Every Breath You Take (Oasis Book 1) (12 page)

“Relax,” Finn whispered, stroking my cheek.

So I did. Even with emotion thick inside, I relaxed and felt myself slipping away.

() () ()

His hands were around my throat. I clawed at the fingers that cut off my air, but they were too tight.

“You’ll never leave me. Never!”

My eyes flew open, and he was still there, leaning over me. Mark. His hands on me, murder in his eyes.
We’ll be together. Forever
.

“No!” I shoved the figure in front of me, and then tried to scramble to my feet, completely disoriented. Where was I?

“Charlotte–”

I shoved again and turned, falling off a bed and to the hardwood floor. My breath left my lungs in a rush and I scurried to my feet. He was around the bed in an instant.

A scream lodged in my throat as I held up my hands to ward off the large shadow in front of me. “Don’t touch me.”

“Charlotte, it’s me. Finn.”

My hands shook. His words poked logic into my brain. I backed up and swallowed. “Finn,” I whispered.

My eyes adjusted. I was in my bedroom, cowering beside the large dresser. Finn was in front of me, arms out like he’d trapped a wild animal and he wasn’t sure how predictable it was.

It was late and dark. I searched for the alarm clock and read 2:30 am. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone,” Finn said. He opened his palm. “Come here.”

My feet wouldn’t move. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. “I thought you were someone else. It–” My throat closed.

“A dream,” Finn said. “It’s okay, Charlotte. It was just a dream. I’m here. Come on.”

I shuffled forward, settling my hand in his. He pulled me to the bed. The covers were only pulled back on one side. Where was he sleeping? On the couch?

Climbing in, I choked on words. “I’m sorry, Finn. I didn’t meant to push you.”

“Shh, it’s fine. Can I stay in here with you for a bit?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

He lay down next to me and pulled me close, my wet cheek against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t apologize.” His low voice rumbled in his chest, soothing me.

It was quiet for a long moment, the only sound our breathing. Finn’s was steady, in and out, low and smooth. Mine was ragged, choppy.

“How long?” Finn asked.

“What?”

“How long have been having the dreams?” I shifted against him, but his arms tightened. “They’re not going to go away if you don’t deal with them.”

I thought I had dealt with them. “I haven’t had one in months,” I whispered.

“Did you have them a lot before that?”

Almost every night. But I only nodded.

Finn’s arm squeezed tighter. “Would you like me stay in here?”

“You don’t have to.”

He brushed a tear off my cheek. “I’m not asking for you to give me an out, I’m asking if you want me to stay. For you.”

No. And yes. I wanted to get past this on my own. But I was afraid the shadows would come back. That I’d forget where I was again and the fingers would close over my throat and I’d panic.

“Yes,” I said. “Please.”

“Of course.”

It was that simple for Finn. Of course. But not for me. So I lay there, listening to his breathing and trying to force myself to go back to sleep even with shadows lurking all around me.

Chapter Ten

When I woke blurry-eyed the next morning, Finn was in the kitchen cooking. He wore sweats and a T-shirt, with a jacket zipped over the top. When had he left? And when had he had the time to shower?

The whole night was a blur, except for the dream. That was crystal clear in my mind. Every detail, down to Mark’s hands. I could still feel them on my neck, squeezing until the edges of my vision went black and my limbs went weak.

My fingertips traced just above my collarbone, where I’d once had horrible bruises the size of Mark’s fingers.

Finn turned with a plate of toast and saw me. He smiled, but his eyes dipped to my hand. I dropped it to my side and said, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he returned, walking to meet me where I stood.

A part of me shrunk away from the contact. I wasn’t used to being so close to people.
Or
having them in my house.

Finn’s throat moved in a swallow, and he brushed a simple kiss on my temple before stepping back and keeping his hands to himself. He looked like he wanted to say something. That he’d seen me tense up, maybe. That it bothered him because he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d lay a hand on a woman–and I knew he wasn’t–but it was habit. And I felt vulnerable after last night. Like I’d made a mistake. A mistake I wouldn’t have made if I’d had my head on straight and kept Finn where he was supposed to be.

In my past.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, turning to the kitchen.

My stomach twisted. “I’m not sure.”

“Have a seat. You can take your time.”

I sat at the counter and eyed the spread he’d made. Toast, eggs, bacon, potatoes, pancakes. “You made all this?”

He grinned, reaching for a glass and pouring me orange juice. “Coffee too?”

I nodded.

“Yes, I can cook.”

I sipped the orange juice. “I know you can. But you don’t.”

“I was up early and after I showered, I needed something to do.”

Shifting in my seat, I said, “You could’ve stayed at home once you changed.”

“I didn’t go home.” He grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. “I had someone bring me a bag, and I used the shower in your spare bath.”

And I’d slept through all of it. “Who brought you your clothes?” I tried a smile. “Leslie?”

He lifted his eyebrows at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just trying a little early morning humor.” I rubbed my hand over my eyes. “It’s not working so well.”

“It’s not so early either,” Finn said.

I winced. He was right. It was nearly 10:00, and I was still in my pajamas. This wasn’t unusual of the old Charlotte,
or
the old Finn. But staying in your pajamas with someone else is different.

I missed those days.

