Finn met my eyes. “Yeah.”
We’d crossed that line before—but this time, we were sober and aware, daylight washing around us. No alcohol to soften the edges, no blackout, no leftover adrenaline. Just us.
I stood, hummingbird pulse flapping in my throat, and held out my hand. He took it.
We veered a few steps into the trees, where the lake slipped behind a veil of green and rusty yellow. Close enough to hear the splash of stones and kids that egged each other on, far enoughthat it felt like a blanket of privacy. I walked him back against the tree, hooked my fingers into his collar, and tugged him into a kiss—slow,thorough, his mouth parting for me with a sweet little noise I felt all the way down to my toes. God. Polyester crinkle of his jacket under my fingers, his hand curled warm against my hip, his mouth wet and slick, deliberate. My thumb brushed over a hint of stubble just below his jaw that he must have missed this morning.
“Jesse,” he murmured, just my name, low and nearly lost between our mouths, as if it meant something all by itself.
I framed the curve of his jaw. “Finn.”
Ridiculous, Jesus. I’d never gone stupid and weak-kneed over a guy, trading names like prayers. “He must be something special.”Shane’s words from what felt like years ago, stirring faintly in my brain. I let them pass, nudging a thigh between Finn’s to press closer,closer. He pulled me in and angled his hips, teeth nipping at my lower lip, hands gripping tight.
Leaves rustled.
Just a normal forest sound, a bird or a mouse stuck in a nearby bush, but… Fuck.Reality check.We weren’t exactly safe behind a closed door. Finn slowed our kiss, or maybe I did—flowing like water, mouths catching more lightly now, breaths going long and easy. Eyes closed, foreheads touching. A breeze cooled my cheeks.
What were we doing? Sharp like the screech of a PA system—bad idea, whole fucking career on the line, what the hell iswrongwith you?But I’d known all that when I’d asked him to join me today.
“This is still a really bad idea,” I mumbled.
“Yeah.” His breath was warm. “But it’s getting harder to remember why.”
Painfully true.
My heart fluttered like a dumb cliché. I opened my eyes to find him watching me already, blue gone a shade darker, lashes stuck together in one corner, maybe from when he’d slept in the car. He looked braced for a fall, only his mouth still tilted soft and hopeful, and—fuck. I’d asked him to come. I’d already made my choice, hadn’t I? He was a risk I wanted to take, a lie I was ready to tell.
“I’ll have to submit your evaluation,” I said. “After the twins. Then your rotation’s done.”
“Right.” His eyes searched mine. “You’ll be free of me then, huh?”
I shook my head, smiling. “Not how I’d put it. No, my point is that I’ll be fully done supervising you after that.”
A beat. Yellow sunlight spun into patterns while he studied me, heavy like the weight of gold. Then he ducked his head, mouth curling up faintly at the corners. “Okay,” he said quietly.
“Okay,” I echoed.
It tasted like a promise.
SEVENTEEN
FINN
The drive back was quiet. Not bad quiet, more the kind that reminded me of my childhood—returning home after a day spent on roller coasters and water rides, a friend and me dozing in the backseat while my dad drove and my mom chatted quietly to keep him awake.
When I shared the thought with Jesse, he slid me an amused look before focusing back on the darkening road, traffic thicker now than it had been in the morning. His hands were sure on the wheel, competent, and I wasn’t sure why it made me flash back to the way he’d worked me open, the blackout night when I’d followed him home—slow and thorough and so,sogood.
His voice pulled me back into the moment. “You sayin’ my company is just as thrilling as riding roller coasters?”
Yes or no? Yes.
“Maybe I’m saying I want to ride you all day.”
Too much? A couple of my exes had accused me of that—no filter once I trusted someone, subtlety left on a hook by the door, jokes that lacked class.
Jesse swallowed visibly, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Jesus, Finn,” he said, a touch raspy. It didn’t sound like a bad thing. “I’mdriving.”
I grinned. “So I’m distracting?”
