“I think we should probably carry it on for a little longer,” he insists and I do nothing more than stare at him. “We stop now and word gets back to him, he’ll know. Plus I’m having too much fun hanging out with you, Soph.”
“We hang out all the time anyway, so what would be so different?”
“This.” Finn pulls me in a little closer, and I can feel his breath on the side of my neck. “And this.” His lips skim over the side of my neck and again the chills return. “This too.” He kisses along the side of my neck, over my shoulder and pauses, breathing in.
I am at a loss, unsure of what to say.
What does one say after all that?
“Plus, ole boy’s buddy came in right before us.” I am jolted out of my lustful haze when his words register. Pulling back I look over at him and he jerks his head slightly to the side. I glance over and sure enough Ryan’s best friend is there at the bar watching.
My stomach tenses and not because of him. No, it’s because every action that was just played out, the movements and words I thought were honest and intimate, were all for show.
This, it is nothing more than a show!
I shouldn’t be mad about it. I shouldn’t feel hurt, but I do. This was exactly what I’d hoped to avoid. My heart getting mixed up in the game.
The thing is this whole charade was supposed to make me feel better. It was supposed to build confidence in me, but honestly I feel worse now than I did at the start. Because for once I had a guy that was amazing, a guy that gave me hope, but it was all fake.
All of it is a lie.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Finn
“It’s a great place.”My father hands me the flyer and I lean back in the chair looking over the listed items. “The backyard is a nice size, the privacy fence is new. You could walk to the store, right out the back fence and less than a block to the left.”
“You should have become a realtor, Pop,” I tell him, smiling as I continue to look over the flyer.
“Nah.” He waves me off. “But Martin and Joyce are looking to downsize, and now that Melanie and Tim just had their first baby, they are wanting to be closer to their grandbabies.”
I nod.
“I can’t say I blame them. I’m wondering when the day may come that I might have some grandbabies of my own.”
“Now you sound like Ma.” I look up from the flyer. “Nagging about marriage and babies, you going soft on me?”
He chuckles and ignores my question.
“You can’t raise a family in the tiny little apartment above the bakery.”
“Gotta have a woman first, then I’ll be thinking about a place.”
“That place right there won’t last long,” he assures me. He’s not lying. I remember walking Melanie home after our eighth grade winter fest dance and her father waiting on the porch. We’d gone to the dance together as friends, our parents being close, we’d grown up together. It is a nice place, a good family home.
I look at the back, seeing for the first time in a long time a few pictures of the inside. Its original charms is still there, and I get all nostalgic as I scroll over each one.
“I know my illness has thrown a wrench in a lot of things, Finn.” I glance up to see my father now sitting up, watching me. I can see the emotional pain in his eyes. “I hate that you and your mother have pretty much had to halt your lives to take care of this sick old man.”
“Stop,” I tell him, feeling my chest grow tight.
“No, I need you to listen to me.” It irritates me when he acts like he is a burden. He is my father and I know if the tables were turned he’d do everything he could for me.
Clearing his throat, he continues. “My treatments are over, and when I go next week for my scans, we’ll know. We go sit down with the doc, she’ll lay it all out. What comes next, where we go from here, and all that. But one thing is certain, one thing doesn’t change either way. You are my son, and I love you, but you gotta let go of the hate you feel. You need to let go of this anger you have, because it doesn’t change a thing. The only thing it can change is the man you are. That is the last thing I want. I need you to live, Finn. I need you to stop putting everything onhold for me, because watching that, knowing it’s taking place, it breaks my heart. I need you to live.”
I look down at the flyer again, only this time I don’t truly see it. Instead I do all I can to fight the emotions coursing through me.
“So maybe I am going soft,” he adds with a chuckle and again I look up to find him casually leaning back against the couch cushions. “Maybe this illness has put things into perspective and reminded me of what is truly important. And maybe I’d like to see my son married with kids.” He shrugs.
