Page 14 of Unintentionally Yours

Too loud, too bright, too fucking much.

Cool, work-roughened hands landed on her shoulders, the unexpected touch making her flinch. But Finn just squeezed gently, his touch firm and grounding as he turned her to face him.

“Easy there, baby.” His voice was a low, soothing rumble, a balm to her frazzled senses. “Nothing to worry about. Just the storm finally gathering steam. It’ll blow over soon enough, just like all storms do.”

Layla swallowed hard, fighting the urge to bury her face in his chest, to seek shelter in his arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t...I don’t know why I’m reacting like this.”

Finn’s eyes softened, a wealth of understanding in their mossy depths. “You’ve been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours. Cut yourself some slack.”

Carefully, giving her every opportunity to pull away, he slid one hand up to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking a tender path across her cheekbone.

Layla couldn’t help it - she leaned into his touch, savoring the rough warmth of his skin, the unexpected gentleness in hands so large and powerful. He touched her like she was something precious. Fragile.

Cherished.

It stole the breath from her lungs and stopped the blood in her veins. When was the last time someone had touched her like that? Hell, had anyone ever?

She didn’t know. Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe past the hammering of her heart, the dry click of her throat as she swallowed. Finn was so close, the heat of him seeping into her bones, the clean, sharp scent of him filling her head until she felt drunk with it.

It would be so easy to sway forward, to close the scant distance between them, until nothing remained but the press of his body against hers, the rasp of his stubble against her lips as she rose up to meet his...

No. No, she couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

Kissing Finn would be a mistake of monumental proportions. An act of sheer, unmitigated selfishness that would do neither of them any favors in the long run.

Layla was already living on borrowed time, taking shameless advantage of Finn’s hospitality and kindness. She refused to compound that sin by using him to scratch the sudden, desperate itch beneath her skin.

No matter how badly she wanted to.

With a ragged exhale, Layla pulled away, taking a careful step back to put some much-needed distance between them. She instantly felt the loss of his touch, his warmth, but she made herself ignore the hollow ache in her chest. The yearning twisting like dull knives in her belly.

“Thank you,” she said, absurdly proud of how steady her voice sounded. “I’m sorry for freaking out a little. I really don’t like storms.”

A soft huff of laughter escaped Finn’s throat. “Nothing to forget, as far as I’m concerned.” His gaze turned serious, intent. “I meant what I said, Layla. Cut yourself some slack. God knows you’ve earned a freakout or two.”

They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Again, the urge to kiss him was almost overpowering. This man...he did something to her. Twisted her up inside until she hardly knew which way was up.

It was dangerous, this pull she felt. This bone-deep need to lean on him, to trust him, to let him shoulder some of the weight crushing down on her.

But that wasn’t his job. It wasn’t his mess to clean up.

No, that dubious honor fell to Layla and Layla alone.

Squaring her shoulders, she pasted on a smile that was only slightly tremulous at the edges. “Right. Well. No more freaking out today, scout’s honor.”

One dark brow arched towards Finn’s hairline. “You were a Girl Scout?”

“No,” Layla admitted with a rueful twist of her lips. “But I ate a lot of thin mints, so that has to count for something, right?”

Finn snorted, shaking his head in amused exasperation. “Sure. We’ll go with that.”

“So,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “What does one do for fun around here when the weather is shitty, and the company is...well. Me?”

“There’s a few things we can do,” he said slowly, an odd note in his voice that made Layla’s head snap up. He was watching her, his gaze dark and intent in a way that made her nerve endings sizzle. “We could play chess...or get to know each other better.”

A thrill shot through Layla at the rough burr of his voice, the unspoken promise lacing the seemingly innocent words. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly bone dry as images flashed through her mind - tangled limbs and sweat-slicked skin, strong hands and wicked lips mapping every curve and hollow of her body.

Was he actually suggesting...?

---