“How long did it take you to learn how to calculate distance after the accident?” I glanced casually at the map on my phone in my lap. “Left at the light in about 200 feet.”
“A couple months,” he lifted a shoulder, following my instructions almost perfectly. “I was still able to judge speed pretty well. Just had to learn all the other tricks like shadow positions relative to time of day and such. Luckily, I’d already had some trainin’ there too, so it was just using a different set of instincts. Havin’ to shift is good.” He glanced at me with a wink, “though being told the distance helps too.” I grinned despite myself.
I directed him the rest of the way to my office. The parking garage was a bit of a challenge for him, but we made it. He left his sunglasses on the dash before climbing out as I slipped mine into my bag.
“Thank you,” his eyes were soft as he opened my door. “I haven’t had a chance to drive much since getting back.”
“Well, I enjoyed being the passenger for once. You’re welcome to drive her any time you want.” It was my turn to blush at speaking as if this would be a regular thing. Finn just smiled, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth as he locked and shut the door.
I took a deep breath. “I guess this is it? I’m going to have to tell them all you’re my boyfriend.”
“Geeze, way to make it feel special,” he took my hand as we walked out to the street. “Just think of this as a dry run for our families.”
“I might have to leave you with Lennon for a little bit while I talk to Oliver about some stuff.”
“All good,” he opened the door to the building, and we ducked inside. “Quick question though. Who is Lennon and who is Oliver?”
“Lennon’s our front desk person,” I called the elevator. “And sort of our HR department, I guess. Oliver’s my partner and co-founder.”
“Copy,” he nodded once as we stepped onto the elevator. I pressed the button for the seventh floor and leaned against the back. The box lurched before slowing with a concerning grinding noise and then lurching again. Color drained from Finn’s face as he gripped the railing.
“Oh, sweetheart!” My heart thudded in guilt as I reached for his arm, the term of endearment escaping naturally as I moved closer. “I’m sorry I should have warned you about the elevator.”
Finn swallowed, closing his eyes a moment. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I’ll do better next time.”
He didn’t say anything, but opened his eyes again, leaning into me. I slid my arm around his waist and held on until the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open again.
“Are you alright?” I looked up at him.
“Yeah,” he swallowed and nodded. “I just… I might need to hang onto you for more than our schtick.”
“Of course.”
He slipped his arm around my shoulders as we walked out, leaning on me the same way he had the night of the party. I glanced at my watch. 8:39. Not bad. Lennon was probably at their morning meeting with Kirsty and Tabitha.
Finn straightened as we stepped into the reception area, his grip on my shoulders loosening. I felt him go still beside me andfollowed his gaze to the corner where Dom’s life-sized character cardboard cutout stood, glowing sword raised dramatically.
“No fucking way,” the excited whisper escaped him before he caught himself. “Sorry, I—”
“You’re good,” I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face as I watched his expression shift from lingering anxiety to pure joy. “Want to say hi?”
He was already moving like he was on a critical mission, pulling out his phone. “Dom’s going to lose his mind. He complained for weeks about how many girls were buying this cut out and posting selfies with it like they were dating. It might have been the only time he was mad about becoming a meme.”
I chuckled as I leaned against the reception counter, arms crossed, watching Finn position himself next to the cutout like a photographer arranging a magazine shoot. He tried several angles, pointing at cardboard Dom, giving him bunny ears, going in for an awkward kiss. Each pose was more ridiculous than the last.
“Okay, one more,” he held up his phone for another selfie, face split in the most genuine smile I’d seen from him yet, his arm slung around the character’s cardboard shoulders like they were old drinking buddies.
The door to the left of the reception desk swung open. I turned to find Lennon emerging in a cropped trucker jacket covered with vintage band pins. They stopped short when they spotted Finn, eyes widening as they took him in.
“Great Gatsby, is that the divorced dad of two?” They hissed, pointing at Finn with a long ring-clad finger. “Because if that’s him, I’m changing my answer to yes, absolutely. Who cares whose fault it was.”
My ears heated. “Lennon, this is...” I glanced at Finn, testing. Would he step up to the performance, or leave me hanging? “This is Finn. He’s—”
“Her incredibly handsome and charming boyfriend,” Finn supplied smoothly, pocketing his phone and extending his handtoward Lennon, his performative confidence sliding into place. “And you must be Lennon.”
Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by a spark of competitive energy. If he was going to commit to the bit, the least I could do is match him.