“How about a little of everything?” Finn started scooping items on the plate. Heaping spoonfuls like I hadn’t eaten in months. He had to use a separate plate for the pancakes because it wouldn’t all fit.

“Finn,” I started.

But when he looked over, so hopeful and so…open, I couldn’t say anything about it. Instead, I said, “I can’t believe I had all this in my kitchen.”

He flashed me a smile before setting down the plate. “Not all of it.”

“What?”

“My housekeeper brought a few things when she brought my bag. But I swear I cooked all the food myself.”

“You’d better eat some of the food yourself, too, or this is all going to be wasted.”

He obliged by getting another plate before sitting next to me at the counter. I swiveled in my seat some, taking in the clear, blue sky outside and reminding myself that this was Saturday. I had the whole day. It might do me some good to get out.

I squeezed my hand on the fork at the flicker of unease in the pit of my stomach. What if Mark was out there? What if…?

Finn nudged my elbow, and I almost dropped my fork. “What?” I asked. “Did you say something?”

He frowned. “Charlotte. I think–”

“We should eat.” I forced a smile. “Before it gets cold.”

Finn was about as enthusiastic about his breakfast as I was about mine. When his phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my seat. He reached out to steady me, and then seemed to think better of it and stood instead.

“Sorry, I need to get this,” he said.

I nodded and focused on my plate. He stood in front of the window, eyes taking in the view. Far less impressive than his, but still nice. “An hour will be perfect,” he said. “Not far, but we’ll need you on hand just in case.”

When he hung up and returned to the seat next to me, I pointed at him with my fork. “See? I told you you should have gone home. You have things to do.”

“
We
have things to do.” He used his fork to point at me. “So eat up.”

I straightened in my seat. “What do you mean? I was planning…”

“What?” He ate a bite of potatoes. “Staying in? Going out? Shopping? Whatever you want.”

“I didn’t–I don’t–” I got up. Making plans with Finn was…like old times again. Like a relationship. That thrilled me and terrified me at the same time. “I’m not sure what I was going to do. Maybe go for a walk.”

“Perfect,” he said. “We’ll do that. I have a driver coming. He can take us–”

“Finn.” I shoved my hands in my hair as I felt my control slipping. This was always what Mark used to do. Make plans without me, expect me to be there. Expect me to be ready. I hardly ever had a choice. “This isn’t working.”

He turned in his chair and watched me as I made a loop around the coffee table. “Talk to me.”

I glanced up before making another loop. “You should really just…do what you need to do today. And I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

He didn’t answer. I made another loop, and when I arrived on the other side of the coffee table, he was there, blocking my path.

“Finn,” I warned.

He held up his hands. “I just want to talk. I’m not–” He broke off, choosing his words carefully. “I felt like we were making progress.”

“We are. I feel like…I can trust you. Which means, I believe you won’t box me in when I ask you not to.” I propped my hands on my hips. “I’m asking you not to.”

“I think you’re shutting me out because you’re scared.”

I backed up and paced the other way, heading to the island this time and circling it. “I’m trying to live my life here. Make my own way. I’m…you’re distracting me.”

When I glanced over, he looked amused.

“It’s not funny,” I said. “I need to focus.”

“You’re the most focused person I know.”

“Besides you.”

He smiled. “Things change, Charlotte. Come play with me this afternoon. I know you want to.”

I swallowed, and circled the counter again.

“Tell me what’s wrong. It’ll be easier than trying to read your mind,” he said.

I glared at him, then pressed my hands over my face because he was right. He had no idea what went on with Mark. I shouldn’t expect him to know the problem, especially if I wasn’t being open with it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, meeting his eyes over the island. “You’re right. I’m just…you made plans for us today and didn’t even ask me. And that’s what–that’s how it used to be–and…”

Understanding flashed in his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant to do at all,” Finn began.

I turned, walking back to the living room. He followed me. “I know,” I said over my shoulder. “But that’s not…I can’t do that again. I won’t.”

“Charlotte, stop for a minute.”

When I didn’t slow down, he said, “Please.”

I stopped in front of the window. A sliver of blue lined the horizon today. It had to be the ocean. Not the chilly and choppy waters I’d just left, but warm southern California waters. Surfers and sand and bikinis and heat.

Finn stopped next to me, following my gaze. “I understand where you’re coming from. I thought it would be nice to get out, but I should have asked you first.”

I touched my hand to the glass, the cool pane calming me. “Yes, you should have.”

“So, will you go somewhere with me this afternoon? Get out of Oasis and relax? Maybe talk a little–”

“We might have to negotiate on the talking part,” I told him, because I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

His jaw shifted when he turned to face me. He had his negotiation face on, but he decided to save it for later. “That’s fine.”

“Is it?” I asked, turning as well.

He stood close enough our feet almost touched, close enough I could feel his body vibrating with energy. Finn was so alive, so full confidence and drive and everything I wanted to be. Despite hating him in the past for hurting me, despite the things we could never see eye to eye on, I’d always admired Finn for going for what he wanted.

“It’ll have to be if I want you,” Finn said, his voice low.

His eyes dipped to my lips as a thrill shot through me with his words. Finn definitely knew what he wanted and he was going for it. I wondered how long that would last, though, when he found out how truly fucked up I was.