Page 109 of Player
That gives me pause. “You said I could trust you.”
“You can trust me to do what’s right for you. There’s a difference.”
I sit up in my chair, alarmed. “What are you trying to communicate here, Finn? What big lie are you alluding to?”
He sets his knife and fork onto the side of his plate. Looking away. Stalling. My heart sinks.
“I wanted to send you away with a wee bit of hope is all.”
“What?”
“The woman at the tortilla stand. I was going to disappoint you, so I fed you the lie to give you a wee bit of hope.”
“That’s just twisted. I was almost arrested.”
“What was the first thing you did after you left me?”
“I washed your come off my stomach.”
His jaw drops and a laugh escapes my lips.
“Cursed you to Ireland and back.” I pause in consideration. “Then booked a bus ride to Acapulco so I could speak with the woman at the tortilla stand.”
“Still, you were hopeful.”
I roll my eyes. “I was stupid.”
“No. You are intelligent and brave and everything a man could want in a woman.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Thing is, I’m a man who doles out disappointments like they’re carnival prizes.”
I wait for him to elaborate. But he picks up his fork and resumes eating, as if we’d been talking about the weather, as if our conversation hadn’t seeded any doubts about whether or not I can trust him. But I’m in likeFinnnow. Too late to second guess things.
“Okay.”
He stops eating. “Okay?”
“I’ll let it drop.”
“Thank you.”
“But I have another question for you.”
He visibly stiffens, bracing himself. Such a showman. “How old are you?”
“How old ...?” He doesn’t answer immediately, go figure. But after a few seconds, his eyes go wide. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“It’s my birthday.”
“What?” I jump up and move around to his side of the booth. “You didn’t remember your birthday? Finn!” I throw my arms around him and hug him close. “Happy birthday.”
“Easy there. Gonna give the ol’ ticker a heart attack by smothering me with those sweet breasts.”
“So?”
