Page 135 of The Hot Shot
I close my eyes and bring my knees to my chest as if I can protect myself. Finn clears his throat but doesn’t speak.
“I should have called you.”
“I wanted to call you.”
We speak over each other, and he huffs out a small laugh before his voice lowers to something hard and tight. “You left me.”
A shard of guilt goes through my heart. “I said I was leaving.”
“But not like that. Not without saying goodbye.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It hurt, Chess. We deserved more than that.”
A lump swells in my throat. “I know. It was shitty.”
Finn doesn’t say anything for a long moment. But when he finally speaks, it’s a strained rush. “I took Britt out to dinner.”
Hearing the words from his mouth makes it more real.
“I saw pictures of it.” I lick my lips and taste salt. Another fat tear runs down the side of my nose, and I bat it away.
Finn makes a sound. “I was afraid of that.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay silent.
He sighs, long and tired. “I wanted you to hear it from me.”
A wave of dizziness comes over me, and I rest my head against the couch pillow.
“I’m trying to be her friend,” he goes on. “Like you suggested.”
As if he’s trying to appease me? I don’t feel appeased. I’m miserable. I swipe at my eyes. “That’s good. She needs a friend.”
That it’s the truth doesn’t make it any easier for me to picture them together. Silence descends.
“How’s work?” Finn blurts out, as if forced.
“Good. Great. Tomorrow I’m photographing The Avengers. Well, the guys, that is.”
A choked sound comes through the phone then abruptly cuts off. “Naked Avengers?”
I almost smile. “They get to hold their weapons. Iron Man is wearing his glove.”
“Oh, well at least his hand is covered,” Finn grumbles.
My lip twitches. But it’s not enough. Our easy flow is broken. And we fall silent once more.
When Finn speaks again, his voice is so low and hoarse, I almost don’t hear it.
Almost.
“I miss you.”
My heart kicks against my ribs, and I clutch the phone. “I miss you, too.”
Tell me to come home. Tell me you need me.
