Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
It still is. I’m thankful for this new distraction. “You’re ignoring your mother?”
Finn does not seem like the type to avoid family, but his expression turns mulish and guilty.
“I’ve heard that ringtone at least a half a dozen times since I’ve moved in,” I add. “And you never pick up.”
“You’re right,” he bites out finally. “I’m a total dick.”
He looks so forlorn yet tightly angry that I can’t find it in myself to even tease. “When we first met, I might have agreed,” I say carefully. “But I know better. You’re one of the good guys.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” he mutters, glaring off and rubbing the back of his neck.
“But it is. What’s going on with you?”
For a second, it seems as if he might not answer, but then he lets out an expansive sigh of defeat. “Fuck it. I want to talk to you about this.” Blue eyes full of pain meet mine. “I do. I just don’t think I can have this discussion here or I’ll lose it. I need some air.”
Ten minutes ago, I’d wanted to lick him like warm honey. Now it’s all I can do not to hold him like a wounded animal. But if he’s anything like me, he’ll balk at that. I keep my voice neutral. “Well, then, let’s take a walk.”
We go to the river walk where the sun shines bright and cheerful and the breezes off the Mississippi are stiff enough to carry painful words away in a flash. We’re silent for a while and pass a man playing “On the Sunny Side of the Street” on the trumpet.
Farther down, a group of completely ragged musicians who are probably my age sit on the ground, practicing bluegrass.
Finn’s fingers touch my hand, and I edge away out of knee-jerk habit. He makes a noise of irritation. “Take my damn hand, Chess. I’m not going to fucking cry or anything.” His long fingers seek mine out again and secure them in a snug grip.
“I didn’t say you were, Mr. Grumpy.” I thread my fingers with his. “There? We’re holding hands.”
“Finally,” he mutters.
I let that go and just walk alongside him, waiting for Finn to speak. When he does, his voice is tired and strained. “About eleven months ago, I went to a party and hooked up with Britt.”
Okay, not what I was expecting. And not something I want to hear about, but I don’t say a word.
“It wasn’t even one night,” he goes on. “We fucked in a bathroom and then went back out to enjoy the rest of the party.”
Well, that’s classy.
“Yeah, I know,” he says as if I’ve spoken out loud. “I was high on an important game win and here was this supermodel begging to suck my—” He clears his throat. “Four months after that, Britt shows up at my door.”
“Please tell me you recognized her,” I blurt out unkindly. Damn it.
Finn shoots me a repressive look that I absolutely earned. “Yes. But I’ll be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see her. Sex with Britt had been kind of . . . bland.”
Only Finn would tell me sex in a bathroom with a supermodel had been bland. He swallows hard and stares out over the river. “She was pregnant, Chess.”
I stumble on a crack, and he tightens his grip on my hand to steady me. “What?” I croak.
Finn’s jaw bunches. “From high school out, they warn us about knocking women up. Never believe them when they say they’re on the pill. Always wear a condom. Today’s screw can be tomorrow’s screwup.”
“Lovely.”
“But true,” he says with a shrug. “I wore the condom. And I wasn’t so naive that I didn’t ask for a paternity test. Britt agreed. She didn’t want money. She has more than enough of her own. She just wanted me to know because it was the right thing to do.”
I suddenly feel small and petty for being jealous of the woman.
Finn lets go of me and shoves his fists into his pockets as we slowly walk along. “Tests came back. I was the father.”
“How . . . ? I never heard a word of this in the press. And James watches SportsCenter religiously.”
“We kept it quiet and were fortunate that there were no leaks. Jake is the only friend on my side who knows. Well, him and my family. They know, too.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Anyway, I manned up, offered to marry her—”
My stomach turns with a violent lurch. If he’s married . . .
“But Britt said no.”
Relief and panic war within my chest. He could have been married. I’d have never known him this way.
“We hammered out how to handle custody, things like that . . .” He trails off and stares down at his shoes as we walk.
“So, you have a child.” I can do the math. The idea that a little Finn offspring is somewhere out there stuns me. God. A father.