The painful truth of those last five words seared him, as did Finn’s rapid breathing. “Ido. I was just trying to explain our history to Josie.”
“Our history.” He gave a snide laugh, reached into his pocket, and tossed his phone on the kitchen table, where it skidded to a stop in front of her. “There you go. Eight one six three nine three. Type it in and scroll through everything. Make sure I didn’t collect any personal information on you while I was here, given ourhistoryand all.”
She crossed her arms over her midsection and wrapped her trembling hands around her elbows. “No, Tom. I don’t need to—”
He snatched the phone from the table and unlocked it himself. He was acting like the asshole she’d always thought he was, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
“No texts since I don’t have your number, but you can’t be too careful around me, can you?” The words hurt to speak, but he pushed them out anyway, low and harsh. He opened his photo gallery with a furious jab of his finger, turning the screen toward her. “Here. See? Awful stuff.”
He selected an image and started scrolling one by one.
A shot of him and his buddy Sam at the bar on Wednesday night.
A shot of Finn’s street on Thursday evening, the snowbanks crawling up the sides of the building opposite her apartment.
A shot of flakes drifting past the streetlight on her corner.
A shot of Finn, wrapped in a blanket up to her ears on Saturday night during the power outage, peering out the window and outlined in silvery moonlight.
“Happy?”
She shook her head. “No, I—”
His hand clenched around his phone. “Fine, then how about this?” With a series of taps, he deleted all the photos he’d taken that weekend. They vanished with awhoosh, and fuck, if only he could empty his own memories as easily. She reached a hand out, maybe to stop him, maybe to encourage him to hurry out the door. He was too tired to care anymore.
“Tom, wait. Please listen.”
“No. I’m done.” He tugged on his coat and shouldered his bag, ready to put Finn behind him. Again. “Have a nice life, Huck.”
He stepped through the door and let it fall shut behind him with a heavy slam, taking grim satisfaction that at least this timehewas the one choosing to walk away.
Fifteen
Finn lasted fifteen whole seconds after Tom’s devastating exit before the tears started.
Somehow, through a few careless words, her whole beautiful weekend had collapsed. She’d been too flustered by Josie’s anger and her own unexpected emotional one-eighty to find a way to make him listen.
The tears came harder and harder, and the next thing she knew, Josie was there, damp from the shower, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and guiding her to the couch.
“Sit.” She pushed Finn down onto the cushions and draped a blanket around her. She disappeared briefly and returned with a glass of water, a box of Kleenex, and a pair of leggings. “Put some pants on so we can talk.”
Finn offered a soggy laugh at her roommate’s take-no-shit tone. “Yes, ma’am.” She pulled on the leggings, then sat back down to blow her nose and mop her face.
After a moment, Josie sighed. “So I guess I didn’t handle that very well.”
“Ya think?” Finn’s voice was scratchy from crying.
“But can you blame me? He was straight, single, and beautiful, andIbrought him home. How often do I hit the trifecta?” Her roommate tipped forward to wrap her hair in a towel-turban, craning her neck to peer up at Finn. “Except for your brother, of course.”
“Please don’t refer to Jake as beautiful when I’m around.” Any mild amusement she felt over Josie’s futile crush on her workaholic brother was swept up in another small sob. “I don’t know what happened.”
Josie tucked one leg underneath her and turned to face Finn. “Um, I happened. You clearly had some kind of major personal revelation this weekend, and then I came home and acted like a jealous bitch because…” She gestured helplessly. “I mean, I spent all weekend thinking about Tom! He’s hot. And he seemed nice.”
“He is. And he is,” Finn said dully, her stomach roiling at the memory of the fight leaving Tom’s eyes. She could actually pinpoint the precise moment that he gave up on her. “He looked sobrokenwhen he left.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. You told me you believed he didn’t do it, and then I went and let my redhead out.”
Act, then think. It’s how Josie always operated. Finn had borrowed a page from that playbook during the past few days, and look where it had gotten her. “It’s my fault too,” she said, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I didn’t tell you he’d stayed the weekend. And then I didn’t stand up for him. I made him feel unimportant when actually he’s so, so important.” Her head was too heavy for her neck to support, so she dropped it on Josie’s robe-covered shoulder.
