Page 170 of Twisted Trails
His mom steps forward and pulls me into a hug, whispering against my ear, “It’s so good to see you again, Alaina. We dearly missed you.”
That suffocating feeling inside me ramps up ten times, and all I can do is hold back my tears as my arms tighten around her, needing something to hold onto.
When she lets go, I’m not ready, so I stand there in the aftermath of it, dazed and my throat full of barbed wire. I try to catch Dane’s gaze, to signalhelp, I’m not okay, get me out of here, but he’s busy talking to Piper.
Finn’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Come on.”
When I don’t move or say a word, he turns to his dad and asks, “Can you take Kev and Rach home later?”
“Sure.” His dad hands him a set of keys. “Take my car. We’ll take your mom’s and grab pizza before we head home.”
“Thanks.” Finn takes the keys and starts to guide me away.
“Where are we going?” I ask, voice thin.
“Home,” he says simply.
His home?
“Why?”
He looks down at me as we step off the gravel and onto the quiet stretch of pavement leading to the parking lot.
“Because you need some privacy.”
The drive is silent, maybe ten minutes, maybe forever. I sit in the passenger seat and stare out the window, trying to find myself in the old sidewalks or the familiar curves of the road I’ve ridden more times than I can count.
When Finn parks in front of the Greer house, the memories hit like a freight train.
There’s the dent in the mailbox we once blamed on raccoons, but definitely made with a poorly landed bunny hop. The pine tree still leans too far over to the side, and even though everything is older now, it still feels likehome, or something that used to be.
Mechanically, I climb out and head down the side steps toward Finn’s apartment under the house. He unlocks the door and gestures for me to go inside. For a moment, I hesitate on the threshold, because I already know stepping in there will punch me in my already hollow and aching chest.
And it does.
The space has changed—grown up. The furniture is newer, the color palette toned down, but it’s still messy in a way that screamsFinn.
A couple of hoodies are on the back of a chair, tools are on the counter, and bike parts are laid out on the table. It makes me smile, just a little, as I feel like the girl I used to be.
Finn closes the door behind us, and when he turns to face me, his eyes are too gentle. Too knowing. “It’s fine, Alaina.It’s just me.You can let it out.”
I cross my arms like a shield and tilt up my chin, holding back the burn that’s already clawing behind my eyes again. I’m not even sure why. “I’m fine.”
Finn tilts his head and takes a single step forward. “Baby girl.”
And somehow, that’s it.
The last fucking straw.
The tears that have been choking me finally break loose, and a horrible sound escapes my throat with them. I can’t see him move through the blur, but I feel it when Finn wraps me in his arms.
“I know it doesn’t mean shit right now…” he murmurs into my hair, “… but you were so fucking good out there. You were riding with the best in the world, the most talented men in the elite league, and you made them sweat all damn season. You would’ve crushed Raine if it weren’t for your hand. This is not your fault. It’smine. You broke your fingers because of me. You crashed because of me. Don’t be mad at yourself for not winning. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me.”
I tighten my grip on his shirt and tug him even closer, shaking my head against his chest. “I’m not mad at you anymore.”
His arms tighten around me before he pulls back enough to see my face. “You’re not?”
I shake my head again, fresh tears slipping down my cheeks. “No.”
