Page 12 of Resurrection

“I’m aware of the questions that need answered,” I say. “You being here instead of in Chicago or Russia isn’t helpful for any of them.”

Finn moves around the two of us and crosses to the couch Eric vacated. Easing into the soft white leather, he takes us in with his flinty gaze.

“Don’t mind me,” Finn says. “Pretend I’m not here. Carry on.” He waves his hand and then rests them over, last I checked, an impressive set of abs.

“Are you going to get arrested?” Eric focuses on me, his jaw tight. “For the guy who almost got you killed years ago?” He brushes his fingers over the spot on my chest where the faint remnants of a scar still lie underneath my shirt.

Finn raises his eyebrows. “You’re fucking lucky I’m recovering from bullet wounds, or you’d be having your ass handed to you right now. That’s your one asshole comment. I’d prefer to let my stitches heal. But if you poke this bear, you’re going to get the claws and my teeth.”

“He’s not kidding.” I give Eric a pointed stare.

His face contorts with disgust and disbelief. “A bear metaphor? That’s the best you’ve got?” He tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.

His constant points of contact are annoying me. He’s never this affectionate anymore.

Tension vibrates off Finn. Is it the familiarity Eric is showing with me, or my ex-fiancé’s disrespect of him?

“You have the shittiest taste in men,” Eric says. “He probably doesn’t understand metaphors.”

Finn holds up two fingers. “Two credits shy of getting a business and literary studies degree. I could give you a bettermetaphor, but you seemed like a simple guy. I didn’t want to overwhelm you with my intellect.” He smirks and laces his fingers together across his middle again.

“I’m simple? How the fuck, in this day and age, do you stay two credits shy of getting a degree?”

“Well,” he says, drawing out the word. “You start by murdering a bunch of people in Ireland and then you keep killing people.” Finn shrugs. “Seems I was cut out for a path in life which didn’t require a degree.”

My heart races, and my knees are unsteady. I can’t decide if I’ll vomit in disgust or faint with longing. Terrible taste in men is an understatement because everything he said makes me want to haul him upstairs and reacquaint my body with his.

Eric pales at the implications of Finn’s words, and then he wheels on me.

“We need to have a discussion in private. I’m extremely concerned about what you’re getting yourself into here.”

With a sigh, I purse my lips together. “I’ll show him where he’s staying, and we can chat.”

“Jay can do that.” Eric nods toward Jay, who is by the main entrance.

“No, he cannot. He’s guarding the door from anyone who might want to burst in here. I’ll show him to his room and come back.”

“I’m not tired yet.” Finn settles deeper into the couch.

There’s no way I am pleading with him to leave the room. “Fine,” I grit out. “Eric and I will go spend time inmy room, alone,to get privacy then.”

Finn holds up a hand. “I can show myself to my room. It’s fine. Where is it?”

As he rises, it’s clear he’s still stiff and sore. Seeing him weak softens me toward him and his stubbornness.

“Up the stairs, fourth door on the left. The last one.”

“Where’s your room?” He angles his head toward Eric.

Eric meets his curious stare. “Not your concern, I don’t think.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Carys.” His gaze trails over me, my skin prickling with desire.

“Right,” I agree. He will not go to bed. He’ll retreat to the top of the stairs and find somewhere to eavesdrop. The upper level of the house has a balcony which overlooks the living area, and voices drift up. Eric is so intent on berating me, he hasn’t even considered this idea.

After Finn disappears from the room, Eric takes the next hour to try to ‘talk sense into me.’ I counter every argument with two responses—he’s no longer my fiancé, or I’m his boss. He continues to suck back the vodka and becomes less interested in turning me off Finn and more interested in turning me onto him.

We’ve fallen into a postbreakup routine of sleeping together whenever we’re in any city but Chicago. Part of me wonders whether he flew here just to get laid. If I wasn’t so desperate to propel Finn out of my head, I wouldn’t even entertain sleeping with him tonight. He’s being an obnoxious dick who doesn’t recognize his place in my life or the organization.

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