and his clear blue eyes are focused on the soap suds while furiously scrubbing the plate in his hand. He seems lost in his head, trying to solve what looks to be the world’s hardest algebra problem.
“And this was a good day, you say?” Finn questions, confused, trying to get more data to help him process what he just encountered—the mess that is my life.
“Surprisingly so. After her frantic call earlier today, I was sure to find her worse off. But I guess the bourbon helped.” I sigh, picking up an empty bottle and throwing it in the trash.
“Should she be drinking at all? I mean, won’t that mess with her meds?”
“Now you’re talking like a true Northsider. What meds, pretty boy? You think she can afford the good stuff?” I retort back harshly.
“It was just a question, Stone,” he answers softly, making me feel like shit for snapping at him.
“I know it was,” I huff out, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. “Are you almost finished? I need to get out of here and breathe some fresh air.”
“Are you still in the mood for dinner?”
“Yeah, I am. But I don’t think I can handle whatever fancy place you picked out. Mind if we go somewhere else?”
“I’m all good with whatever you want, Stone,” he replies with a little sparkle in his sapphire eyes as he dries his hands with a dishcloth.
I try not to read too much into it, and instead walk over to the cereal cabinet and take out the box of Raisin Bran. No one eats this vile stuff, so if my mom’s ex, Rhett, decides to pay her a little visit again, this will be the last place he’ll look for cash. I take out the last twenty-dollar bill from my purse and stuff it inside, so she at least has money for bread and milk tomorrow morning. From the corner of my eye, I see Finn going to his back pocket, taking out his wallet and grabbing a few bills, too.
“Stop,” I order, putting my hand on his chest to halt what he’s about to do. “I told you, I don’t want your money.”
He grabs my hand, keeping it locked and pressed against his beating heart, making me shift from one foot to the next, uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze on me.
“I know you don’t, but I’m not giving it to you. I’m leaving it for your momma,” he explains softly.
“Whatever,” I mumble, squinting my eyes at him, and take back my hand trapped on his grasp.
When I see him drop a few Benjamins into the box, my lips thin. I know my mother will go nuts when she sees all that cash but still doesn’t feel right. There are always strings involved whenever accepting such a generous gift. No one does anything out of the kindness of their own heart. That’s just not the world I live in. Everything comes at a price—even kindness.
“You ready to blow this joint or what, quarterback?” I ask anxiously, needing to get Finn out of my childhood home as fast as I can.
“Lead the way. I’ll follow wherever you go.”
“Sure you will,” I retort, unamused at his knight-in-shining-armor routine.
Finn doesn’t look even one bit perturbed that I’m not falling for his one-liners. In fact, he looks almost happy. He really is a weirdo.
“Keys,” I demand the instant we get outside.
“And who says I’m going to let you drive my car?”
“I do. Keys. Now.”
“And I’m the one who’s bossy? Woman, you invented the word.” He laughs.
“And don’t you forget it.” I smirk at him as he tosses me the keys to his beloved Porsche.
Sinking into the seat, I instantly love being behind the wheel of such an extraordinary piece of equipment. I can’t help the smile that splits my face when the powerful engine purrs to life. This is going to be fun.
Finn takes ages to set the passenger seat, trying to get enough room for his bulky legs. I’m sure he’s just stalling, worried that I’ll wreck his baby the minute we get on the road. I’ve never seen a man have such a hard-on for a car. I’m not sure if it’s a guy thing or a Finn thing, but honestly, I don’t care. Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity again to drive such a fast machine? I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth, that’s for damn sure.
“You ready?” I raise my brow.
“As I’ll ever be,” he replies, not convinced in the slightest.