He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m not a genius.”
“You went to one of the most competitive schools in the country. Forengineering. That’s—” I kissed him again, harder this time. “That’s really hot, actually.”
“Is it?” His smile pressed against my mouth.
“Devastatingly.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “I’m recalculating everything I thought I knew about you.”
“And?”
“And I’m apparently even more attracted to you than I realized, which seems unfair.”
“Unfair how?” He chuckled.
“You’re already—” I gestured vaguely at all of him, then at the space between us. “You’re already everything. And now you’re telling me you’realsobrilliant? It’s excessive.”
“Excessive,” he repeated, clearly amused.
“Completely. But I’ll allow it.” I brushed my lips against his. “And in case it isn’t clear, I choose you.”
“Good,” his voice went rough with emotion and desire. “Because I’ve been choosing you for months now, even when I was too scared to admit it.”
I kissed him again, pouring all my gratitude for his patience and gentleness into the soft press of my lips against his. Tomorrow we’d figure out everything else. Tonight, we were just Alex and Finn, officially real, choosing each other and the promise of whatever came next.
Chapter 29
This is just a Monday
Finn
I woke to empty space where Alex should have been.
Not startled—just aware. The bed felt different without her beside me, and there was soft light seeping under the bathroom door. I checked my phone—three-sixteen.
Quiet sounds filtered through the door as I moved toward it. Not distress exactly, but discomfort. I was worried she was trying to keep from waking me.
“Alex? Everything okay?” I called softly.
“Yeah,” she answered after a beat, her voice slightly strained. “Just... give me a minute.”
Another soft sound that decidedly wasn’t okay. I moved closer to the door. “Sweetheart—”
“I’m fine, I just—” Her voice cracked slightly. “Fuck.”
“What do you need? Can I come in?”
“No… please,” she sniffed.
“What do you need?” I swallowed.
“There’s a bag in the top drawer of the dresser. Black with pink trim,” I heard her take a deep breath. “Will you get it for me?”
I turned on a lamp as I moved to the drawers she’d unpacked into. The small bag was right at the front—I unzipped it to double check before taking it back to her.
I knocked softly on the door. She opened it a sliver and I pushed the small bag through the crack.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Give me a minute and I’ll be out.”
I pulled the door shut and moved away to give her more privacy, pacing back and forth in front of the beds. She’d probably need more supplies, judging by the scant amount of product in the pouch. I dug through my bag for ibuprofen and grabbed a small bottle of water from the minifridge. I heard the toilet flush, door open, and then the water running. I walked back over to see her scrubbing her hands furiously, face blotchy from crying. Hair was falling out of the bun she’d put it in before bed. She glanced up at me in the mirror.
