CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Noah
The elevator pings and stops at our floor. We step onto the landing. Finn and I drip water over the carpet, and Madison arches one of those thick, well-maintained brows that make it impossible not to notice when they’re moving upward.
“Marriage life seems to suit you well,” Madison says, her eyes dancing, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Though perhaps one of you could teach the other about umbrellas.” Her gaze narrows. “Maybe they don’t have them in your part of New Hampshire.”
“That’s enough, Madison,” Finn’s voice is cold and stern and scary, but I don’t know if that is leftover anger from his feelings toward me.
I slide my key into the apartment, while Finn speaks to Madison in the hallway. I don’t get far before Finn storms into the apartment. Rain slides from his face. He is angry and beautiful.
I swallow hard.
So we’re going to have this talk.
I raise my chin. “I can move out. We can say it didn’t work out. That happens to everyone. Or we admit it was a lie. Whatever the team management wants to do. Whatever is best for your reputation—I don’t care.”
Finn narrows the distance between us, and I can see the individual drops of rain sliding down his face.
Madison turns on some music in her apartment. I hear the faint sound of pop music waft around us. Can she hear this conversation? Has she known this whole time how fake this is? Is he going to slip into her apartment tonight and tell her he wishes he’d taken up her offer from the beginning?
I’ll go, and Finn won’t have to worry about me anymore. And that will be for the best.
I know better than to hope he won’t hate me. I know better than to hope any memory of me won’t cause his body to recoil. I know better than to think he’ll ever contact me again, that he’ll do anything now except fold his arms, tap his feet, and tell me to pack straight away.
Unless of course he wants to live in silence and misery, and if that’s what he wants, I’m up for that too. I am up for anything, absolutely anything that he wants.
Finn assesses me with a wry smile, then he kisses me. I sink into his arms.
I need to push away, but I am a weak man. I need to set him free.
Then Finn picks me up in his sturdy muscular arms and puts me on the kitchen counter. He unbuttons my shirt. My breath comes out in quick bursts.
“I don’t want you to talk about moving out.” He removes my shirt, his face still stern.
At another time I would tease him for not being completely hygienic and that kitchen counters aren’t for people, and he would assure me of Gabriella’s cleaning prowess and how she is ready for absolutely anyemergency.
But now I am silent, watching the man I love. His eyes flame, and maybe I have this wrong. Maybe he cares about me too.
But he is Finn Carrington, and I am Noah Fitzpatrick, and life is not nonsensical.
I let Finn unzip my pants, and I let him pull them down, removing them with my socks. I let him lift me up so he can slide off my boxer briefs, even though I hate myself, because I know where this is going.
And then Finn takes me into his mouth. I am not yet hard, but Finn’s mouth is warm and wet and wonderful and belongs to Finn. I expand in his mouth, filling it. Finn’s pink lips look perfect around my shaft, and I want to remember the moment forever.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
He starts to suck when he’s certain he won’t hurt me, bobbing his head up and down. He is spectacular. I don’t protest when he removes his mouth from me, because I was lucky to have his mouth on me to begin with.
“Did you mean it?” he asks.
“I think so.” My cheeks heat. “Maybe. This is so much better than I experienced, and maybe... I’m sorry.”
“I was taken aback,” he admits.
“I didn’t plan this. I don’t want you to think that I’m some clever fanboy who...”
He cups my cheek. “I know.”
