Page 85 of When We Lied


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I let go of my hair and stand up straight. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, as he closes the distance between us. He brings his hand down, his long fingers fanning the back of my neck as he runs his calloused thumb over my cheek. For a moment, he just gets lost in staring, and my stomach dips repeatedly. He brings his lips to mine in a slow, lingering kiss that makes a million butterflies take flight deep in my belly. When he pulls away, he sets his forehead against mine and exhales.

“Thank you for helping me,” he says.

My heart swells. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words. I swallow the knot in my throat and will the tears from forming again. I nod, moving both our heads. We’re quiet as we finish drying off.

He picks up my jumpsuit and shakes his head. “I was looking forward to stripping this off you.”

I laugh and open my mouth, but I shut it quickly. What am I supposed to say? You can do it another day? Despite all of this, I’m not sure what to think. I put on the underwear and oversized t-shirt I’d left out earlier, and start blow-drying my hair, trying not to ogle him when he whips off his towel. He pulls on a pair of black briefs and tosses a gray t-shirt with the Owls logo over his shoulder. I know I don’t own one of those yet.

I frown. “Where’d you get that?”

“My apartment.”

“When did you…” I stop myself from finishing, when I realize he must have gone up while I was crying on the bathroom floor. Still, why would he… “Oh.”

Does he mean to stay here tonight? I hope he knows sex is out of the question. Between my headache and the exhaustion from the day, I just want to sleep. I look away from him and keep drying my hair, but in the mirror, I see him put toothpaste on a toothbrush I’ve never seen. My heart skips. He’s definitely staying. I switch off the blow-dryer and study the puffy mess that is my hair. I hatesleeping with my hair in my face, so despite my headache, I pull it into a loose bun at the top of my head.

“Did you take something for your headache?” he asks.

“How do you know I have a headache?”

“You hissed and flinched when I was washing your hair and applied too much pressure.”

“Oh.” I feel myself frown. He really pays attention. “I’ll be fine. I just need to close my eyes in a dark room.”

He smiles and my heart stops beating. “Lucky for us, we just need to turn off the lights.”

I don’t respond, because I know my words will be a stuttering mess. He grabs the t-shirt on his shoulder and pulls it on as we walk toward the bed.

“I’m not having sex with you,” I say, meeting his gaze warily.

“I’m offended that you thought I’d expect you to.”

“I…” I shake my head and release an exhale. I can’t do this right now.

He waits for me to pick a side of the bed before he walks to the opposite side and gets in and under the covers like this is normal. My heart pounds as he switches off the lamp on the nightstand. The bed dips as he moves until he’s behind me. I get on my side and let him wrap an arm around me and pull me against his chest. I don’t move for a moment. I don’t breathe. With the darkness enveloping us, I find my words.

“Finn?”

“Hm.” It’s a rumble against my back, a breath against my neck.

“What is happening right now?”

He chuckles, a deep sound that slithers through me and grips my core. “I was under the impression that we were going to sleep.”

I elbow him lightly. “You know what I mean.”

“I thought we should finish our conversation in the morning since I made you cry and you have a headache.”

“But … why are you here now?”

His arms tense around me. “Do you not want me here?”

It’s dark, so it doesn’t really matter, but I turn around to face him. “I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised.”

“I want to be with you.” The conviction with which he says it takes my breath away. He kisses my forehead. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk more about why I’m here in a few hours.”