Falling for Finn (12 page)

Like what? How what goes?

“Well, I understand,” Jo went on, before he could speak. “It’s okay. But I had a good time, so if, you know, you’re ever in the States and want someone to hang out with…” She trailed off meaningfully.

“It’ll be you, I promise.” And that was the truth. He did like her. And if it had been at any other time…

Before Anna.

Gritting his teeth, he shrugged off the insidious thought. No, this had nothing to do with Anna. Nothing.

Jo stepped close, kissed him on the cheek. “See you around, Finn.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“Yeah. I think I do.” She gave him a half smile. “You’re too goddamn easy to be with.”

It should have made him feel good, but for some reason it didn’t. It only made him feel like more of a prick for leading her on.

After she’d gone, he debated whether to go home or head out to the beach by himself to catch some waves. It really was the only way to deal with the antsy, restless feeling inside him. Either that or sex, and he’d just blown the sex part of it.

In the end, he took his board out to Piha, a surf beach on Auckland’s west coast, and spent a good couple of hours working out his restlessness, trying to still his mind by concentrating on the waves. By the time he was ready to come in, he felt a little better. A little calmer.

But as he drove into the city, he found himself taking a different route to the one that usually took him home. A route he could have driven blindfolded. A route that didn’t lead back to his own apartment but somewhere else just as familiar.

Anna’s.

Chapter Eight

Anna wasn’t expecting anyone, and when the knock on the door came, she couldn’t stop the reflexive twist of fear inside her. Hating the feeling, she stalked to her front door, wanting to throw it wide, fear be damned. But, of course, she didn’t. She had to stop and peer through the peephole first like some frightened old lady.

Yet when she saw who waited on the porch outside, all the fear left her. Because it was Finn. Relief poured through her, along with a sudden, intense pleasure that he was here. She pulled open the door, grinning. “Hey, you. What are you doing here?”

He stood with one hand in the pocket of his battered jeans, the other behind his back, close-fitting black T-shirt pulled tight over his powerful shoulders. His hair looked damp, the gold tips of it dark in the fading light of early evening.

Her heart began to beat oddly fast. Beautiful man. She shouldn’t be noticing but she couldn’t help it. No denying the fact he was gorgeous.

“Went for a surf. Then I thought I’d drop in and see if you want to get some takeout and a movie.” He smiled and lifted a shoulder. “You know, the usual.”

The usual. Happiness and something else, something she couldn’t identify, shot through her.

He’d told her over the phone it was okay between them, but she hadn’t been entirely sure, and all day she’d been stressing over it. Especially given the fact he’d ended their conversation so abruptly. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. God knew he’d had enough of that in his life.

But looking at him now, he did seem fine. And this was their normal routine. At least one evening a week they’d rent a bad kung fu movie. Get takeout and a bottle of wine. Argue and laugh and talk.

She’d missed it so much. Couldn’t imagine now why she’d cut him off after the attack. She’d been crazy, clearly.

Anna leaned against the door, unable to stop grinning. “Finn…”

“I take it that’s a yes?” He took his hand from behind his back and held it up so she could see the cover of the DVD he was carrying. “I hope so, because I’ve got some classic Bruce Lee here.” One dark brow lifted. “Unless you have plans, of course?”

No, she had no plans. None. In fact she had none for the whole of the week. Not even work. Oh shit. Work.

Finn’s hand dropped abruptly. “What’s wrong?”

Abruptly, Anna turned away. “Come in. I’ll tell you over a glass of wine.”

Anna liked her flat and tried to keep it tidy, but housework had never been her strong point. A small flat anyway, her mess tended to make it feel even smaller. She could hear Finn making tutting noises as he followed her down the tiny, narrow hallway and into the kitchen. Incurably neat—something she’d always found amusing about a guy who threw himself off cliffs and down mountains on a regular basis—he would clean up her stuff whenever he visited her. It tended to irritate her, but now, as she pulled open the fridge to grab the wine, watching him tidy her dishes on the side of the sink felt somehow comforting.

He made no comment, acting just as he would do if he were in his own kitchen. Then he reached up to the cupboard where she kept her wineglasses and pulled a couple out. And that too made her feel calmer. Finn, in her kitchen tidying up, was normality. And she hadn’t had normality for such a long time.

“So,” he said, putting the glasses down on the kitchen-counter. “What’s the deal?”

Anna poured the wine. “I got told to take the rest of the week off work.”

“What? Why?”

She hated to admit it. Even to him. “Because I’m not pulling my weight apparently.”

Slowly, Finn leaned back against the counter, frowning. “What do you mean not pulling your weight? Are they on drugs or something? I’ve never seen anyone work harder than you do.”

Ah, that was Finn. Always in her corner. Always had been. “Actually, Adrian was right. I haven’t been pulling my weight.” She reached out, grabbed one of the glasses and took a hefty sip. “I’ve been distracted and kind of out of it for the past six months.”

Finn didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, it was soft. “Did you tell them what happened to you?”

She gave a short, sharp shake of her head. “No. God, no.”

“Why not?”

“Would you? Christ, Finn, it had nothing to do with my job, so why should I?”

His frown deepened. “Hey, settle down. What’s the problem?”

Anna realized her voice had risen. That she was gripping her wineglass like she wanted to strangle it. Slowly she let out a breath, trying to calm down. “I hate that it’s affecting my job. I tried so hard not to let it. Did everything I was supposed to do, therapy, all that crap. But still it feels like I’m in this bad dream I can’t escape from.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Green Eyes. It was a terrible experience. You can’t expect to shrug it off and get on with your life.”

