Falling for Finn (20 page)

Pain in her chest. She could hardly breathe. Barely see the screen in front of her for the sudden tears that filled her eyes.

“I…” He stopped and she watched his chest rise and fall, fast. “L-love you and I w-will…always be…your…” He swallowed, muttered something under his breath, frowning fiercely. “Your…f-f-friend.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop them.

Finn finally put the paper down and the people standing in the snow around him gave an odd little cheer, as if not quite sure whether they should or not. He didn’t even look at them. His gaze remained on the camera, looking into it as if he were looking right at her.

“If you’re watching, Anna. I love you.“

And then, almost abruptly, his face disappeared as the camera panned away over the crowd and the credits rolled.

Anna struggled for breath. She put her hands over her face to stem the tears, to stop the pain from ripping her insides out.

He’d listened to her. He’d heard everything she’d said. And on his TV show, in front of the whole damn country, he’d stripped himself bare.

You want that pathetic, piece of shit guy I used to be? The one who couldn’t read…

His voice still echoed in her head. The bitterness of it. He’d always hated his dyslexia. No matter how many times he told her he was good with it, could cope with it, she knew he hated it. Had never got over that feeling, reinforced by school and by his family, that he was stupid. Slow. Dumb.

How much had it cost him to do that on TV? Expose his deepest fear like that?

And all for her.

I love you and I will always be your friend.

“Finn…” His name escaped her in a soundless whisper.

Anna reached for her phone then stopped. Idiot. This wasn’t a phone call type of situation.

She had to see him face to face.

Fifteen minutes later she stood outside Finn’s apartment, but he wasn’t there. Perhaps she should have gone home and waited. It wasn’t as if her place was far away. But something wouldn’t let her leave. So she turned, leaned against his door and sat down, heedless of the expensive material of her skirt.

She waited. And waited. And after a while the sleepless nights she’d had for the past couple of weeks, since she and Finn had argued, began to steal up on her, making her feel drowsy. She folded her arms on her knees, rested her forehead against them. Closed her eyes.

“Anna?” A familiar voice, sounding shocked.

Anna jerked her head up, blinking. She had the distinct impression, from her fuzzy head and the crick in her neck, that she’d been asleep for a little while.

And then all that fell away when she saw who stood in front of her, looking down at her.

Finn.

She took a shuddering breath, stumbling to her feet, blinking away the sleep.

He watched her, the expression on his face guarded. “What are you doing here?”

Anna placed her palms flat on the door behind her, needing to lean against something for a moment. And to stop herself from reaching for him. Touching him. “I saw your show,” she croaked out.

She saw him go tense, his whole posture stiff. “Did you?” He gave her a wary look. “Do you want to step away from the door?”

Anna blinked, then felt herself blushing. “Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” She took a couple of steps away from the door, watching as Finn began to unlock it.

She swallowed, doubt beginning to coil inside her. What the hell was she doing here? She’d thought he’d be…well, different somehow. Especially after what he’d said on TV. And yet all he’d done was look at her and she’d sensed the distance, the chasm between them still as unbridgeable as ever.

Then Finn turned. “Do you want to come in?”

An oddly formal question. Way too formal for all they had been to one another. It made the raw edges of the pain inside her heart rub together.

“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

An expression flashed across his face, gone so quick she didn’t have time to read it. He turned away to go inside. “I don’t want to talk out here.”

Oh. Well, that was fair enough, wasn’t it?

She followed him into the apartment, closing the door behind her. Inside Finn dumped his keys and wallet where he normally did, nice and tidy on a small table by the door. Then he walked over to the kitchen area.

Anna trailed along behind him, self-conscious and awkward to be back here again, as if the echoes of their previous argument still hovered in the air around them.

She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know why she’d come. She’d just wanted to see him. Wanted to see him so badly. Yet now she was here, she didn’t know what to do.

“Do you want a coffee?” Finn moved over to the jug and switched it on.

“Yes, please.”

A thick, fraught silence fell, stifling in its awkwardness.

Finn began getting out the coffee things: cups, beans, the grinder. His movements were careful, precise. And then, quite suddenly, he stopped what he was doing. Dropped the stainless steel canister full of beans with a clatter, his hands grasping the edges of the kitchen counter in a white-knuckled grip, his head bent.

Her heart went still. He had his back to her, his whole posture gone rigid with tension.

The silence became something else and she couldn’t breathe.

“Why are you here?” Finn asked at last. He didn’t turn and the tension in his powerful frame didn’t lessen.

Anna found her hands had curled into fists at her sides. “I told you, I saw the show—”

“So you said, but why did that make you come here?”

She had nothing to give him but the truth. “To be honest, Finn, I don’t…I don’t actually know. After what you said…I had to see you.”

“Why?” He still didn’t turn around, his tall figure motionless at the bench.

Anna began to answer and then stopped. So much tension in him and in the air around him. Between them. Why was she here? What was the point?

“Did you mean those things you said?” she asked baldly. “That you loved me? That you would always be my friend?”

His head bent. “Yes.” His voice sounded hoarse.

And suddenly it came to her in a blinding flood. The reason for his tension, his distance. The wary, guarded look he’d given her.

He was afraid. Finn Shaw, her fearless, brave friend, was afraid.

And for some reason, the chasm between them suddenly became not so very big after all. The merest crack. Easily stepped over.

So she did.

Anna took a step toward him. And another and another. And then he was there, right in front of her, his strong body rigid, the muscles in his arms standing out in stark relief as he gripped the edge of the bench.

