Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,41

to seeing people like Pepper and Finn as, well, just people, Finn wasn’t normal.

This was the real world.

This was Hollywood.

And, she couldn’t stop the small, insidious voice in her head telling her this is what men who were interested in her did. They turned to other women.

“We want to see Mr. Finn!” Ry said.

Well, shouted because Ry never just talked.

But that burst of words was enough to get Shannon moving. It didn’t matter that Finn had a woman in his house. It didn’t matter that she’d thought they were building . . . whatever it was she’d thought they’d been building.

Because clearly, she was wrong.

Yet, it didn’t matter.

It wouldn’t break her, she wouldn’t fall to pieces. She had a job and a place to live and a daughter who was awesome.

So, fuck him.

Fuck men.

Fuck letting herself be broken again and again and again.

“Come on, Ry,” she said. “We’ll see Mr. Finn later.” Where she’d tell him to go fuck himself because she was done with the opposite sex and all of their bullshit.

“Wait!” the woman said. “I—”

“I want to see Mr. Finn!”

Shan gaped for a second. Rylie never used that tone. Never. For one, she didn’t tolerate being talked to in that way. For another, her daughter might be loud, but she was perpetually happy.

Of course, her gaping had a negative effect.

One that meant Ry was able to use those few seconds to ramp up higher, to spiral further. By the time Shan closed her mouth and pulled back into herself, her daughter’s typically adorable face had clouded with fury.

“I. Want. To. See. Finn!” she yelled.

“Rylie Marie Torres,” Shannon snapped, using her combined powers of Mom Voice and Teacher Voice. “You will not speak like that.”

Rylie’s mouth closed with an audible click.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Shannon said, forcing herself to look back at the beautiful woman in the doorway. “We’ll be going now.”

“Wait—”

Shannon didn’t wait.

She’d seen enough, and now it was time to return to her regularly scheduled life. She’d gotten to kiss a movie star, that should be enough for her to hold on to at this time, right?

It was more than she’d ever imagined, that was for sure.

She took Rylie’s hand, started to leave Finn’s deck.

“No!” Ry yanked herself free. “No!” She darted for the house. “Finn. Finn!”

The woman in the doorway was shocked, her mouth dropping open, no doubt because a young child was hurtling toward her. But then she was pushed aside, and Finn emerged from inside the house, shirtless and looking rumpled, his eyes sleepy, his hair mussed.

Rylie hurtled toward him, throwing her arms around his waist and knocking him back a step.

His arms went around her, but his eyes stayed up, coming first to Shannon’s then to the woman next to him.

Regret on his face.

Fuck, that hurt.

But she kept her spine stiff, her chin lifted. This would be fine. She wouldn’t break. She—

“Shannon,” he said carefully. “This is my sister, Lexy.”

Hot then cold washed over her. Embarrassment crippled her, froze her in place, made bile burn the back of her throat.

His sister.

That was good, right? A logical, reasonable explanation for a strange woman in his house in the morning. But also . . . it undercut exactly how not ready for this she was. Her first thought had been Finn was cheating, and they weren’t even in an exclusive relationship—or they hadn’t talked about it, anyway.

Because it all came down to this.

Her believing deep down that she wasn’t worthy or good enough, and dammit she wanted to believe she was good enough, wanted it so fucking badly.

Why couldn’t she believe it?

What was wrong with her that she couldn’t?

Her eyes burned and she turned away, gaze on the ocean but not taking in the waves. She held the tears but didn’t want anyone to see how close to the edge she was. “Come on, Ry, we need to go.”

“No.”

More unexpected attitude. More teenage-esque tone. More . . . things to deal with later.

She heard the soft rumble of Finn’s voice then slow footsteps trailing across the deck toward her. Thank God, Rylie wasn’t going to require her to yank her away from Finn. She couldn’t handle that.

“Trauma.”

A male voice.

“It ripples outward and engulfs everything in its path.”

Her breath shuddered out. “Finn, I can’t—”

“Lexy took Rylie inside. They’re starting the French toast.” He slipped his fingers around her arm, gently turned her to face him. “You and I are going to talk about whatever it is that just went through your mind.”

“It’s nothing.” She forced a