I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Jesus Christ."
He adds, "You didn't show up to the gym. Again."
Finn paces with more fury rolling off him. He seethes, "You don't vanish unless shit's gone sideways. So enlighten me, Brax. What the hell is going on? Did someone come after you? Did someone threaten you? Are we at war? Because you sure as hell didn't—" His eyes snap toward the kitchen.
Shit.
Valentina stills in my T-shirt. Whipped cream is still on her nose and collarbone. Her hair is just as wild as before.
Finn's head tilts like a wolf catching movement in the dark. They stare at each other.
"Good morning," she says sweetly.
His eyes turn to slits. He spins back toward me and stares at my chest. His gaze lowers, and he looks at me as if he's just realizing I have whipped cream all over me.
"Listen, I'm sorry I missed the meeting. It won't happen again," I declare.
His gaze narrows further, and he peers at Valentina.
Tension explodes.
Her face turns red, and I slip between them.
No time like the present.
"Finn, this is Valentina."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me. You missed a meeting to get a piece of ass?" he says through gritted teeth.
Anger hits me. "No. She's not a piece of ass."
He turns toward Valentina. "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm pissed at Brax. I'm sure you're a nice—" He freezes, then his face pales. His hand lifts, shaking. "What is that?"
"What?" I question.
He lunges toward Valetina, grabs her hand, and snarls, "That!"
Fuck!
I step between them, pushing him away from her. I warn, "Finn, calm down."
"Calm down?" His eyes blaze red. "You got engaged?"
I don't say anything.
He scowls, then pins his gaze past my shoulder and back on Valentina. A few seconds pass, then he pushes me aside. His voice comes out lethal. "You're Valentina Abruzzo. Aren't you?"
Her lip shakes. She nods and answers, "Yes."
I step between them again. "Back off, Finn."
"Back off?" Finn shouts. "Back off? You're half naked with an Abruzzo in your kitchen after ghosting your entire family. And you asked her to marry you? Are you insane? Are you cursed? Did you hit your head? Are you?—"
"We're not engaged, we're married," I interject.
Finn staggers back like I stabbed him. His eyes widen.
My stomach twists. I quietly offer, "I'm sorry you're finding out this way."