Her heart twisted. That this powerful, strong, beautiful man should be afraid. That here, at the end of everything, it was she who had the strength to take that final step. But why not? Why shouldn’t she? Hadn’t he always told her she was strong?

And she was. After he’d laid himself open to her on national TV, could she do any less? Could she keep holding back, keep protecting herself? It would be hard because she’d never done this before. Even with Michael, her ex, she’d held something back. But she couldn’t with Finn. He demanded more and she wanted to give it to him.

All she had to do was touch him. Because once she did, there would be no more friendship. Not ever again. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name.

No, not friendship. There would be so much more.

Anna reached out and put her hand on his strong, warm back.

Finn went absolutely rigid, the hard muscles under her palm taut.

“It’s okay, Finn,” she said quietly. “It’s just me. It’s just Anna.”

He made a sound, a desperate kind of protest perhaps, or her name, whispered harsh and raw. Then he turned and his arms were around her and she was being held against his big body so tightly she could barely breathe. His head bent, face turned into her hair. He was shaking.

Anna closed her eyes, her throat tight, her heart aching. She put her arms around him and held him in return, letting her palms stroke up and down his back, soothing, calming.

So good to be holding him. To be held. To feel his warmth and his scent around her. Like coming home.

They stood like that for a long time. Saying nothing. Holding each other.

Then slowly Finn lifted his head, and she saw for the first time in months just how very, very vulnerable he actually was.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sorry for everything. You were right. I
did
only give you anger. Because it’s easier to get angry than it is to beg. Or plead. And I couldn’t bear the thought of doing either. You’ve already seen me weak, back when I had no job, no self-worth, no self-respect. I hated that, Green Eyes. Hated that you saw me at my lowest. That you had to do all those things for me, pull me back out again. But mostly, I hated myself for being that way in the first place.”

Her heart twisted inside her. She reached up, took his face between her hands. “I never saw you as being weak, Finn Shaw. All I saw was this amazingly intelligent man who could do anything he wanted to. Who only had to look at a sport and know instantly how to do it and do it better than anyone else. I was in awe of you, didn’t you know that?”

He looked into her eyes. “No. All I knew was I would never be good enough for the woman I loved. Never in a million years.”

“Finn…” Her thumbs traced his mouth, touching him the way she’d wanted to do for so long but never allowed herself. “Why would you think that? You’re a man who’s overcome so much to come out as a huge success doing something you love to do. That would be good enough for anyone. How good do you want to be?”

His blond head bent, his forehead resting on hers. “I don’t know. Good enough for you.”

“You are good enough for me. You always have been.”

A long moment passed, the length of his gold lashes almost brushing hers.

Then she asked, “So what made you read that note aloud on TV?”

“You told me I’ve never lowered my defenses. So I had to do something to show that I could.” He took a breath. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life.” Another pause. “But not nearly as hard as never seeing you again.”

She could barely speak. “Oh, Finn…”

“Why are you here, Anna?” he asked again. “I need to know because…” He hesitated, then went on, his deep voice softer, a raw edge to it. “If you’re going to leave again, I don’t think…I don’t think I could bear it.”

Anna blinked away a sudden prickling of tears behind her eyes. “I saw you on TV and what you said…I just had to see you.” She lifted her head away from his, looking up into his eyes. “Tell you how much it meant to me. And that…” She stopped, realizing something. “I was wrong too. The man you are now is who you were always meant to be. And that man…” The words stuck in her throat, the intensity of the emotion too large for them to get out. But she had to say it. “That man is everything I didn’t even realize I wanted. God, I think that’s why I couldn’t say yes when Michael asked me to marry him. Because subconsciously, it’s always been you.”

“Anna,” he began.

“No,” she said, stopping him, “let me say this. I have to say it.” She swallowed. “I’ve been so scared, Finn. I’ve been protecting myself for so long that the thought of letting anyone in was…I don’t know, too much for me. Too hard. Too frightening. You know what happened with Mum and Dad.”

“Their fighting?”

Fighting? More like a battle. A war. “Yeah,” she said thickly. “They got so angry with each other. So violent. They scared me and I decided I never wanted to feel so intensely about anyone because if that was love and marriage, I didn’t want a bar of it. So I closed myself off.” She halted. “Even with Michael I held back. And it’s hard to stop doing that. I wanted to keep you where you were, in the best friend box, because that was easier. The thought of you being more to me… I couldn’t even think of that. Didn’t want to. Especially after the attack. I just wanted normal. I wanted safe. And you weren’t safe.”

Pain flooded through his face. “I know, Green Eyes. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t—”

She raised a hand, touched his mouth, silencing him. “That’s the thing, Finn.” She looked up into his eyes as something else became clear to her. “You’ve never been safe. And that’s what I liked about you, right from the beginning. You were my risk. You were my danger. My excitement. My way to not be safe all the time without actually having to risk myself.” She took a little breath. “I wanted both. The safe part and the risk. And then you changed the rules on me, became all risk and I…I didn’t know what to do.”

He’d gone still again. “Anna, whatever you decide to do, know that I meant what I said. No more ultimatums. No more anger. I’ll take whatever you want to give me, and if that’s only friendship, then that’s what I’ll give you.” He released her suddenly, straightening, shoulders squaring as if he was bracing himself. “Whatever you want, Green Eyes, you can have it. It’s yours.”

Anna swallowed back the ache in her throat, the tears that burned at the back of her eyes. “I want you, Finn. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Then she stepped up to him, took his face between her hands and brought his mouth down on hers.