Page 63 of Manhattan Tormentor

“Ah, fuck, look who it is.” He whispers and my head snaps up expecting to see a smirking Finn in the doorway, but it’s not. He’s so late and I’m getting pissed off. If he didn’t want to meet me, he should have told me no, instead of having me sitting here like a fucking tree.

The group of girls walking in has Thatcher in a spin. He has a thing for one of them.

“Talk to her.” I push.

“Are you kidding? She’s a goddess, an angel, the perfect woman. You don’t walk up andtalkto a goddess.” His green eyes widen like saucers even as he stares at Camilla Dragna, infatuation in his stare. The boy has it bad.

He’s never been what you’d call a player. But he’s never been short of a date until he started liking this unattainable girl, as he calls it.

She has a powerful dad, don’t most of us? It’s not like we live in the poor side of Manhattan. Thatcher is more than matched for any girl, but it’s this dark-haired Italian girl that has my friend pining.

That’s how the next ten minutes go.

And then I see him.

My heart ramps up in my chest, remembering every little detail of last night.

Because of the Fierro ambush this morning, I was unable to give it proper thought, but I do now. I feel every thrust and kiss from him as if experiencing it all over again and my dick jerks in my shorts.

He looks harried.

Distracted.

Gorgeous, as he adjusts his black ball cap and then his eyes finds mine.

It is immediate electricity zipping between our gazes. But the moment he sees Thatcher at my table, his features close off and he shakes his head to me. His eyes scanning the café. Probably to see if any of his crew are around.

I know then he has no intention of coming inside. Likely that he does not want to be seen talking to me in public. Another cruel blow.

Finn shakes his head to me, turning to leave just as fast.

Air inflates my chest with fury.

As Thatcher goes on talking, oblivious to my mood change, I’m typing out a message.

Sage:What gives?

Finn:I can’t.

Finn:This isn’t good timing.

Sage:Can’t what?

Sage:Can’t be in public with a queer?

One minute and then five. No reply comes.

And that’s answer enough for me.

I let my head hang low from my neck for a second to feel the bitter disappointment coating the inside of my mouth.

I knew this would happen and still I let it. I flung myself at it, for fuck’s sake.

I’ve been attracted to straight guys, and gotten a few curious glances back, but my hard rule is not to get involved. They’re still straight after their fleeting dip on the queer-curious side. And I’ve never lived my life straddling the middle ground.

I know who I am and what I want

FinnfuckingMaverick should never have been an option.

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