CHAPTER 41
Gianna
The best thingabout joy is that it makes you forget the pain of yesterday, makes it fade so slowly that you barely notice it. The tire brushes against the gravel as I bring Finn's car to a slow stop in front of the abandoned building, our abandoned building. It only feels right to end such a beautiful night here.
"You didn't have to drive, you know," Finn says as he unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car. A second later, he's by my side, already opening my door.
I glance up at him, smiling as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "You've had too much to drink already," I say, slipping my hand into his and letting him help me out. He closes the door and reaches into the back seat, grabbing the bottles of champagne and a blanket we managed to find at the greenhouse.
"I'm fine," he says, handing me a bottle. "There's space for more."
I laugh softly and take it from him.
He brushes a loose curl from my face, lets his finger linger for a second, then tugs me gently forward toward the house. We walk to the door like we've done a thousand times before, except this time we're here as a married couple. Finn pushes the rusteddoor open, and it groans so deeply I wince. "One day it's going to fall off," I mutter.
"Makes it easier to get in," he grins.
The stairwell is dark, but familiar. Each creak under our steps echoes up the hollow wall until we reach the rooftop. As soon as I push the door open, a fresh breeze brushes across my face like an old friend.
I close my eyes and let it in. It is so clean and relaxing. I inhale deeply, the air so crisp it practically hums in my lungs. For a moment, I almost moan from the relief. But that calm quickly becomes chill as the cold bites into my exposed skin. Maybe I should have rethought my outfit before coming here, remembering how Rina and Elena made sure I changed into it."You need to look hot."Those were Elena's words, and the dress was also a gift from her. I rub my hand against my arm in a weak attempt to warm myself. Finn notices immediately.
He drops the bottle and blanket in his hand to the floor, the soft clink of glass echoing faintly in the open night air. Then he takes the bottle from my hand and places it gently beside the other. "You're cold," he says, his voice threading with concern.
He takes off his jacket without hesitation. Then he steps behind me. My breath stills as his fingers sweep my hair to the side, gathering the soft curls and letting them fall over one shoulder. His palm brushes against the back of my neck, and his touch sends shivers down my spine.
He repeats the process as his hand trails up my arm, slow and deliberate, like he's learning my skin again for the first time. I'm not sure if it's the cold or his touch anymore, but shivers run down my spine, spreading to the rest of me. Every inch he covers wakes something inside me—a flutter, a heat, a pull that goes deeper than physical.
And then, his lips touch my shoulder briefly, but enough to steal the air from my lungs. My entire body becomes stiff,holding on to that single second like it's glass, afraid it might shatter if I even breathe wrong.
"You smell so good," he murmurs, the words grazing my skin like velvet as he trails soft kisses from my shoulder to the nape of my neck. His breath is warm, his lips even warmer.
My eyes flutter closed. I lean into him, needing more, craving him like a secret I never want to confess aloud. He kisses his way back to my shoulder, and just as my body arches towards him, seeking more, his touch disappears. I almost protest. Almost.
He senses my frustration and kisses my head. "We have all the time in the world, beautiful."
He drapes the jacket over my shoulders, gently hugging it closed around my body like he's wrapping me in him. I clutch the lapels and hold on, grounding myself in the scent of him.
"You taste good," he adds, with a grin that borders on wicked before clearing a space near the edge of the rooftop. He spreads the blanket out with a bit of flair, as if making a bed beneath the stars. "This way, my love," he says, gesturing like a gentleman inviting his queen to a private throne.
I can't help the chuckle that slips out of me. "You're ridiculous," I say, but the smile in my voice gives me away. I slip off my heels, one at a time, letting them rest by the bottles of champagne. My bare feet touch the blanket, and I sigh at the softness beneath me. Finn joins me a moment later, but not before expertly popping open a bottle. The cork shoots into the night, and the champagne fizzes up.
He takes long drinks directly from the bottle, his throat working in slow pulls, before passing it to me. I take it, my fingers brushing his on purpose, and lift it to my lips. The champagne is sharp and cold, bubbling down my throat and settling warm in my chest. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand, unbothered by elegance tonight, and hand it back to him.
We sit in silence for a while, watching the city from up here. All those glowing lights so far away make the world look smaller, like something we could hold in our palm if we just reached out far enough. It is peaceful and beautiful. That's why we love it here. Finn and I keep drinking in silence, taking turns with the bottle like we did back in college. Passing it between us with the ease of old rhythm.
I break the silence first. "It's always so peaceful up here."
"Yeah," Finn replies, leaning back on one hand. "That's why we love to come here. Our world is too chaotic, and this was the closest to something peaceful for us."
I nod, moving closer until our bodies are pressed side by side. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he leans into it. "Do you think our wedding will reduce the tension between our families?" I ask, knowing the answer probably isn't as romantic as I want it to be. Knowing old feuds don't just heal with new vows.
Finn doesn't answer right away. He breathes in deep, letting the silence stretch between us. "It should. But it won't happen in a day," Finn answers, drinking from the bottle again.
He's right. I just hope it happens quicker.
"What did you and Liam talk about?" I ask, throwing the question out there. Finn's been acting a little off, more protective than usual, and I don't buy that everything is fine.
He turns to me, searching my eyes for a second, like he's deciding whether to tell me or not. He drops the bottle on the ground. "When I told you I went to Costello Motors, it was a lie. I went to see Liam."
