Page 36 of Burn It Down
8
For a few hours, I was devastated. I crumbled to the floor against my door. Then I heard moaning. Loud, porn star sounds that tore at my heart. At my fucking soul.
Tears seemed endless until I heard Finn. Heard him come. Loud and animalistic; groaning my name long and loud. I almost laughed. I was so fuckingstupid!
Scrambling through the bag I’d dropped by the door, I snatched out my phone. Still hearing the moaning, none of it sounding like Finn, I swiped it open.
After a booze filled night at a frat party our freshman year, Bree agreed to a locate app for safety. I dropped a pin when we got to parties so I could find her and rip her from the shitty situations she got herself into. I wasted no time in locating her and then, I did laugh. Bree was miles away at Loyola, in our old dorm.
Not across the hall fucking my man.
For a few moments, I laughed, curled up against the door. Listening to the porn star noises that I suddenly realized were just that---porn star noises. From a porn I knew he loved, because we had watched it once.
The porn that starred his favorite lead. The woman was such a doppelganger for me, I insisted he never tell Cage about her. How creepy would that be for us both? More for me, of course. Gross.
When I finally drug myself to my feet, I was no longer crying. My breathing no longer rattled in my chest. Fuck, Icouldbreathe. At last my heart didn’t feel like it was ripping in half.
Finn was a son of a bitch for tonight. For letting his jealousy and pain manifest it the way it had tonight. As I heard the porno sounds quiet, I knew he was hurting. More than I had ever realized.
Finn was so certain I wanted Jordan Dexter, that he was all but forcing me to try it out. To see what it could be like to want someone else. Problem was, Iwascurious. I had only ever wanted Finn. Even the other men I had dated had been temporary. Filling a role until Finn figured his shit out.
Even my family knew it was always Finn. At least, now they had admitted as much. Funny thing was, they were confused why we had hidden it at all. Apparently, we had both been about as obvious as smoke at a fire. Seems we would have had their blessing.
“Finn is a good man,” Pop had murmured softly at lunch the day I had moved in here, “Wish he saw it the way the rest of us do. If he did, perhaps he might have come to me. Never Cage; your brother made it impossible for Finn to do the right thing.” Pop had smirked at me while swirling his fries through my ketchup.
“Pop,” It was just us; we shared a relationship different than the others, “I have been in love with Finn since….it was improper, really.” The wait for his reaction was not long; he laughed. Deep and hearty, pressing a hand to his taut belly.
“Gigi. Exactly two people are unaware that you are in love with that boy. Cage was as blind as he could possibly manage to be to it.” I joined his laughter, laying my head at his shoulder.
“Who else?” Despite knowing the answer, I knew I needed my father, the man I respected more than anyone, to make me see I wasn’t crazy.
“Finn, of course. Shortstop, I knew you always looked at him differently. Never the way those boys thought you did. Finn always lit you up the minute he entered a room. I wondered if it might pass. Then, after your little sabbatical to escape it, I knew different. I saw you two at some get together Mom had. The minute he saw you and you saw him, I knew better. It’s beautiful, and it scares the shit out of him.” We laughed again and I hugged him tight, stealing his fries while he stole my onion rings.
Pop wasn’t the best at talking feelings. Even worse at showing them. When he did, though, he got it right every single time. As much as Mom was the matriarch and ran our family like a well-oiled machine, Pop was the heart the fueled that machine. Just didn’t know how to show it all the time.
By the time I came along, the rough edges that Regan, Tegan, and Cage had smoothed out, one by one, were rounded and easier for me to navigate. Which was why we shared those kinds of lunches where he ate my food and I used his ketchup and we battled life together.
While I knew that wasn’t exactly his blessing, I knew if Finn wanted it, he’d get it. Pop loved Finn like another son. The pride on his face when Cage and Finn were sworn in still got me misty eyed.
Finn had more than just me believing he was a good man. He was just sure he would never measure up. Didn’t matter that I thought he did. Finn would sabotage everything good in his life, thinking he didn’t deserve it.
Hearing that Jordan Dexter wanted me and I had considered wanting him was all the reason he needed. To fuck it up and to hurt us both. Really, I knew it was hurting him more this time. Because I wasn’t sure Ididn’twant Jordan.
Then again, I wasn’t sure I did. Finn was right about one thing; we didn’t allow ourselves time to heal. That crazy kinetic connection we had pushed us back into each other’s arms.
Instead of dealing with my walking away, or how it killed me to wait on the sidelines for so long, we just picked back up. As if the fucked-up relationship we had before could ever be what either of us needed. Not if we wanted to work.
I wanted to work. Finn owned all of my keys, even if he had no idea. That shit he said tonight was true. Even if I wanted someone else; talking or flirting was one thing. Seeing what it might feel like was about all I thought I'd allow. I wouldn't take it further.
It would take a helluva lot for me to let another man touch me. To give what I had given Finn. Thinking of letting another man have that part of me made me sick. Physically sick. I wondered if it had ever felt that way for Finn. Tonight certainly had me doubting that fact.
Finn had been right days ago; Bree had always come on to him. I'd never cared. I mean, I cared of course; until tonight I never felt like it could cost me something. That his own jealousy might drive him to make a mistake we could not come back from.
I had no doubt Bree would tell me whatever she thought would drive me away. Tonight must feel like a fucked-up victory to her. Now I understood why she was never happy for us when we got together. Why talking to him again seemed to bother her so. My best friend thought it was her turn at my man.
Too fucking bad. Apparently, I needed to teach the bitch some rules. Screwing my sophomore year crush at a party she forced me to go to, in hopes of hooking up with said crush, was not the same as fucking the man I loved. Not that Bree knew what love meant.
Once upon a time, we were thick as thieves. We would sit on my family’s deck and read and daydream and talk about books and boys. Then she grew tits, and then paid for better ones, and something changed. The minute boys started looking at her, Bree changed.
