Had there been a time when Tom hadn’t liked doing the dishes?
Possibly. But that had been before he’d stood in Finn’s kitchen with the weak Monday morning sunshine hitting his shoulders as he kissed her senseless against the sink while the spray from the water misted over both of them.
“You should always wash dishes shirtless,” she murmured against his lips.
“And you shouldn’t be allowed to wear pants when you’re indoors.”
His hands moved down to cup her ass, which was bare but for the tiny scrap of lace and cotton she called panties. Her hair was mussed from his fingers and her lips plump from his kisses. He’d never seen her look so undone, and he wanted to lap up every bit of the dishevelment he’d caused by making love to her all day yesterday.
She hooked a heel around his calf, giving him better access to her sweet center. “Thank God for electricity and heat. I’ll never take my ability to go pantsless for granted again.”
He bent his head and kissed her. She was in his veins now. Her taste, her smell, her laugh. He’d imagined it for years, and the reality had been even more intoxicating.
He slid his fingers under the edge of the material keeping him from where he most wanted to be, and Finn’s breathing hitched. He was so focused on finding her wet heat that he didn’t hear the key rattling in the front door or the squeak of the hinges as it opened.
“Hi, babycakes, what’s shaking? I caught an earlier flight, so— Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Tom and Finn both froze as the redhead in the doorway shrieked and covered her eyes. “I didn’t know you had company!”
For a moment, the only sound in the apartment was the water splashing in the sink as Tom worked to catch up with what was happening. It appeared that Josie was home, and she’d caught him rounding third base with her roommate.
Correction: hermortifiedroommate. Finn jumped away from him, her face going eight shades of red as she tugged on the hem of her shirt.
“Josie! I didn’t expect you back so soon!”
“Obviously n—Tom?” Josie’s eyes narrowed as she got a good look at who her roommate had been kissing. The shock on her face turned to confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s he still doing here?”
Josie’s confusion confused Tom. “Finn, didn’t you tell her?”
“That she hooked up with the guy I brought home from the bar on Wednesday?” Josie gave a disbelieving laugh. “I’d definitely remember if she had.”
Finn gestured helplessly between her and Tom. “No, see, he’s just…”
Her voice trailed off, and the warm glow inside Tom started to fade.
“I’m justwhat?”
“Real classy, Finn.” Josie stomped through the kitchen toward her room, her suitcase clattering along behind her.
Finn shot him a stricken glance before hustling after her roommate. “There was nothing to tell! He’s just somebody I knew from high school, and he got stuck here during the blizzard when—”
Finn followed Josie into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Tom could hear the rise and fall of their voices, but he didn’t need to stick around for specifics. Finn had used the wordjustto describe him a few too many times, and even if she was trying to keep peace with her roommate, she’d had days and days to tell Josie that he was still in their apartment. She simply hadn’t bothered. The old would opened up in his chest as he realized that yet again, Beauty wasn’t choosing Brains; she’d only been slumming it for the weekend.
Most of his belongings were already tucked into the bag he’d dropped by the front door yesterday, so he ducked into Finn’s room to finish dressing. Seconds after he stepped into the hallway wearing his own clothes, Josie burst out of her bedroom and stopped short, a sneer spreading across her face.
“Well, this has been enlightening. I’m going to shower the airplane off me while you two carry on with your not-at-all-weird encounter.” She threw a glance at Finn, who’d followed her out of the bedroom. “But if I were you, I’d be damn careful about what I texted him. You never know when he might be tempted to share again.”
All the breath left Tom’s body as Josie pushed past him to the bathroom, and he spun around to face Finn, who sagged against the doorframe, her face ashen.
“You told her?” He gripped his hair, barely able to speak for the tightness in his throat. “JesusChrist, I thought we covered this.”
“I didn’t expect her back so soon,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I’d have to explain things with you still here.”
She’d expected him to leave. She’d wanted him gone. The realization shouldn’t have blindsided him, but it did. His hurt howled to be set free, and he bit out, “So sorry to have overstayed my welcome.”
“It’s not that!” she cried, all traces of that morning’s carefree joy drained and gone. “It’s a big adjustment, okay? To go from thinking of you as the guy who humiliated me in front of the whole class to”—she waved a hand in his direction—“this.”
“This” told him nothing. He had no idea what “this” meant to Finn. He waited for her to clarify, but she fixed her eyes on the ground, letting her hair obscure her features. And suddenly he was right back where he used to be: the guy pining for the girl who’d never be his. He thought they’d put the past to bed, literally, but he’d clearly been wrong. The optimism that had filled the indentation in his heart drained away, leaving it hollow and aching again.
He paced to the kitchen and wrapped his hands around the back of a chair, willing it to anchor him to the spot so he could say what he needed to say. “Your text message, when you told me you wanted somebody who sees you?” He met her eyes and willed himself not to soften at the tears he saw there. “That’s me, Finn. It’s always been me, and all I’ve ever wanted is the same thing in return. This weekend, I thought we were finally getting there, together. But I was wrong. You still don’t believe me.”
