Page 23 of Where We Belong
“Nothing,” I say, taking a lick of ice cream. Damn, this is good.
“You’re even crabbier than usual,” he says.
“I’m not crabby.”
Glee twinkles in his eyes as he shifts and says, “Darling, you’re the crabbiest.”
I’m getting out of the door five hours later, with my gym bag thrown over my shoulder, when Finn’s ATV passes by the cottage.
“Finn, wait!” I jog down the stairs and wave a hand just in time for him to come to a stop. He turns the engine off, then meets me on the gravel road.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, hands in the pockets of his faded blue jeans. He’s changed since this morning, now wearing a honey-colored flannel shirt open over a white T-shirt.
“Here.” I pull a five-dollar bill out of my front pocket and hand it to him. I was going to drop it in an envelope under his office door later, but this is even better.
“What’s that?” Finn asks, not moving to take the money.
“Do you need your eyes checked?”
He looks up, as if asking the heavens to grant him mercy. “What is it for?”
“The ice cream.” I shake the bill. He still doesn’t take it.
“I don’t want your money,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Well, I don’t want to be indebted.”
He throws his head back again, this time with a snicker. “Oh my god. It’s not a debt. I just paid for an ice cream cone.”
“Still.” I extend the money again. I’ve met so many men who did everything they could for you to owe them something. Coaches, boyfriends, stepdads. I’m not doing it ever again.
Finn shakes his head. “Pay me back by allowing me to train with you sometimes.” His eyes drift toward the spot where we had our plank competition a while back, and his brows climb his forehead. “Can’t have you beating me forever.”
I snicker. Fun times. “I can do thatandpay you back.”
“No.”
“Finnegan, take that money.”
“Finnegan?”
“Isn’t that what your name’s short for?”
“My name’s just Finn. Why, is Lexie short for something else?”
“Not to you, it isn’t.”
He laughs. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”
“Take the money, please.”
“Not a chance in the world. I can buy you a damn ice cream cone if I want to.” He winks. “See you later.”
He turns to leave, and unease returns to my chest. This morning’s hangout was fine—fun, even—but without Lilianne acting as a buffer, I’m reminded once again of how crappy I was to him during our last run.
“Hey, Finn?”
“Yeah?”
