket and laugh.
“You lose, loser,” I snicker.
“That was cheap.”
“Yep. Face it, loser. I get the couch.”
He rolls his neck and flexes his arms, as if he’s getting ready to exercise.
“Finn, just go to bed.”
He bends down and slides his hands under me, lifting me and the blanket simultaneously into his arms.
“No!”
He picks me up and tosses me on the bed, only I’m holding onto his arm and the blanket is tangled between us, so he loses his balance and ends up falling on top of me.
“Ow. Now that hurt,” I laugh.
He pushes himself up a bit and his face is next to mine.
He brushes my hair out of my eyes. He’s lying on top of me, with just a flimsy blanket separating our bodies from each other. He bends and presses his forehead to mine.
“Your parents can’t see. No need to put on a show,” I tell him in a whisper.
“Who said any of that was for my parents’ benefit?”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Come on, Liz. You’re a smart girl. You have to know by now.”
“Know what?” I question as he lifts his forehead from mine.