“Be nice.”
“I thought I was being nice.”
He smiled down at me. “Yes, you were very, very... nice. The fucking nicest.” For a long minute, he hugged me hard. “Can you come over to my place tomorrow night after class? Or are you on call?”
“I’m not on call.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “Will you stay the night?”
Hugging him back I said, “How can I pass up that king-size bed?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chessly
It was aftermidnight by the time Finn and I had dressed again and I’d walked him to the lobby. Before he stepped out into the night, he wrapped me tight in his arms and kissed the hell out of me. When I headed past the front desk in the direction of my room, the front desk clerk gave a low whistle, and I flipped him the bird. But my face was so hot, I was sure I could have fried bacon on it.
Too keyed up from my unexpected reunion with the great big guy I didn’t see coming, I decided I owed him the courtesy of reading his texts. Flopping back on the bed that now smelled like him and us and sex, I closed my eyes for a minute, gathered my courage, and opened the text screen.
He’d started texting immediately after I left the lounge in the Union that awful day.
Finn: Chess! I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin sorry. I didn’t mean it.
Finn: Please believe me.
Finn: Can we talk? Please?
Later that same night he wrote:
Finn: I was a dick. Tell me off or whatever you need to do. I deserve it. But please talk to me.
The next morning he said:
Finn: Chess, you have a right to be mad. I said a terrible thing. I didn’t mean it.
Finn: You’re not her.
Finn: Please.
For the rest of the week, he’d sent more texts with various iterations of the same message, his desperation becoming more intense as the days wore on. The second week the tenor and content of the messages changed, as though he’d resigned himself to me dumping him, but he couldn’t stop hoping for a different outcome.
Finn: I miss you so much.
Finn: I fuckin MISS YOU.
Finn: Guess you’re not hanging out in the Union anymore?
Finn: Looking for you in Hillman.
Finn: I can’t help it. I look for you everywhere.
Finn: The graduate geek has had your carrell every single day this week.
Finn: Jesus. I miss you so much. Is it possible for a literal hole to open up in your chest? It’s a question of physics only you can answer for me.
Every word I read made my heart hurt until I had to check my chest for the bruise that must be covering it. Tears spilled over, blurring the screen as I read the texts that had come in during the afternoon before he showed up at my place.
Finn: The geek stopped laughing at me today. Guess I’m that pathetic now.
