“Was it Spencer? I can come by and give him a wedgie if you want.”
“Are you drinking?” I ask, the teasing in my voice far more obvious than I intended.
Finn never drinks. There’s no reason for it, either. He’s just never been interested in alcohol, which would have been a massive score for me in college had I been big into partying myself. What college kid wouldn’t be excited about having a permanent designated driver?
“Har-har. No. I’m just feeling a bit protective today,” he states bluntly.
“Of me?”
“Who else? You’re the only one.”
I pause, my heart climbing into my throat. “The only one what?”
“Are you going to make me say it?” he asks, his voice dropping low.
“Yeah, I am.”
He chuckles, the raspy sound of it shooting down to my toes, making them curl in my heels. “Yeah, that’s my girl. You’re the only person I get like this for, Aubrey.”
“Your girl? That’s pretty assuming.”
I kick myself instantly, not meaning it.
“Did you think that last night meant nothing to me? That I’d willingly kiss you like that and have you writhing on my lap without wanting to have some sort of claim on you? You know me better than that.”
“Yes, I do. I’m not sure why I said that,” I say too quickly, feeling my body heat, both with the reminder of last night and the sheer embarrassment of stumbling over myself with Finn, of all people.
He’s the one person that I never stumble with.
Things are already so different. That’s terrifying for someone like me.
“I should have stayed last night so we could have figured all this out this morning. Instead, I let you spend your day convincing yourself how terrible of a decision this is, didn’t I?”
“What even is this?” I ask, nearly whispering.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Aubrey.”
“Finn—”
“I wasn’t finished,” he declares, and I bite my lip, shutting up. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and Ilikethat. What we did last night felt right. You know that as well as I do. I’m not sure what this is, exactly, and I know you’re not ready to put any sort of label on it yet, either. It’s new, though. And I’m feeling pretty confident in the fact that I want to do what we did again. And soon.”
I’m holding my breath. I realize that when my lungs start to burn and I push strained air out of my mouth.
There’s a rapid throb in my chest, trapped behind my rib cage. I repeat his words to myself, analyzing them like a weirdo before parting my lips around nothing, unable to speak. Everything sounds and feels too good. Like I should be preparing myself for the inevitable “gotcha!” to follow his declaration.
“You feel the same way I do, Bree. I know that because I knowyou. And that means that I can tell when you’re overthinking something without needing to be there to see your nose scrunch and fingers tapping on your thigh. This isn’t some court case, and I’m not one of the men you’re preparing to rip to shreds. I’m your best friend. I won’t let you run because you’re scared this is going to mess up our friendship.”
I curl my tapping fingers into the black fabric of my skirt and suck in a breath. “How are you not scared?”
“I am,” he admits, laughing tightly. “I’m just as terrified as you are. But I’m also too stubborn to let that fear keep me away from getting what I want.”
“And that’s me?”
My skin feels prickly and hot. The silk blouse I’m wearing suddenly scratches, and my skirt is too tight around my thighs,restricting my ability to spread them enough that I can try and ease the pressure between them. I press them together instead, but that makes it worse. A moan claws its way up my throat before I bite it back.
“Yeah, that’s you. And I’m as confident as I am stubborn. So, come to a concert with me this weekend. Not as best friends. Come as my date. We can see where it goes after that, alright?”
“I already know everyone’s going to that concert,” I say, my voice breathy.
