Page 56 of Rules in Love
A rush of air and feminine warmth swept over me as Scarlett leapt from the bed, ripped the linen from my hands and climbed me like a monkey on a tree. “Christ on a bike. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so nosey.”
My grief should have been enough to distract me from the effect being hugged by her had on me, but bloody hell, that nightie was so, so short and felt so soft, and she…she smelled so, so good. That gentle, sweet vanilla with a touch of spice or fire that burned right into my soul. Her body fit perfectly around mine. Her head nuzzled so neatly into the crook of my neck, and how my hand sat right on the small of her back was perfect. It was all perfect. She was perfect. The timing was not. I gently slipped from her embrace. “It’s fine, Red. I promise. It’s probably good to talk about it. I don’t do it a lot.”
She sat on the bed, tapped the spot beside her, and smiled. “I’m here. You’re here. We have a wall. Let’s talk.”
I had no intention of ever doing what I did, of revealing part of my soul. But the minute my thigh aligned with hers on the edge of the bed, my past leaked from me like water through a sieve. “Like I said, Shelby was my girlfriend. We got together after Mum and Dad died. She was such a cool chick. We grew up together, surfing and mucking around. Anyway, she fell pregnant and had a great pregnancy. Everything seemed fine. Her labor was long, and she lost a lot of blood, but Iris was the cutest baby. I know everyone thinks that about their kids, but she was perfect. Shelby was holding her and talking and laughing. Then suddenly, all these alarms started going off. The nurses all swooped in and took Iris away, and then, she was gone.”
“Finn.”
A violent gasp caused her whole body to shake against me as she lay her head on my shoulder. “It was a heart condition. We didn’t even know, and the pregnancy and birth…it was just too much.”
“How old was she?” Scarlett asked, her voice raw, cracking, sexy in a way I shouldn’t have noticed in such a moment.
“Seventeen. The same as me.”
“Bloody hell, Finn. It’s such a tragedy. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Please, Scar. Don’t be sorry. I don’t want sympathy. I just want you to know that I do think about you. I want you. I crave you, and I’ve only kissed you once. I had never felt anything close to that before. I catch myself thinking about you and feeling like a horrible person. I keep comparing what I think could be possible with you to what I had with Shelby. Every time we’re together, at work, in your kitchen, at the party when I kissed you, the guilt is there in the back of my mind. I can’t seem to make peace with it, and it’s part of why I can’t give you what you deserve. I just feel so guilty. Especially because her death was my fault. She died because of me.”
Scarlett grabbed my hand and held it to her soft cheek. “Finn. Look at me.” My eyes closed, but then opened and looked into hers as she traced her thumb over my skin. There was no pity in them. No disgust or judgment either. Just unconditional acceptance and empathy. “Shelby died because she had a heart condition. You just told me that yourself. How is that your fault?”
“Because if I’d listened to Nate and kept my fucking hands to myself, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. Her heart problem might have been discovered another way. She could have gone on meds. She could be alive this day if it weren’t for me fucking her because I was selfish and sad about my mum and dad!”
She held me tighter. “No, Finn… Have…have you ever said that to anyone before? Have you even acknowledged that to yourself before?”
Have I?“I dunno, maybe. I don’t think so.”
Pressing her lips to my temple, she sighed heavily, her warm breath tickling against my ear oddly soothing. “It’s just simply not true. What happened to Shelby was a tragedy. Yes, she was pregnant with your child, but you didn’t force yourself on her and didn’t do anything with malice or selfishness. Shelby may have had a heart attack surfing or jogging. Anything could have set it off. You have to believe me. Shelby’s death was not your fault.”
A guttural groan, an expulsion of grief and trauma that had been trapped inside for seven years, surged my body forward. Violently shaking, my head clunked against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Scarlett. This is why I don’t talk about it. It’s too much.”
“It’s not too much. I am your friend. I care about you as much as you do me, and I understand. My life has been no picnic. I’d only known Teddy for weeks when I fell pregnant. Within hours of finding out, I went from his new friend, the promising scholarship student, to a homeless, knocked-up loser crying on his shoulder and moving into his house. Youth, babies, and grief…that’s hard stuff to deal with. And you have done it so well. Look at you, Finn. You’ve graduated, raised a beautiful girl, moved to New York—”
“Met you.”
My eyes closed again. Her beautiful smile caressed the back of my hand. “Met me.” She giggled and raised my face to hers. “Never apologize for being emotional or genuine. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
Even in a moment so raw, the temptation of playfulness was too strong. “What are some of the other things? My body, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Pressing her lips into a thin line stifled her smile, but it still shone clear as day in her eyes…once she stopped rolling them. “Your taste in music is pretty good. I heard you singing Taylor the other day.”
“Hey…look, I only know the lyrics to almost all her songs because Evie and Iris play her constantly. It has nothing to do with me seeing theReputationtour twice,Folklorechanging my life, her hotness, or her being the most talented songwriter of our generation.”
“Obviously.”
I sighed heavily and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Red.”
“Yes, Finn.”
“Promise me I haven’t put you off with all this. I know it’s heavy. But I need us to be mates.”
“Promise.” She winked and elbowed my ribs. “We’re still buddies. Now, stop all this blubbering, and let’s get drunk.”
I feared my nervous breakdown would send Scarlett running to the hills, but it seemed to bring her even closer. Physically and emotionally.
After talking till three and sharing the two bottles of wine I “borrowed” from the bar as Scarlett distracted the bartender with her lingerie and a knock-knock joke, we fell into bed in a fit of giggles.
“Tops and tails!” she declared, spinning around so her surprisingly nice-smelling feet laid on my face. “Finny. I think I’m a teeny, tiny tit bipsy.”
