Page 77 of Wood Riddance
I was the one who’d pushed him. Then I was the one who brushed him off and ignored his wishes.
My heart sank, and a rush of shame washed over me.
He deserved more. But could I be the person to give it to him?
Inside the house, He-Man was barking, so I let myself in, picked him up and peppered him with kisses, then took him to the backyard to do his business.
As I stood in my garden, surveying the blooms that had finally burst to life, the full weight of what I had done settled in.
I was a thirty-three-year-old woman, not a bratty teen. And yet I had acted like one. I had ignored him and frozen him out rather than communicating.
Exactly like so many of the assholes I had dated in the past had done to me. God, it made me sick.
Before I could stop myself, I was filling He-Man’s food and water bowls, grabbing my keys, and heading for the door.
Finn lived downtown in a narrow brick building. His apartment was above the bank, right above Dylan’s.
I parked out back, next to his truck. When I hopped out, I was assaulted by a strong, foul odor that hung in the air. I spun in a circle, searching for an animal carcass or some kind of toxic waste dump, but I found nothing.
When I righted myself and steeled my spine, ready to face my fate, I caught sight of the blazing lights in Dylan’s second-floor apartment. So I texted him with a request to be buzzed in.
A minute later, I was running up the stairs to the third floor and banging on Finn’s door.
Several minutes later, just as I was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t home, despite his truck’s presence in the lot, he grumbled on the other side of the door. When he cracked it open, he blinked several times, adjusting to the hallway lights.
“Adele?”
“Can I come in?”
He took a step back and opened the door wider. He was wearing nothing but a pair of sweats. His entire body was a work of art. Thick muscle and beautiful tattoos. His hair was pulled back, and I had the overwhelming urge to throw my arms around him and sniff his neck.
I held out the shirt he’d offered up at the bar. “I wanted to return this.”
Had I smelled it on the drive over? Yes. Was I proud of that? No. But his scent was as intoxicating as the sight of his body.
He crossed his arms, making things bulge and flex, and my mind went fuzzy. “You didn’t have to return it tonight. It’s almost midnight.”
I nodded, gathering my courage. “I’m sorry.”
He said nothing, though his eyes swam with hurt.
“I don’t trust a lot of people, especially men. And I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve been undervalued and tossed aside by so many guys over the years, yet that’s exactly what I’ve been doing to you.” I took a deep breath. Shit, this was hard. “So I’m here to apologize.” I licked my lips and held his gaze. “You’re a good person. You deserve better.”
He said nothing, his gaze stony. So, having said my piece, I turned to leave.
“I don’t want better.” His words were a whisper of a plea. “I want you.”
I stopped, still facing the door, willing my heart to remain in my chest. I wanted to walk out and not look back. But I couldn’t. Deep down, I wanted to be here. With him.
So I turned around, still hovering by the door, and surveyed him. I didn’t know what I was doing by staying. Was this what I wanted? Would it even work? Did I even care when he was looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world?
“You’re important to me,” he said, dropping his arms to his sides.
Mouth agape, I blinked at him, desperate to sort through my jumbled thoughts and figure out how the hell to handle this situation.
He came closer and cupped my cheek. “When I’m around you, I feel alive again. That feeling I told you about, when I’m in the cockpit? I’ve been chasing it every single day since I was a kid.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “And it’s exactly what I feel when I’m with you.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. That had to have been the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me.
