Page 7 of Kink in the Road
He lifted his beer bottle and tipped it at Finn. “He speaks truth.” He inclined his head to one side. “A problem shared is a problem halved.”
God, how I wanted to share my feelings with them, to unburden this need that writhed and wriggled, clawed and called inside me.
But how did anyone explain this ache in their chest? This unrepentant and unreciprocated longing?
I swallowed rapidly and glanced away, biting my tongue to halt the avalanche of words that threatened to burst from my lips.
I want to be looked at as a woman. I want to be kissed and caressed. I want to come home to laughter rather than silence.
I knew how to live alone—I’d been doing so for years. And I knew I could continue to do so happily. This loneliness would pass, it always did.
I glanced at the two men and forced a strained laugh. “It’s nothing, promise.”
Finn frowned, his dark eyes flashing. “Liar.”
I coughed. “Excuse me?”
“Liar,” he repeated, folding his arms as he glared at me. “For months there’s been something off. I thought it was the workload or the season, but tonight is the first time you’ve come into our bar looking like someone kicked your dog.”
“I don’t have a dog,” I murmured, stunned that he’d noticed.
“What he’s saying,” Aiden said, jerking a thumb at his friend, “is we’re worried about you.”
He laid a hand on my arm. “We’re friends, right?”
I stared down at the hand on my skin. His fingers were long and blunt, thick with the slight rasp of a callous or two on his palm.
“Friends,” I murmured, lifting my head to stare at Finn. “I… I think so.”
“Good.” He nodded once, as if that resolved it. “Then unburden yourself.”
My tongue loosened, my heart-need finding voice before I registered what I was saying.
“I’m single, but not invited to the singles weekend. No one in this town—or on this island—sees me as a woman. They don’t look at me and think, ‘oh, there she is. My future partner.’ They look at me and see a mechanic, a little sister, a friend. I’m never anyone’s choice. And I want to be.”
I thrust the pool cue at Aiden and whirled away, running agitated hands through my hair. “I want to be someone to someone. I want to be a partner and a wife. I want adventures and laughter and fights and all the little intimacies that come with being with someone.”
The words hurt to say, and the raw longing in my voice hurt to hear.
“I ache with it,” I admitted, tearing myself open. “I’m lonely—so fucking lonely—but that doesn’t mean I want to settle.” I glanced over my shoulder, seeing their stunned expressions.
What have I done?
My nose stung with repressed tears, my chest tightening as heat flushed my cheeks. Humiliated, frustrated, embarrassed, I swallowing hard—desperate to leave before I did anything stupid. “I have to go.”
Finn hand wrapped lightly around my wrist, staying my dramatic exit
“Thank you for sharing.” He stroked his knuckles across my cheek. “You deserve everything your heart desires.”
You, my heart whispered. I want both of you.
I glanced away, shame burning my cheeks. “I need to get to bed. It’s late and we have the singles weekend to support tomorrow.”
Finn hesitated before he dropped his hand and stepped back. “Let us walk you out.”
“It’s only twenty-eight steps home,” I protested.
“We’re walking you home,” Aiden confirmed, slinging an arm over my shoulder to give me a hard squeeze. “No arguments.”
