Page 102 of The Boss I Can't Stand
He looked at me, that once icy gaze now full of fire. “I’ve realized there’s beauty in that,” he said. “I don’t care if the pieces aren’t perfect anymore. They might be messy in ways, but the best things in life usually are.”
“Do youreallythink that?” I asked, my voice catching.
He reached out his hand. I took it, letting him brush his thumb over my knuckles. “I’ve spent my whole life being afraid of what would happen if I let anyone see what a mess I was inside. I put on a mask, working to project that I lived in this bubble of perfection. I focused so much on what wasn’t real that I lost myself along the way.AndI lost the person who meant the most to me in the world. I see that now, and I don’t want to keep living that way if it means losing you.”
A sob shot up my throat, my voice thin. “Finn?—”
“I know I’m not perfect, Sierra. I have things I need to work on, habits I need to let go of. But I think I’ve finally realized that my brothers and I…my mom…we’ve all grown up now. I don’t have to hold it all together for everyone anymore. Sure, there are going to be complications and messes and difficulties going forward, but that’s just life. And I don’t have to plan or script my way out of living it. I want my life to be messy and imperfect—and real.”
“So, what?” I asked, watching the ways the candlelight played off his face, resisting the urge to stroke my hand along the strong line of his jaw. “No more Mr. Bigshot?”
He nodded, catching my face between his palms. “No more Mr. Bigshot. I’m ready to embrace the imperfections and the mess. I want to be the man you deserve. Because you mean the world to me. I meant what I said on that stage, Sierra. I love you. I’m sorry I let you down, but I swear I’ll do better.” The corner of his mouth tipped up as he inclined his head toward the sculptures. “And I hope you can find it in yourself to accept me even with my cracks.”
“You want me to take another chance on you?” I said, my heart breaking open as tears welled in my eyes.
He nodded. “Flaws and all. And if you do, I promise to spend every day showing you just how much you mean to me.”
I sank into his arms, meeting him for a breathless kiss. “I love you, too.”
He squeezed me tightly before pulling back just enough to give me a cheeky grin. “More than RevX?” he asked.
I groaned and laughed as I whacked his chest playfully.
“I won’t let you down again,” he promised, kissing me once more.
“Good,” I whispered against his mouth, the kiss turning fiery as he dragged his lips across my jaw and down my neck, making his way to my pulse point. I moaned, and we stumbled against a table, rattling that perfectly imperfect pottery. “Maybe we should move this somewhere…”
“Less risky?” he said.
I caught my lip between my teeth, nodding, and Finn turned, blowing out the candles.
We moved in the fluttering darkness like we had never unlearned each other, and I sighed in contentment as Finn stretched out over me on the bed, one single candle left burning on the side table.
“God, I missed this,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple, my ear, burying his nose in my hair as he ran his hand along my bare hip. We’d lost our clothes all around the condo as we’d blown out the rest of Brenna’s candle trail before finally making our way back to the master bedroom.
A sharp meow cut through the air from beyond the bedroom door, and I couldn’t help the laughter that exploded out of me.
“I think Lord Meowington has many things to say about me being back in your bed,” I said, feathering my hand through the short hairs at the nape of Finn’s neck. His deliciously strong body pressed me into the mattress, and I shifted, rolling my hips against him, desperate for friction.
“He’s trying to be a cockblock,” Finn said, and I yelped as he pinched my backside.
“More like trying to guard his favorite sleeping spot from the interloper he thought he’d gotten rid of once and for all.”
“Nope. He missed you,” Finn whispered, curling his arms around me as his condom-clad cock dragged through the wetness gathered between my thighs.
I moaned, shifting again, desperate for more. Desperate to have him inside me.
“He would bite me every time I went to bathe him. He even destroyed his favorite sweater that Grace had given him.”
I snorted with laughter over those ridiculous sweaters.
“He spent weeks in the spare room pacing,” Finn continued, deliberately not giving me what I craved. “I think he was waiting for you to come home.”
I pressed my hand to his cheek. “I did come home.”
“You did,” he agreed. “And I’m never going to let you go again, Cinderella. No riding away in your pumpkin carriage this time.”
“It doesn’t get great mileage anyway,” I joked.
