Falling for Finn

by Jackie Ashenden

  Hurt bloomed in her expression. “Jesus, you think I don’t know that? That’s why I wanted us to forget it. Because it should never have happened in the first place.”

  “Stop saying that. Stop dismissing it like it meant nothing.”

  Her expression tightened. “And you stop making it into something it wasn’t. It was just sex, Finn. That’s it. That’s all it was.”

  All that heat. All that passion. All that intense, incredible feeling flooding through him as he held her in his arms. Reduced to just sex. Dismissed as if it didn’t matter.

  The volcano building inside him exploded. “No, it fucking wasn’t!” He took an involuntary step toward her, his hands in fists at his sides, almost shaking with rage. “It might have meant nothing to you, but it was the most incredible experience of my life, and I won’t let you turn it into shit!”

  “Don’t shout at me!” She’d gone white. “I’m not turning it into shit. And it did mean something to me. It just wasn’t—”

  “Wasn’t what?” The edge of the coffee table bumped his legs hard, forcing him to stop his unconscious movement toward her. “Wasn’t intense? Passionate? Fucking incredible? You didn’t beg me not to stop? You didn’t scream in my arms?”

  Anna hugged herself in a movement that looked defensive. “Why do you keep pushing this? Why the hell is this so damn important to you?”

  And abruptly everything became clear. His anger. His hurt. The sense of betrayal he felt.

  It was all so crystal, fucking clear and he couldn’t deny it any longer.

  His hands uncurled. He straightened. “Why is it important to me? Because I’m in love with you, Anna.”

  “What?” If she’d been white before, she was now the color of ashes.

  “You heard me.” And now he was shaking. Shaking and he couldn’t stop. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years and years. That’s why I can’t pretend it never happened.”

  A dead silence fell like a thick, black curtain.

  Anna opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  A horn from the taxi outside sounded.

  His ride.

  “Say something.” His voice sounded cracked. “For fuck’s sake, Anna.”

  She blinked, and he thought he caught a glitter of tears in her eyes. “How could you do this to me?”

  Then before he could respond, she turned and left the room.

  Chapter Nine

  Anna’s phone beeped. She decided to ignore it.

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” Lily said, waving a hand. “Go. Answer it.”

  “It’s okay. You’re more important than a couple of texts.”

  Lily gave her a look. “I think that’s the tenth text you’ve received in the space of five minutes. Whoever it is, they really want you to reply.”

  She did know who it was. Finn. And she didn’t want to reply. “It’s fine, Lil. Another coffee?”

  Her friend pulled a face. “Aw, hon, I’d love to, but I’ve gotta be in court this afternoon. Shall we meet up for drinks one night next week or something?”

  “Sure. I’ll text you.”

  “Do.” Lily collected her stuff and stood. “You’ve told Finn, haven’t you?”

  Anna had spent the past hour explaining to Lily the reason why she’d been a crap friend for the past six months. It hadn’t been easy. Lily had been suitably horrified about the attack, and then very sympathetic. She hadn’t blamed Anna for not contacting her though. She’d seemed to understand.

  Unlike Finn.

  Her jaw tightened. “Yes, I told him.”

  “Good,” Lily said, seemingly oblivious to Anna’s sudden tension. “Well, bring him along to drinks too. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  No. She wasn’t going to bring him. She wasn’t going to bring him anywhere.

  I love you, Anna.

  Bastard. He couldn’t love her. Love wasn’t allowed. Love wasn’t anywhere in the rules.

  Her phone beeped again as Lily left, vibrating angrily on the café table. Unable to help herself, she glanced down at it.

  Avoiding me, Anna? You do that so well.

  She took a shaky breath. Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to make a situation that was complicated enough even worse?

  Anna leaned forward on her elbows, the heels of her palms pressed against her eyelids. She could still see him, facing her over the coffee table in her apartment the night before. His arms at his sides, hands in fists. Tension singing in every line of his powerful body. And the look on his face…raw desperation. Fury. And pain.

  The same kind of expression she’d seen on her parents’ faces as they’d ripped the shit out of each other, as they'd torn each other to shreds. As they'd systematically destroyed the relationship they’d had with one another, and their marriage along with it.

  No. She didn’t want that. Not for him and not for her. Love was loud, raised voices. Love was cruel words flung in anger. Love was broken-hearted weeping and emotional torment. And she wanted nothing to do with it.

  What she wanted was her friend back again. Her normal, quiet life. Things back the way they were before the attack had ruined everything.

  And now they never would be.

  How could he do this to her? How could he change the rules on her like that? Bastard.

  Her phone beeped again.

  Don’t be a coward. I thought you had more guts than that.

  Anna let out an angry breath. She wasn’t being a coward. She was just…

  Being a coward.

  She cursed. Prick. Why did he keep pushing her like this?

  Another beep from the phone.

  I want to talk to you. Come to the office when you’ve stopped sulking.

  She nearly picked it up and threw the wretched thing on the floor. But taking out her anger on her phone was stupid and childish.

  So was ignoring Finn.

