Jilted Jock - Rebecca Jenshak Page 0,41

miss him?

The fact that I felt guilty about it spoke volumes.

I’d used calling Richard as an out, but I decided it’s exactly what I needed. I needed to hear his voice, to remind myself how perfect he and I were together, and to tell him I’d spent the evening with Finn. Telling him not only felt necessary, it felt like absolving myself from the totally one-sided feelings that had crept in.

Inside my house, I could remember Finn was a friend in need that I was helping, but outside of it, just the two of us, we’d just been Adele and Finn and now I couldn’t unsee that version of us.

“Hello?” Richard answered speaking up but wherever he was – it was loud, and the background noise nearly drowned him out.

“Hey,” I spoke up. “Where are you?”

“I’m at dinner. We’re just being led to our table now. Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, of course. Finn and I were just about to have dinner too.”

“Great. Call ya later, babe.”

“Bye,” I said, but he ended the call before I’d finished responding.

So much for reassurances. I’d have to do that for myself. I straightened my shoulders and stood. Finn and I were just friends and I was being ridiculous. We were having a last dinner together before we’d likely never see one another again. It was funny really. Was I actually worried about something happening between me and Finn freaking McCash?

I showered, dressed for travel in comfy clothes that I could hopefully sleep in, triple checked I had everything, and then stood surveying my room for anything I might have missed.

A knock at the door startled me and Finn’s voice came as I held my hand against my heart. “Hey, do you have any matches?”

Matches?

I opened the door to find Finn holding a log of wood under one arm and a bag of marshmallows in the other. He smiled more shyly than I thought possible.

“I’m afraid to ask.” I followed him out to the living room. My fireplace hadn’t seen a real fire in as long as I’d lived here. I had candles inside and had only lit those a time or two. I grabbed a lighter I used for said candles and he motioned for me to set it down since his hands were full.

“S’mores, of course.”

I chuckled as he sat the firewood down and opened the marshmallows. He shoved one on the end of a metal skewer and handed it to me. “I didn’t have time to whittle you a proper roasting stick, but you can watch me start a fire like ole Bear Grylls.”

“Bear Grylls doesn’t use a lighter.”

“He sure as hell would if he had one. Survival tip number one, use the resources available to you.”

I sat on the floor holding my skewer in one hand and trying to teach kitty to sit while Finn grabbed the wood, cleared my fireplace of candles, and then got to work building a fire. I didn’t have much in the way of kindling, so it took some effort.

“Look, I think she’s getting it.”

“You can’t teach a cat to sit,” he argued without looking.

“Not a normal cat, but you can with Bengals.”

“There.” He stepped back and admired the fire. “I think it’s finally going.”

He grabbed the takeaway and drinks and brought it all over so we could eat by the fireplace. It was so cozy and intimate, and I wanted to be uncomfortable with it all, but I was enjoying it too much. Roasting marshmallows in my living room… my house had never seen this much excitement.

“Now, this is very important. How do you like your marshmallow?”

“Charred.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “Wrong answer. Light to medium is the best. Everyone knows this.”

“Nope, we’ll have to disagree on that. Respectfully, of course.”

We sat close together in front of the fire, holding our skewers with the marshmallows just over the flame. Kitty was between us, entranced with the fire.

“Light to medium may have to do, this skewer is getting hot.” I moved my fingers so I was just barely gripping the warm metal. It was getting hotter by the second.

“Oh shit.” He moved his skewer to his left hand and reached for mine. Warm fingers wrapped around it and he leaned closer. “I got it; you can let go.”

Holding my breath, pulse racing, I was temporarily rooted in place and forgot all about my burning fingertips.

“Adele?”

“Hmm.” I looked up into his confused face.

“You can let go.”

“Oh, right.” I scooted back so fast I startled kitty.