Page 27 of Persuaded

“I’m heading to Sean’s. I can give you a ride.”

Water dripped off the end of Joshua’s nose and he shivered in the freezing rain. “That’s not necessary. It’s not far.”

“Just get in the damn car, Josh.” Finn’s fingers clenched and relaxed on the steering wheel. “Look, you’re letting the rain inside. Would you just get in?”

He supposed it would be childish to refuse. Maybe Finn had decided they could be adults about this after all? “All right then,” he said and pulled open the door, slipping into the passenger seat. The window rolled up next to him, cutting off the sound of the rain. Inside, everything was quiet. Not even the engine made much noise as Finn pulled away from the curb and onto the empty road.

From the corner of his eye, Joshua watched him. Finn’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his shoulders tense. “So what happened to your piece of crap car?” he said at last, throwing Joshua a quick sideways glance.

“It’s fine,” he said, bristling at the insult on principle. “I just prefer to walk.”

Finn snorted an unamused laugh. “You’re a crap liar, Josh.”

He didn’t answer that; Finn was right and Joshua had nothing to add. Instead he looked out the window at the wind-blown trees and the slushy rain building up at the corner of the windshield.

The car slowed. “You need to tell me which way,” Finn said.

Because, of course, he didn’t know where Joshua lived anymore. He tried not to feel embarrassed about their relative wealth, his fall from grace. It wasn’t like he’d earned any of the privilege he’d grown up with and he felt proud of the fact that he supported himself now, that he wasn’t beholden to his wretched family and their shady business dealings. Still, Finn probably lived in some kind of Hollywood mansion and Joshua’s rented cottage would look extremely modest by comparison.

“Josh?”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Turn right here and then take the second right after that. Sandy Lane.”

“I remember Sandy Lane... Always made me think of a lounge room singer.”

Joshua huffed a laugh before he could stop himself and it hovered between them, a painful echo of the connection they’d once enjoyed.

The turn signal ticked, the car ghosting silently through the rain. Expensive, Joshua thought, probably Sean’s. Finn would never own something this corporate. He wanted to ask what car Finn drove now, but it felt too much like something friends would talk about and he and Finn... Well, they weren’t that.

Finn slowed the car and turned onto Joshua’s street. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, the air filling with the sense of words hanging, of everything being unspoken. Joshua didn’t know how to break the silence, or whether he should. He cleared his throat. “It’s just here, on the right.”

Pulling over, Finn squinted through the windshield at the little cottage. Joshua had left a light on, glowing through the swaying branches of the silver maple out front.

“That’s it?” Finn said, like he couldn’t believe it.

Joshua stiffened. “Go ahead and gloat”—he reached for the door handle—“I don’t care.”

“What?”

He started to get out. “Thanks for the ride, Finn.”

“Hey.” Finn grabbed his arm, stopping him. “I wasn’t gloating.”

Joshua said nothing, his attention snared by the feel of Finn’s hand on his arm. It felt electric, even through the layers of his jacket and sweater.

Letting go, Finn flexed his fingers. “I was gonna—” He cleared his throat. “If you need to borrow a car tomorrow, you could take Sean’s. He won’t mind.”

Nonplussed, Joshua said, “What do you mean?”

“Your car’s a piece of shit, man. The tires are half bald. You shouldn’t drive it in this weather, even if the damn thing does start in the morning. So you can borrow Sean’s car.”

“I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.”

“But I thought—Your family’s in New York, right?”

Joshua stared at him. “Well, my father’s in Gowanda Correctional Facility. It’s in upstate New York, if that’s what you mean. But I don’t think they offer Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I meant your brother,” Finn said, tight-lipped.

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