“You’re lucky I didn’t call Mom.”
“You wouldn’t!” Finn leaped off the bed at that thought. “Jake, swear you won’t tell Mom. I haven’t mentioned that anybody’s staying with me when we’ve texted.”
“I really should.” Jake sighed. “I mean, Tom? The guy who posted your texts in high school?”
Finn held her breath, hoping that Tom hadn’t heard Jake’s words. His face was neutral as he stood, grabbed his coffee, and left the room. Once he was gone, she returned her attention to her brother.
“Turns out, I misjudged him. Badly,” she said quietly. How bizarre, to have become Tom’s defender. “It was a weird coincidence that got us stuck together this weekend, that’s all.” Then a thought hit her. “Wait, why are you concernednow? I texted you Thursday night!”
Jake’s voice turned sheepish. “I, ah, didn’t see it until five minutes ago.”
“It’s Sunday, Jake!” Now it was Finn’s turn to sigh. “Let me guess. You’ve used this blizzard weekend to work nonstop, and you haven’t taken the time to check your phone.”
“Um” was all he offered in his own defense.
Finn had learned one thing growing up with a driven, perfectionist brother who’d worked every day of his life to lift their little family out of dire economic straits: the best defense was a good offense. Jake’s lack of a social life was the one thing he didn’t want to admit was less than satisfactory, and bringing it up was a low blow. But she had to do something to cut off the lecture about personal responsibility and good choices that she sensed brewing.
“You are aware it’s the weekend, right? And that normal people go home at five on Friday and then spend the next two days having fun with their friends? A girlfriend even?”
“I’m not having this discussion again.” His voice took on the brother-knows-best tone she hated. “You know I’m on the partnership track, and that’s what matters.”
“But is it wise to put everything on hold while you chase that sweet, sweet corner office?”
Sadly, Jake and his one-track mind couldn’t be distracted. “Let me talk to the guy.”
“Absolutely not.” Finn wouldn’t be budging on that.
“Fine,” he snapped after a brief silence-off, sounding exactly like the bossy sixteen-year-old he used to be. It made her smile. Workaholic or not, she missed him.
“At least promise me that you didn’t spend this weekend literally snowed inat the office.”
“Hey, would you look at the time? I really need to go.”
Oh,nowhe wanted to get off the phone. She’d bet everything in her bank account that he was sleeping on his office couch so he wouldn’t miss any useful working hours.
“Let’s get lunch once the snow clears up,” she suggested. Her brother would make time for her. Probably.
“Maybe in a few weeks,” he said vaguely, promising nothing. “And tell Tom that if he makes you cry again, I’ll break his fucking face.”
He hung up before she could respond, and she tossed the phone down on her bed with a growl. She loved her stupid brother, but his timing really sucked.
She grabbed her coffee off the bedside table and took a sip, discovering it was cooling as quickly as the feeling of Tom’s lips on hers. Man. What a waste of momentum.
And now she had to walk out of her bedroom and face him. What could she possibly say? No way did she have the courage to ask him to start up where they left off. Did she?
In the kitchen, she found him at the table, working at his computer.
“Yay for power,” he said drily. “I can get on with my edits.”
Finn blinked. He’d transitioned from starring in the hottest make out session of her life to fiddling with macroeconomic theories? That wasn’t good. Apparently the experience didn’t rate the same for him.
“Everything okay with your brother?”
“Yeah, he—”
But she was interrupted by a terrible sound. The most unwelcome sound in the world.
A snowplow.
