Chapter FIFTEEN
DURING THEcar ride the night before, Finn had been quiet. Mitch thought it could be because Mitch’s actions when he threw Finn to the ground made the guy uncomfortable. Mitch gripped the steering wheel tighter as he tried to push the memory away. All day he’d been on tenterhooks as he waited for the other shoe to drop. But Finn hadn’t said anything about it, not this morningin the car on the way to work—although that was probably because he spent most of the journey on the phone with Rocky—and not for the hour or so they were in the car heading back to Finn’s place. Mitch took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at Finn. He was huddled in the passenger seat, curled in on himself. He held one hand against his head, shielding his face from Mitch’s gaze.
Shit! I just wish he’d say something and get it over with.
Mitch had prepared his lines, his spiel about the adrenaline rush and the natural reaction to having his dick thrust against a hard surface. Oh Jesus, and what a hard surface it was.Nope, not going there. Mitch just prayed they could get the awkward discussion out of the way. At least then he’d know what he was dealing with. The way heand Ross saw it was Finn would either accept the explanation and move on, or he’d chuck a wobbly and get rid of Mitch. But surely if Finn were going to do that, he’d have already done it by now. Rocky hadn’t reacted any differently to Mitch, and neither did any of the other brothers. So what on earth was going on with Finn?
Mitch pulled into the drive of the ramshackle house. Usually Finn gavehis goodbyes and jumped from the Range Rover as soon as they pulled up. But not this time. He just sat there, unmoving. The interior of the car was dim, but Mitch couldn’t see Finn’s face anyway due to the position of his arm and hand.
Oh well, someone’s got to do it, and it may as well be now.
He took a breath and prepared to kick off the much-dreaded conversation, but the small groan fromFinn stopped any words he was going to say.
“Finn? Are you okay?”
Finn moved slowly. He lowered his hand and turned his head to look at Mitch. Mitch could see the grimace in the low light.
“Headache. I’ll be okay. Just need to lie down.”
Finn’s voice was hardly above a whisper, and Mitch strained to hear over the rumble of the idling engine. Finn fumbled with the door, flinching when the interiorlight of the car came on. He went to exit the vehicle, only to jolt back when the seat belt held him firmly in place. As Finn fumbled with the buckle, it was obvious something was definitely wrong.
“Hold on.” Mitch threw the Range Rover into Park and turned off the ignition. He flew around the car, arriving on the other side just in time to catch Finn as he tumbled from the car. Finn relaxedinto his arms for a moment before putting both hands on Mitch’s chest and pushing upright. Mitch gave him the space he needed but prepared to catch him again should he fall.
Finn didn’t protest when Mitch walked beside him to the house. He didn’t argue when Mitch took the house keys from his shaking hand and opened the door. “Alarm?”
Finn nodded and moved to the panel on the wall, where thankfullyhe entered the numerical code with no issue. Mitch trailed behind Finn as he made his way through the darkened house to the kitchen. Once there, Mitch stopped in the doorway as Finn opened the fridge. He left the door wide open without reaching inside. Instead he moved to the kitchen counter and opened one of the drawers. He withdrew a bottle of pills before pouring a glass of water directlyfrom the tap, using a glass from the drying rack, then took both the pill bottle and the glass of water to the small table. Finn’s movements were slow, and it was if he was unaware of Mitch’s presence. For a moment Mitch tossed around the idea of quietly leaving, but when he saw Finn struggling to open the small bottle, he moved forward instead of retreating. He dropped to his haunches at Finn’sside.
“Here. Let me do that.”
Finn looked up from the bottle and blinked a couple of times before holding out the pills.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“How many? Two?” At Finn’s nod, Mitch passed over two of the little pills, noting there were only two more left in the bottle.
Finn threw them back with some water before staggering to his feet.
Mitch stood, bringing them close together. He lookeddown into Finn’s face, and even in the dim light of the open refrigerator, could see the strain around his eyes and the tension in his features.
“Migraine?”
“Yeah. I get them every now and then. I just need to go to bed, and I’ll be right in a few days.”
“A few days?”
Finn nodded again, grimacing at the action. “Most likely. They usually last two to three days. Sometimes only one, if I’m lucky.”
Mitch resisted the urge to reach out and touch Finn although the impulse was strong. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. I just need to sleep. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Mitch said. There was no way in hell he was leaving Finn stuck all the way out in the boondocks when he wasn’t feeling well.
“You don’t have—”
“Like I said, I’m not leaving. So how about we get you settled into bed, andthen you can tell me what else you need.”
Surprisingly Finn didn’t argue. He just left the room and headed in the direction of the bedrooms. Mitch moved to follow, but not before he fetched a fresh glass of water. The glass Finn had used was chipped, so Mitch left it in the sink and opened a cupboard to look for a new one. Empty. He tried a few more doors until he came to a cupboard that helda single glass, a few mugs, and a small pile of mismatched plates. He ignored the prickle of confusion at the mostly empty kitchen, took the glass, and filled it before grabbing the pill bottle. He closed the fridge door on his way out, plunging the room into darkness.
