“Fine, but I want to make it very clear that I don’t believe in love at first sight,” he says, very seriously. I give a nod. “When I got to Pearl that night for my sister’s birthday, I said hi to her and walked over to where Ella and Ham were. Ham was already leaving, so I turned to say goodbye to him and I saw you.”
“I saw you when you walked in,” I admit.
“Oh, really?” He brings his hand up and bites the tip of my pinky before he sucks it into his mouth. My gasp stays stuck in my throat. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he sets my hand down again, but he lets go when some of our food comes.
“What did you think when you saw me?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “What do you think I thought?”
“That I was the sexiest, most alluring man you’d ever laid eyes on?”
“Oh. Wow.” I laugh, serving myself some lobster mash. “You are way too full of yourself. Please continue the story.”
“You caught my eye right away. The hot pink dress you were wearing, which was fucking sinful by the way,” he says, dropping his voice. “I lost count of how many times I jerked off to the image of fucking you in that dress, remembering the sounds you made and the look on your face when you came.”
“Finn!” I whisper-shout, looking around quickly.
He leans forward, eyes burning with desire, as he reaches out and sets his hand on my forearm. His long fingers cover it as his thumbs brush over my pulse point, which is racing.
“If we were sitting in a booth,” he says, his eyes briefly dropping to my parted lips. “I’d take care of you right now.”
“Please stop,” I whisper shakily, shifting again.
He lets me go and sits back a little, a smug look on his face. My heart is still racing and my hands are shaking, as I reach for my water.
“So you thought I looked hot,” I say when I set down the glass.
“Obviously, but it was more than that. It was your mannerisms, your smile, that fucking laugh that lights me up inside, the way you looked at people when you spoke to them, like they mattered, and…” He frowns. “I wanted you to look at me like that.”
“People always look at you like that,” I point out, serving myself another spoonful of food.
“Not like that. Not the wayyoudo,” he says quietly. I look up from my food, my heart skipping for the millionth time. “People have conversations, but they don’t listen. You listen.”
“And … you wanted to fuck me because I listen?”
“No.” He laughs once, like it’s ridiculous, and shakes his head the way he does when he’s genuinely at a loss for words. “I couldn’t stop looking at you. I think I was unknowingly trying to lure you over with my eyes, but you never looked. Then Gracie came over with her usual Gracie bullshit?—”
My stomach tightens. “Which is?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but tell me anyway,” I say.
“She tried talking shit about you and got mad when I defended you even though I had no idea who you were,” he says. “I mean, Mal had mentioned you, but I, like most people, don’t listen.” He pauses. “Except when you talk to me.”
I smile. “You don’t have to sweet talk me, Finneas. I’m going home with you no matter what.”
His eyes darken. “Do you want to box this up so we can go?”
I laugh. “No! Finish the story!”
“I finally went up to you, which was nerve-wracking, by the way?—”
“No way!”
“Do you know how long it’s been since I approached a woman?” he asks, frowning. “Fuck, I can’t even think of a time when I did that.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, Finn Barlow, God’s gift to women. Please continue the story.”