And yet that’s what she wanted. To be able to shrug it off and get on with her life. She didn’t want it to continue to have power over her. This fear made her feel like a victim.

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Lie on the floor and give up? Push through it? Tried both of those and they didn’t work.”

Finn stepped away from the counter, concern and sympathy in his eyes. “Give it time, Anna.” Then before she knew it, he had his arms around her, drawing her into a hug. She should have expected it. Hugs were Finn’s thing.

But still she couldn’t stop the instinctive stiffening of her body.

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “It’s me, remember?”

Those same words, whispered in a different context. As he touched her. While she’d been naked.

And just like that Anna became aware of him in a devastatingly physical way. Of everything about him. The smell of salt that still clung to his skin, underlain with the spiciness that was his natural scent. The warmth of the big, powerful body that sheltered hers. The strength of his arms around her.

Heat blossomed inside her, an intense, demanding hunger.

No. No way. That one night should have dealt with that. She shouldn’t want him. She couldn’t want him.

Unable to stop herself, Anna pulled out of his arms, her heart racing. Surprise on his face as his gaze met hers. Hurt too. And underneath, desire.

From that moment on, I wanted you.

No. This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

She turned around without saying a word, picking up her glass and heading out to the lounge. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, her skin strangely sensitive to the pressure of her clothes.

She could hear him following her but she didn’t turn, fussing around with the DVD, putting it in the player and turning on the TV. Fast forwarding through the advertisements. Pretending nothing had happened. Because if she did, then maybe nothing had. Maybe they’d still be okay.

And sure enough, when she turned to the couch, Finn was sitting there the way he normally did, with his feet on her coffee table, hands behind his head. He grinned. “Stop fiddling with that bloody machine and bring on the kung fu.”

Yeah, they were okay. They were fine. She didn’t need to worry.

Anna grinned back, hoping her relief wasn’t obvious. “You’re forgetting something vital.”

“What?”

“Food.”

Finn held up a finger. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and within a minute he’d ordered from their favorite Thai restaurant.

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” Anna complained, laughing as she came to sit next to him.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you like, Ms. Jameson.”

She knew he hadn’t meant it to sound sexual, but her thoughts went there all the same. Furiously, she ignored the rush of heat that went through her. Told herself she didn’t feel it.

Coming over to the couch, she threw herself down next to him. Just like she had every other night.

She wouldn’t let this get to her. She couldn’t.

She’d pretend it didn’t exist.

How else would she have her friend back?

The TV flickered light over the remains of dinner on the coffee table, the second bottle of wine they’d opened standing empty. He’d have to get a taxi home. Not that it was any drama. He’d done so many times in the past. In fact, more often he’d stayed the night.

But perhaps not tonight.

Finn stared fixedly at the TV, trying to ignore the soft press of Anna’s body against his. She had her head on his shoulder, her back against his side. The scent of her hair, the faint vanilla smell of her skin seemed to be everywhere. Normally, he had no problem with being close to her like this. Once, in the first throes of his unrequited longing for her, he’d found it difficult to control his reactions around her, but not these days.

So he really shouldn’t be lying here, holding himself tense because her every movement made the hard-on in his jeans get even harder.

On the screen Bruce Lee dispatched some more villains and Anna laughed, making some comment. He tried to think of a response, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate with her body lax and warm against his.

Shit. What was with him? He’d come over here because he missed her. Because he wanted to see her. Wanted her to know she had nothing to worry about when it came to their friendship. That it was fine between them.

Yet now he was afraid to even move because he knew if he did, the temptation to reach for her, to pull her under him and take her would be too much for him.

And he couldn’t do that. The moment in the kitchen when she’d wrenched herself out of his arms had shown him exactly what she thought of his touch. Only a hug, but it seemed even such completely nonsexual contact was too much for her.

Christ, he was going to go mad. Why now was it so unbearable? It was as if that afternoon had opened a crack in the dam, and nothing was going to stop all the water coming out.

“Hey.” Anna dug him in the ribs with an elbow. “What’s with the strong, silent type treatment?”

“Nothing.”

“Crap.” She pushed herself up and twisted round to look at him, brown hair in her eyes. “You’ve gone weirdly quiet.”

“I’m just tired.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re never tired.”

“I did spend three hours in the waves this afternoon.”

“True.” A flash of green from beneath black lashes, her mouth curving in that slightly mischievous way she had when she’d had a bit too much wine and lost the quiet, reserved front she showed to the world. “I’ll need to test your reactions then. Double-check your general tiredness levels. In a purely professional capacity, you understand.”

She leaned forward, her hands going for his sides where he was particularly ticklish. It wasn’t anything much. She often did this to him, tickling him like an annoying little sister.

Except as she leaned forward, the way she sat made the soft curve of her breast brush over his groin. Electricity shot through him, the shock of the contact stealing all the air from his lungs.

Before he could stop himself, he’d grabbed her wrists, holding them still. “Stop it.” The words came out in a growl.

Anna’s eyes widened. “What?”

Anger swept in like the tide. A helpless anger that had been building all day, ever since her phone call that morning. Flooding in on the heels of the desire that gripped him by the throat. Releasing her, Finn eased away. He should go before he did something he’d regret. “Nothing. I think I’d better shoot.”

“What? But the movie hasn’t finished yet.”