Finn and his father both stand and slide out. I feel like I should give them a moment alone.
After I pee and check my makeup, I find it difficult to return to the table. Pacing for a few minutes, I force myself to walk out the door. Finn approaches.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know about the necklace. I wouldn’t have said a word if I knew—”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was getting worried you bailed on me.”
“I’d never do that to you. Well, not here anyway.”
He smiles, holding his arm out to me. “Shall we?”
I nod, sliding my arm into his.
As soon as we arrive, I sense the air has changed. We eat and discuss how young Finn had a huge obsession with soccer balls and drawing. His leg resumes its position against mine. It’s definitely purposeful and I assume it’s because he knows I’m a wreck.
“Have you seen the picture above Finn’s bed?” Shilah asks.
I nod.
“Of course you have. How silly of me.”
I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. She thinks we’re sleeping together. Oh boy.
“Anyway, did he tell you he painted that?”
My head spins to regard him. “You made that?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ll never hear him brag about himself. He’s not one to toot his own horn. Ever,” his father adds. “We didn’t know he was valedictorian of his senior class until awards night.”
I stare at him in awe.
“Alright. That’s enough. Liz is going to think I paid you to sell me to her as a catch,” Finn says with a laugh.
“Oh honey, I bet she already knows you are. Don’t you, sweetie?” Mrs. Walsh adds with a grin.
I manage a nod. I don’t want to seem overly eager, but she’s right. He sure does seem like a catch. Why in the hell is he pretending withme?”
After dinner, Finn and his father argue over who’s footing the bill. Finn wins out by promising it’s part of their Christmas present. As we walk toward the exit, there’s a large group just coming in, so we stand and wait for a path to clear.
“Mistletoe!” Mrs. Walsh says, nudging us as she points over our heads.
We glance up at the same time and sure as shit, we’re standing under a large sprig.
Finn gazes into my eyes and I feel a lump in my throat.
“Don’t be shy, my boy. Kiss the girl. It’s not like you’ve never done it before. Right?” he questions, suddenly concerned.
Finn releases him of his worry. “Right. Of course we’ve kissed before,” he states.
I want to add,only I was drunk off my ass, but I think better of it.
Finn leans in toward me and I stop breathing. Holy hell.
His lips touch mine. They’re soft and gentle. His mouth stays on mine and I close my eyes, relishing in the sober feeling of them. They’re just as I remember. I guess it wasn’t the alcohol making him seem like a good kisser after all. He steps inward and presses his lips more firmly into mine. It’s a sweet kiss, but it’s filled with depth. I don’t understand, but I also don’t want it to stop. I grab ahold of his shirt to hold him in place. He kisses me tenderly, over and over again until we hear his father clear his throat.
He pulls back and we stare at each other for a moment. Finn smiles and speaks to his dad without breaking eye contact with me. “Sorry about that. Every time I kiss her, it’s like the first time.”
“You two are so sweet! I’m so happy you found such a great girl,” Mrs. Walsh coos, squeezing me from behind.
The pathway clears and we walk toward the exit. Well, everyone else walks. I float, high on Finn.