  Yeah, she knew that. If she was going to have any hope of getting their friendship back on track, she had to deal with this. So why did the thought of facing him, of hearing those words again frighten her quite so much?

  Anna picked up her phone, stared down at Finn’s text. She’d always thought their friendship so strong. Unbreakable. Like a mountain it endured, remained unchanging and constant throughout the years.

  But now it felt like discovering that mountain was made of glass. A fragile thing that could shatter at the slightest breath.

  And that scared her. Because what would she do if it broke?

  You managed without him for six months, didn’t you?

  Somehow the thought galvanized her. She would face this. She would sort this out once and for all. So he loved her. That didn’t mean things had to change between them. And if it did, well, she would handle it. Somehow.

  Putting her phone back in her bag, she got to her feet and left the café.

  The Wild Life studio wasn’t far, and within ten minutes she was walking in the door.

  Roz, the receptionist, looked up as she came in and gave her a huge grin. “Hey, Anna! Long time, no see.”

  Anna grinned back. She knew all the Wild Life people, having been in and out of the offices ever since Finn had first landed the job. “Hi, Roz, yeah, it’s been a while, huh?”

  “It has. Finn’s got a couple of people in his office but you can go in. I think the serious part of the meeting is over.” She rolled her eyes. “You know when they start comparing skating injuries there’s no going back.”

  Anna laughed. “So true.”

  But she found it difficult to keep smiling as she made her way down the corridor, saying hi to people and being friendly as she went. Hard when tension and nervousness gathered in the pit of her stomach, making her oddly sick.

  Outside the door to his office, she had to stop and take a few calming breaths, trying to get her racing heartbeat back under control. She could hear him speaking, his deep voice a soft rumble in among the lighter, unfamiliar voices of other people.

  I love you, Anna.

>   She bit her lip. Hard. Then put a hand on the door handle and pushed it open.

  He was the first person she saw, sprawling like a lazy cat on the low, leather couch he preferred over his desk. A laptop sat open beside him, a video clip of a snowboarder playing on it. Some other guys were watching it and exclaiming as the boarder executed a back flip.

  Finn looked up.

  And her heart tightened in her chest.

  He wore his usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt, a white T-shirt this time, the color emphasizing the golden honey color of his tanned skin and the darkness of his eyes.

  Gorgeous man.

  Why did she have to notice? Why was that now the first thing she saw whenever she looked at him?

  He didn’t say anything to her, merely putting a finger on one of the laptop keys, stopping the video amid a chorus of disappointment from everyone watching it. “We’ll see the rest of this later, guys. I have another meeting.”

  A couple of minutes later they were alone.

  “So,” Finn said, getting to his feet in a lazy, graceful movement. “I take it you’ve stopped sulking?”

  Anna wandered over to his desk, pushing herself up on top of it, hoping she looked casual and not nearly shaking with nervousness. “What do you want, Finn?”

  He went to the door, which one of the guys had left open. Putting a hand on the handle, he pushed it closed, then turned and leaned back against the wood, crossing his arms.

  She found herself staring at the way his T-shirt pulled over his wide shoulders, the stretch of it around the hard muscle of his biceps. God, she remembered how strong he was. How those arms had felt around her. The flex of those muscles under her hand…

  Anna looked away, her mouth dry. She had to stop remembering that. Had to stop thinking about it.

  It was the most incredible experience of my life…

  “I would have thought it was obvious what I wanted to talk about.”

  Only just stopping herself from shaking her head to clear the memories, Anna curled her fingers under the edge of the desk, gripping on tight. “Oh yeah. You love me. That’s right.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “Well spotted, genius. Yes, of course I’m angry.”

  The look in his eyes became impenetrable. “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t ask for this, Finn. I didn’t want this.”

  “And you think I did? You think I wanted to fall in love with someone who doesn’t give a fuck?”

  “That’s not true! I do give—”

  “But you don’t love me back.” His voice sounded hard and cold. “Do you, Anna?”

  Anna blinked, staring at him, not ready for the straight-out brutality of the question.

  She felt dizzy all of a sudden. As if the ground beneath her feet, normally firm, had moved. Had shaken. Cracked apart. An earthquake turning her life upside down. And he the stranger doing all the shaking. A man she didn’t know. A man who didn’t bear any resemblance to the friend she knew. The familiar, funny, laughing Finn she loved.

  Because she did love him. Just not the way he wanted her to.

  “I do love you, Finn. But you’re my friend, not—”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that. I get it. You don’t have to say it again.” He stood against the door, arms still folded, and there was an odd kind of stillness about him. A certainty in his expression. “In which case, I have something to say to you.”

  Fear turned over inside her. Fear and a helpless anger. This was spinning out of control and she couldn’t stop it. She gripped the desk hard. “And what’s that?”

  “That I’m tired of staying in the box you put me in. I’m tired of being the friend you want me to be. I’m tired of having to pretend I don’t feel what I feel. And I’m done with it. I’ve done it for too many years and I’m not doing it anymore. I want something for a change. I want something for me.”

  Her jaw was so tight it ached. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “It’s always about you. What you want. What you need. What about me, Anna? What about what I want?”

