“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Finn answers with a smile. “It’s been on repeat the last few days. A hopeful battle cry, I guess.”
James continues to sing. The “if we let this moment end so soon,” lyrics hit me hard as I apply them to our situation and what Finn must have been going through the last week.
He cuts in before my tears can form. “And for the record, since we’re getting it all out there. I don’t have a few billion in the bank. After I officially formed the company, invested in this building, and shared with our early investors, including Trey — there wouldn’t be a company without him — I have a little over a billion. Give or take a few dollars.”
I scoff at his answer. “Of course, that changes everything. You’re so poor,” I respond flippantly and then feel bad. He's being serious and I’m throwing the situation back in his face rather than allowing him to explain.
“I’m serious. I didn’t set out to make money. I just had the right game at the right time. You have to understand I’ll never get another payout of those magnitudes. It will never happen again. Unless I decide to take the company public one day, our single source of revenue will be on game sales for programs we develop in house. I have no plans to go public and we like to unload most of our new products to larger companies to manage. It means we make less money than we could, but I’m not chasing a big payday."
Most of what he says makes no sense to me, but Finn actually sounds worried. As if I might judge him because he doesn’t want to own a sprawling company. “I guess it’s a good thing I loved you back when I thought you were a twenty-seven-year-old who played video games for a living and had to couch surf because he was homeless.” I smile across the counter at him.
“Nonsense, that’s all still true. I just get to do it from a comfortable couch rather than the futon in my parents’ basement or Ry's super comfortable bed.”
His personal use of the gamer living-in-your-parents’-basement stereotype makes us both laugh and lightens the mood. Finn and I have settled back to where we were five days before. It came easily, but I know we still have work to do before our relationship is completely repaired.
“So you’ll spend the night?” Finn asks as we step into his sprawling master bedroom. I wrap my hand around a post of his king sized mahogany bed. At any other time I would read more into his question, but I’m sure Finn didn’t ask it with those intentions.
The bedroom’s soft blue walls lighten the room enough that once again all the dark wood of the bed and other furniture doesn’t make the area look small. I walk to the wall of windows and look out. The lights of the city come to life as the sun continues to set in front of us. Each piece of metal glows as rays of orange hit the area below.
“Yes, but I’ll need to borrow clothes to sleep in.” I reach a hand up and almost press a palm to the window before I stop myself. I don't want to smudge his spotless view.
Finn’s shirt brushes against my back as he stands behind me. A deep shudder flows through him as we connect and I fit myself against him as closely as possible. He takes my hand and places it to the window surface, with his resting on top. “Smear it. Leave your mark here. One day I want this whole place to be full of your fingerprints.”
He leans in slowly and his lips are a slight touch on my tilted neck. “You have a wonderful view from each room.” I turn into him and rest my head on his shoulder. We’ve touched all evening, both of us needing the extra contact.
“The sunsets are wonderful from this room, but the rises in the kitchen aren’t too bad either.” Finn shifts a little as he steps from foot to foot. "For fear of ruining our moment, I have another confession to make.”
I can’t imagine what he could need to say, but then again I didn’t expect to be dating a gaming tycoon, so the options are endless. When I don’t respond after a few beats, he continues.
“I have a lot of closet space.” He stops and does a humorless chuckle. “Like a lot of closet space. Every day the empty areas laughed at me. I needed to fill them before I moved in.”
“Okay.” I draw out my reply still unaware of where he’s going with this.
Finn walks me to the closet door and swings it open. The left side of the closet has two rows of long sleeve shirts on the top rack and another row of jeans folded over on hangers below it — Finn’s daily attire. To the back I spot two or three suits before a wall of stacked shelves filled with tennis shoes and boots ends the space.
“So I purchased a few items for you to wear when you’re here.” He turns us to the right.
There the space is empty for the most part. A robe hangs on a hook by the door. At the end of the empty racks, another space for shoes takes up a portion of the wall. Three pairs of fuzzy slippers in yellow, green, and Giants orange are illuminated by the overhead lighting.
We walk farther into the closet where a large white square dresser takes up the middle of the space. He pulls open the top drawer a small amount. There’s a flash of pink before he closes it again.
“Um, delicates. We can look at those later.” His face turns a slight shade of red before he moves on.
I do my best to lift an eyebrow at him even though both come up.
“What? I had fun shopping.” He opens the second drawer all the way. “This is the important one.”
The drawer is deep. In three piles lay an assortment of fuzzy pajama pants. The first pair to catch my eye is an exact copy of the ones he sent me on Monday. The bright orange SF logo calls to me and I’m quick to grab them.
“Clothes?” I question.
Finn locks eyes with me. “I chose to be hopeful this week. I’m going all in with you, Aspen. This is my home run. I want to fill this whole place with your belongings. Bring over makeup and girly shampoo for the bathroom. Put some tampons under the sink. You want cute pink towels? I'll buy them myself.”
“You were pretty sure of yourself, Finnegan.” I slap at his arm, but can’t reply to his statement for fear I’ll turn into a sobbing mess.
He smiles and winks. “Remember, I had my heartfelt tears waiting in the dugout. You wouldn’t have been able to resist them.”
He doesn’t wait for my reply and moves back to the dresser. “Shirts are in the bottom drawer,” he motions with an arm. "Only short sleeves. I remembered your issue with sleeping and having anything on your arms.” He sounds embarrassed by his attention to detail, but it’s one of the traits I love about the man.
Pants in hand I turn and hug him again before I cry. No sane person cries over a pair of pajama pants. “Okay, out. I need to change.”
He looks down at me questioning if I’m serious. I am. I push Finn toward the door and wait until he shuts it behind him. I change fast not wanting to miss a minute with him. It’s barely nine o’clock, but I’m exhausted from all of today’s events. The whole week in general.
I leave the door open behind me as I exit the closet and find Finn already under the covers in bed. The television across the room plays sports highlights from the day. He holds the covers up for me and I slide in next to him, my head going back to my favorite spot on his shoulder.
Finn sighs and tugs me closer. “Are we going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I answer and mean it. One way or another we’ll make it.
