Page 15 of Rules in Love
I held the phone away from my ear as Nate whistled. “Jesus, Nate. Can you try and keep it in your pants for five minutes?” This was yet another reason I wanted him away from Evie. Apart from being my best friend, Nate was also a complete slut.
“Fuck off, bro,” he laughed. “Just because you choose to live life as a monk doesn’t mean we all have to.” I had no comeback for that. One, because he was right, and two, because I didn’t want to. The phone fell silent, but I swear I could hear Nate sweating. The backpedaling began. “Shit. Sorry, mate. I didn’t think.”
“Nah, you never do, do you? I gotta go, Nate. Your niece is calling me.”
“Finny—”
I didn’t have to go. Iris was silent, but I was done with talking, my family, and thinking. Though, somehow, I knew my brain and its constant churning would be harder to silence than Nate was.
In the restless hours that followed, mental lists of jobs I needed to complete and weekend activities I could do with Iris were made. I read a little and decided I needed more exercise. Maybe that would help with some stressors, aid my sleep, and take my mind off the affairs of the heart.
While I may have chastised Nate for thinking only of sex, as night became morning and I cursed the freaking cats meowing outside my window, there was very little else on my mind.
Visions of Scarlett were inescapable. Palpable. I could feel her skin against my palm and smell sweet peas and violets on every shaken inhale. How could a woman I’d barely spoken to possess such power over me?
The stroking began without conscious thought but continued with my absolute knowledge. Christ, I wanted her to be there. To feel her hand or lips wrap around me. To pin her body beneath me. To trail my tongue down over that stomach, dip between those long fucking legs, and have them wrap around my ears. It was so real I could taste her sweetness.
“Oh, God. Scarlett,” I growled as I thought of everything I could do to that body. Of burying myself inside her. Biting down on her breasts and slapping her ass. My hips became frantic, wildly bucking into my imaginary Scarlett as we came, lay together, and drifted off to sleep. These visions continued, almost tormenting me with their realness until I found my own release. One part of my fantasy then came true. I fell asleep. But as always, I was alone.
Scarlett
If you looked at the collective history of Finn and me, one could almost believe we were fated to be together. But not twenty-four hours after I pledged,I’m ready if you are. Tomorrow, we begin, fate forced us apart. Ben had chicken pox, and I was stuck at home, trying to video-call Finn on my stupid laptop. Arthur had tried forcing me into a fancy, office-issued upgrade, but I loved mine. I’d had it since uni and knew every quirk andalmostevery trick to get around them. I also knew it was a piece of shit, but it was the first thing I had bought for myself when I left the foster system, and I couldn’t bear to part with it.
I could curse at it, though. And I was, all while looking fab in a lovely lemon chiffon shirt, stained red lips, and SpongeBob pajama bottoms. As far as Finn knew, I had a nasty case of strep, so I was talking an octave or two lower as well.
Once connected, there was no hi or hello, just a pair of shining eyes almost as wide as his smile, and the THUMP, THUMP, THUMP of my heart. “Scarlett, I, umm…everyone misses you. Are you feeling better? I hope so because it’s day one for Team Finlett. Or should it be Team Scinn? No, that’s not right.” He looked kind of edgy as he continued mumbling. The idea thatIcould be makinghimso nervous was ridiculous, but also undeniably hot, and full gushing commenced.
He is so bloody cute, and he misses me.Look how his curls sit behind his ear. Oh, and that little one right at his temple. Bouncing with glee. You are bouncing with glee. Stop it! This is business.
Pinching myself beneath the table was the only way to stop my fawning. “I’m getting there, thank you. And both names sound great, but how about we leave the nicknames for now and decide how we’re going to do this when we aren’t even in the same room.”
“Good plan, boss.” He fidgeted, tapping his pen against the table. “That’s why yours should go first when we do come up with a name. Ooh, what about Scarinn?”
I bit my fist in an attempt not to laugh but failed miserably. “This is serious, Finn. We need a plan. What can we do today and over the weekend to catch up?”
“Right, catch up. Right. Well. Let’s think about this. Hmm.” Finn adopted the classic thinking-man pose, elbow on the table, the weight of his chin resting on his clenched fist, cute pout. “I know. How about you do nothing other than get better, and I’ll continue going over our designs, comparing similar elements and seeing where we can incorporate each other’s ideas?”
“That’s very sweet, but I can’t keep doing nothing.”
“You can, and you will. The doctor said to take a week of rest, and a week of rest is what you shall get. I’m confident Team Farlett can come through.” He wriggled his eyebrows mischievously, then began to wave. “Goodbye, Scarlett. Go rest now. Talk Monday.”
Damn him for being so adorable and optimistic when I possessed so little of both. This really would have been easier if he was a pushy asshole. We’d effectively lost a quarter of our concept time to the application of calamine lotion to an eight-year-old he had no idea existed. I was the asshole. But for a reason.
Scarred by the prejudice I faced as a young single mother, I made the tough, maybe overly cautious decision to reveal Ben’s existence to only Jason Wright. People treated me differently when they knew I was a mum. It was something I hated and something that had carved a massive chip into my shoulder. Pregnancy in the first year of university thickened my skin to the slut-shaming barbs and stereotypes young mums faced, but I learned early that, even around a supposedly more mature audience, teenage motherhood carried a stigma.Unreliable. Unpredictable. Unworthy.
I’d felt safe telling Jason about Ben, as I learned during my video-call interview process that he himself had been raised by a single, teenage mum. I’d noticed a photo of a beautiful blonde on a sideboard behind him. Attempting to be chill and cool—which I was not—my big mouth said, “Is that your wife or girlfriend, Jason? She’s quite the stunner. In England, we’d say you were batting above your average.”
He looked at the photo and smiled. “Yeah, um, that’s my mom.” To this day, I could not believe he still hired me.
Out of necessity, our wonderful, slightly pervy HR lady, Jan, who seemed to be as big of a fan of Finn as me, knew too. As, of course, did Uncle Teddy. But the guilt of keeping Finn in the dark was gnawing away at my soul. Even if, much to Teddy’s disgust, I did nothing about my physical feelings for Finn—except continue having them—I liked him and didn’t want to lie even if through omission. He was silly and fun, and despite my reservations about the situation at work, I appreciated and respected that he, too, felt a need to prove himself. In all honesty, he could probably have pushed his aunt to get this job all to himself, but he didn’t. Something in my gut told me he was a good person. That I could trust him. And it wasn’t just that. I’d been hiding a huge part of me for over a year, and I was tired.
As I laughed at Finn, who was still on screen and trying to figure out how to hang up, it was decided. I was going to tell Finn about Ben. I just had to find the courage. And the right time. And make it through chicken pox.
Ben and I survived the weekend, though I was forced to stay at home Monday too, as his pesky pox were still itching away.
While, workwise, the timing of my absence was poor, for my heart and hoo-ha, it may have proved perfect. The recent decision by Finn to cycle to work on sunny mornings had sent a ripple of hormones through the office. For Teddy, the sight of Finn strutting past in his biking gear was too much to ignore.
Teddy: FINN IS SPORTING BIKE SHORTS AND A FUCKING MAN BUN. REPEAT. WE HAVE SHORT SHORTS AND A BLOND MAN BUN.