  “What about you, Finn? Were you the one almost date-raped by a complete stranger? No, I don’t think so.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. His eyes dark and cold. So cold. “I know how awful it was for you, and believe me, if I could, I’d make sure that guy never hurts you again. Never hurts anyone again. But I’m also not your bloody Band-Aid or a fucking phone counselor. Just like I’m not a lover you can take whenever you feel the urge, then ignore because it doesn’t suit you.”

  “I never said—”

  “I’m your friend of twenty goddamned years, Anna. The one who held you every time you cried, who was there every time you needed someone to talk to. Who held your hand when you were scared. Who had to watch you fall in love with someone else and not say a word. The one you cut out of your life for six months. Is what I want not important?”

  The words were flat and brutal, sharp as arrows, each one finding a target.

  Anna slid off the desk, a defensive rage coursing through her. All she could think was that Finn seemed bent on destroying them. Destroying their friendship.

  “Don’t you dare say that,” she said starkly. “Don’t you dare think you mean nothing to me. You know that’s not true, Finn, you know it!”

  “Do I? All I know is that I’m in love with you. And it’s killing me.”

  She began to shiver now, physical reaction setting in. “This isn’t my fault!”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “Then stop punishing me for it.”

  He shoved himself away from the door, a hand pushing through his blond hair. “Jesus, I’m not punishing you, Anna.”

  “Yes, you are. You just said you wanted something for you. Like I’ve given you nothing. I taught you to read, Finn. I propped up your ego for years after your bloody family trashed it. I even got you this stupid job when you couldn’t find anything else, so don’t you dare tell me you’ve had nothing from me!”

  She hadn’t realized he’d moved toward her. Hadn’t realized that she’d been moving toward him too. Not until he took another step that brought him close enough for her to feel the heat of his body. Smell the warmth of sun and salt and the special, spicy, masculine scent that was all Finn.

  “And did you do all those things for me?” he said harshly. “Or because they made you feel better about yourself?”

  She felt like he’d slapped her. “No, of course not! I did them for you!”

  “Then why does it sound like a justification?”

  Anna took a ragged breath, wishing she were anywhere else but here. She’d always hated confrontation, had hated it when her parents used to scream blue murder at each other, hated it now. Especially when Finn was supposed to be the one man she’d never thought she would end up shouting at.

  “Don’t do this,” she said, unable to stop herself from pleading. “You’re ruining it. You’re ruining what we have.”

  But the look in his eyes didn’t soften. None of the care and concern she usually saw there. The eyes of a stranger. “I’m not ruining anything, Anna. I’m just being honest with you.”

  “Why?” God, she sounded so hoarse. “Why can’t you just keep lying?”

  Something crossed his face, an expression she didn’t recognize. Then he took one more step, and suddenly an arm was around her waist and the length of his hot, powerful body up against hers. All the air left her lungs. The heat of him like an open flame on her skin.

  He lifted a hand, his fingers pushing into her hair, tangling in it, gripping it.

  She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The darkness of his eyes, the feel of him against her held her motionless.

  “No, Anna,” he said roughly. “I’m not lying again. Not for you. Not for me. Not for us. Not when there’s so much more we could have together.”

  “What more?”

  “This.” And his mouth came down on hers.

  He knew he shouldn’t do it,
but he couldn’t help himself. He was so angry. So goddamned angry with her. And so full of want. So full of helpless need.

  She was killing him. Slowly and by degrees, and he was letting her do it. It had to stop.

  So one of the first things he had to do was remind her of how it been between them.

  Anna made a small sound, like a gasp, and for a second she stilled in his arms. Then her mouth softened beneath his and he started to kiss her, kiss her like she held the only source of air in the room.

  Christ, she tasted good. Hot and sweet, just like he remembered.

  He tightened his grip in her hair, the silky strands against his fingers, pulling her head back further so he could explore the heat of her mouth. And she let him, her body going soft and pliant in his arms, her hands pressed to his chest, fingers spread. But not to push him away. She began to kiss him back, hesitantly at first, then with greater hunger. The fingers on his chest curled into his T-shirt, gripping it like she wanted him closer.

  His mind blanked. It seemed imperative that he get to the couch, or to the desk, or, hell, the floor would do, to push her down, pull up the little denim mini she wore, sink himself into the tight, wet heat of her. Ease the desperate ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside him.

  He wanted her so much. It would never leave him. He knew that now. Nobody would ever compare to her. Nobody would even come close.

  Yeah, those are the stakes, you fucking idiot. Don’t blow it.

  Jesus. He couldn’t take this further, not now. It was supposed to be a reminder, nothing more.

  Finn tore his mouth from hers, releasing her so suddenly she gasped, stumbling. He panted, hard as a rock, barely able to get a breath to speak.

  Anna stared at him, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. She raised a hand to her mouth, fingers trembling. “Why did you do that?” Her voice sounded so husky he almost shivered.

  “So you remember what it was like.” He had to grip the back of the couch near where he stood. Just to have something to hold on to. “To remind you of what we could have together.”