Swimming to Tokyo (18 page)

“Studying?” he asks.

I make a face. “I’m not even sure this is English.” I take one final look at the book before closing it. “You’re really smart, aren’t you?”

“Book-smart, yes. You shouldn’t sound so surprised.” He sits down next to me.

I laugh. “I’m not. You’re at MIT, for God’s sake.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t judge a book by its cover.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “You know - juvie, the tat.”

His tone is casual, but I can tell it’s forced. There’s a question there he wouldn’t dare ask directly, but it doesn’t mean he cares any less about the answer. “That’s not who you are to me, Finn.” My voice is soft as I peek at him through strands of hair that fall into my eyes, and he looks away.

He clears his throat. “So did you want to watch the
Bourne
movie?”

“No.” Half of me is disappointed he didn’t force the question. Half is relieved because I have no idea what I would say if he actually asked who he is to me. The only answer I have is he’s more than he was this morning and less than he’s going to be, if today is anything to go by.

“So what do you want to do?” he asks.

“I thought you were going to play guitar for me.”

“I told you. I don’t usually play for other people.” He reaches for the guitar as he says it.

“I know. But you’re going to play for me.” I make myself find his gaze and hold it.

He doesn’t look away. “But I’m going to play for you.”

And he does. Long after the lights are out and I’m tucked into his bed, the soft chords of his guitar fill the room. Occasionally he hums along, but he doesn’t sing and I don’t ask him to. I fall asleep with the music, and when I wake up it’s 3:15, still and dark. I hear Finn’s even breathing and reach out. He’s closer than I thought, and my hand lands on his chest. His eyes fly open.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

I nod before I realize he can’t see me in the dark. “Yes, go back to sleep.”

He mumbles something and pulls me to the edge of my futon, threading his legs through mine. The futon is only a little smaller than a twin mattress and my leg falls in the gap, but I don’t move it away. I’m pretty sure Finn’s back to sleep the second he stops moving, but I lay there for a long time listening to the sound of our breathing perfectly in sync.

I
haven’t slept with someone in so long. Ever, really, since the night I stayed over at Kevin’s when his parents were in Atlantic City and we definitely didn’t sleep. My endless sleepovers with Mindy don’t count either because I don’t end up with her curved around me, her breath on my neck making me squirm.

I wake up early and sneak out of Finn’s room to use the toilet. The apartment is still and silent, so I don’t bother to lock the door. Mistake number one. Mistake number two is opening the medicine cabinet. Just for a peek.

The shelves are the usual jumble of deodorant, dental floss, and Tylenol. There are a few bottles with kanji on them. Below the shelves are two small drawers, just like ours. And, just like ours, I bet Finn and Eloise have one each.

I slide the first drawer open. It’s Finn’s. There’s a razor, shaving gel, a comb and a bottle of Obsession for Men. I smile a little and pull out the second drawer. Hair clips, brushes, Tampax, and a strip of condoms. They’ve got kanji on them, too, which means they were bought here. Holy shit. I knew my dad and Eloise were doing the deed, but…

“Can I help you?” Eloise’s voice is soft behind me.

I whirl around. My face is easily as red as the foil packets in my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I mean, I was just…”

“If you need one…” she starts. To be fair, her face is pretty red, too.

“Oh my God, no. I was just being nosy. I don’t. I mean, I didn’t mean to…” I shove the condoms back in the drawer and slam it shut. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, they’re there if you—”

For the love of God, I cannot let her finish that sentence. “Thanks. I mean. I won’t, but thanks.”

The doorway is wide enough to slip by her, and I keep my head down as I try not to run back to Finn’s room. I clamber back into bed, half-expecting Eloise to knock on the door. I don’t know what she’d say, but everything I imagine is progressively more mortifying. It takes twenty minutes for my pulse to go back to normal, and I don’t think I take a deep breath until I’m sure she’s left the apartment.

I don’t tell Finn. I have a feeling he wouldn’t care about the condoms but would have a definite opinion on my snooping around. I don’t think Eloise will say anything either, but there’s no way in hell I want to run into her again today. Or this week, for that matter.

She texts that afternoon to say she’s been called to Hokkaido. Dad calls while Finn and I are walking around Yokohama with news that it will be at least another day before he’ll be back to Tokyo, too distracted to ask questions. So Finn and I stop by for my clothes on our way back from the station that night like it’s decided. Like my staying with him is a given.

