Page 242 of Ruin Me Gently

“No, I’m enjoying imagining you pulling something while trying to flex.”

When we reached the kitchen, I popped the fridge open, scouring for lunch. “If I don’t eat something in the next five minutes, I’m gonna die, and it’ll be your fault.”

He rifled through a cabinet, completely unconcerned. “Not my problem.”

I squinted, pulling out some leftover pasta. “You want some?”

He snatched the box out of my hand. “Obviously.”

“Excuse you?” I snatched the box back. “Mine.”

He raised a brow. “You didn’t even want it two seconds ago.”

“Yeah, but I do now. That’s how food works.”

I turned to grab a fork, but he reached over and stole the box again.

“Finn, I swear to God—”

“Relax,” he said, tossing it back onto the counter. “Jesus. You fight dirtier than Graves.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling out a plate. “Good. That’s the point.”

He didn’t respond as he leaned against the counter, letting the silence drag for a minute.

“Listen, I know you wanna throw punches and get strong. I get it. But I’m good for more than that, okay?” His fingers tapped against the bottle. “You’ve got me now. I know I’m new, but… I’m here. And you’ve got Red too. You know that, right?” He paused, watching me closely. “You’ve always got someone to talk to. I mean it.”

I dropped the pasta onto the plate and shoved it in the microwave, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

“Yeah? Because I’ve seen it before. People thinking they’re better off dealing with their shit alone.” He dragged a hand through his sandy hair. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

I frowned, shutting the microwave door a little too hard.

“There’s always someone here, okay?” he continued. “Always. Even if you don’t feel like talking—hell, even if you wanna sit in silence. I’ll be here. I promise.”

“God, you’re really laying it on thick, huh?”

His mouth twitched.

“Yeah, well…” He cleared his throat, straightening up a little. “I’m not losing anyone else. Not if I can help it.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go down. Anyone else? What did that mean? “Finn…”

“No, it’s fine.” His voice was gruff. “I just—look, I know what it’s like. Feeling like you’re on your own. Like no one’s gonna get it, or that it’s easier to keep it to yourself because talking about it is too fucking exhausting.” His fingers flexed on the counter. “I get it, okay? But don’t—” He stopped himself, jaw tightening. “Just… don’t do that. Don’t close yourself off like that.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even look at him. Instead, I pulled my plate from the microwave and stared down at it, picking at my food like it might somehow fill the ache swelling in my chest.

“I mean it,” Finn said, quieter this time. “I know I’m not Silas. I know I’m not the person you really want right now. But I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

I looked up. His eyes locked right onto mine. Hard, serious, and so damn sincere it nearly knocked the breath out of me.

“I’m here,” he said again, softer this time. “You get me?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I get you.”

“Good.” His smile returned, goofy and wide. “Because I’m not the guy you wanna deal with if I have to kick your ass for going all self-destructive, alright?”

Before I could respond, he reached over and swiped a piece of pasta straight off my plate “Are we eating or what?” he said, chewing obnoxiously. “I’ve only got so much emotional range in me per day, and I think I just maxed out.”

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