Page 80 of Chaos

Blowing out a breath, I roll my shoulders back, giving myself a second before starting to turn around only to pause halfway as his reflection catches my gaze again.

The same way I’ve caught his gaze, evidently.

He stares at my back. Not the fading bruise like I first assume, but the whole expanse of skin bared by a flimsy camisole. Shoulder blades, the length of my spine, the patch of skin between where my top ends and my sweats begin—I feel those dark irises as tangibly as I would the twitching fingertips balled at his side. “What?”

His gaze lingers a second longer before meeting mine. “You’ve got good posture.”

I… Jesus, I don’t know what to do with that. “You give the weirdest compliments.”

Those broad shoulders lift and fall, that dark gaze glimmering. “Figure I gotta use the easy stuff on you first before I get to the heavy hitters.”

“What, you think I’m gonna keel over if you call me pretty?”

“I think you should be deeply offended if I ever call you justpretty.”

A sharp breath. Silence.

And then, “See?”

“Still on my feet, aren’t I?”

Finn lowers his chin, looking at me like he knows damn well how unsteady I suddenly feel.

Slowly, I turn around, trying so very hard to look nonchalant as I prop my elbows on the dresser, cock my head to one side. “What would you call me?”

He hesitates for a beat, thinking. “Haven’t found a word for it yet.”

“That does not sound like a compliment.”

He just smiles.

Ignoring my indignant huff, he toes off his shoes before dropping down beside Grouch, scratching behind her ears while snagging my laptop from where I frustratedly tossed it earlier after yet another knitting tutorial failed me. “Wanna watch a movie?”

No. I want to know what the hell he would call me. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I do. I sure as fuck won’t be able to sit still.

Yet I nod anyway. I sit beside him anyway,rightbeside him.

And fuck, if I don’t cackle whenPretty Womanstarts to play.

20

For half of the second movie, she falls asleep with her head on his shoulder.

For half of the second movie, he doesn't move an inch.

“Excuse me.”

One foot out the door, I look over my shoulder and frown at the oddly expectant expression painting my roommate’s pretty face. “What?”

Eyes wide, Yasmin tugs at the rolled cuffs of the denim jacket she shrugs on. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the stables.” My gaze flits to the stairs. Footsteps are going to thunder down them any minute, and I really, really need to be gone before they do. “I’ll see you later.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

My frown deepens. “Coming where?”

“To Sally’s,” Yasmin names the local farm that runs a pumpkin patch this time of year. “Finn didn’t tell you?”

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