The apartment feels bigger with just the two of us. Finn drags the cushions off the couch and turns on one of the
Bourne
movies. I don’t know which one, but I don’t really care. He’s the one who suggested a movie marathon. I’m just happy to be laying here in the crook of his arm, feeling his fingers in my hair, resting my hand on his chest, trying to play it cool. Like I’m not imagining the muscles underneath that shirt. Like I’m not imagining that shirt off completely. Midway through it, we start kissing. By the end of it, both of us are shirtless. Things heat up in the second one. I barely see Matt Damon fire his first shot before I lose the rest of my clothes, including my panties. Finn slides one hand between my legs and turns off the TV with the other.

“I only want to hear you,” he whispers.

I gasp as his finger slips halfway into me and then out. “Finn, I thought we weren’t…”

“We’re not.” Finn’s hand moves lazily over my wet center. “But it’s very hard to keep my hands off you.”

“No one said you had to.” I arch up as his lips graze my breast.

He brushes my lips with his. “You’re very wet.”

I thrust my hips up a little. Finn’s touch is so sure. “I know.”

“What should I do about that?” he murmurs into my neck. His finger moves in excruciatingly slow circles between my legs.

“What do you want to do about it?” I whisper. Sweet Jesus, if he could just go a little faster…

He pulls away so I can see his face. His eyes are bright with desire. “I want you to tell me, Zosia. Tell me what you want.”

I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. I’ve done this before, but I certainly wasn’t vocal about it. “I want…” I close my eyes for a breath. Finn’s hand slides down my thigh, back between my legs. When he touches me again, it’s like an electric shock. I take a sharp breath in and meet his gaze. “I want you to make me come.”

His mouth covers mine, and his finger slides back into me, gently at first, then faster, deeper. The pleasure rockets through me, and when his fingers move to caress the pulsing wet between my legs, it takes less than a minute for the release to wash over me, blue and green flashing behind my eyes.

Once I’ve stopped twitching, Finn cradles me against his chest. I let my eyes close and listen to his heartbeat thrumming in my ear. I still feel his erection pressed against my stomach and I wonder what I should do about that. But I’m not sure how to start after it seems we’ve so clearly stopped.

I wriggle up and kiss the corner of his mouth, my hand dancing down his chest toward his boxers. Finn kisses me but takes my hand and brings it back up between our chests. “Uh-uh,” he says.

“Why? I want…”

“There’s plenty of time for that.” Finn kisses me again and then rolls away, pushing himself to his feet. Standing upright, his boxers do nothing to conceal his desire, but he ignores it and reaches a hand out to pull me up. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

I stumble into him a little as I get up, and his arm snakes around my waist. It feels a little weird that he doesn’t want to finish what we started, and I hope he’s not one of those guys who’s into self-denial. Mindy dated one of those, and she said it was great at first but got weird fast.

I let Finn steer me back to his room. The futons are where we left them, side by side, the sheets rumpled. Finn tumbles onto one and pulls me down on top of him. Our bodies meet in all the right places, and I shift on top of him. My God, if his boxers weren’t there, it would be so easy to just…

“I didn’t realize this is what you meant by going to bed,” I say, smiling.

He kisses me, getting mostly teeth. “It’s not, but I couldn’t resist you naked on top of me.”

Oh. My. It’s been ten minutes tops since I just came undone underneath his fingers, but heat fills my groin. I inch up his chest, and he thrusts up against me with a groan before rolling me off of him. “But I’m only human.”

“Why? I mean, you want me. I want you…”

“Again?” He grins. “And you said you weren’t that kind of girl.”

I laugh as he parts my legs with his knee. His fingers enter me gently at first, but all it takes is my moan to up the intensity. There’s no hesitation this time. His mouth is everywhere, kissing me, nipping at my skin, sucking my earlobe. It feels like he’s consuming me, and I follow his lead, biting his shoulder, letting my tongue trail over the tattoo on his bicep, finally reaching inside his boxers to take him in my hand.

I close my fingers around his shaft, and he brings his mouth back to mine, thrusting hard against my grip. I let my thumb slide over his wet tip, and he wrenches his mouth away from me, his hand on my wrist.

“It’s been awhile, Zosia. I’m not sure you really want to do that.” Finn’s voice is rough.

“I’m pretty sure I do.” I move my hand slowly up and down. His hand tightens on my wrist, and I think for a minute he’s going to stop me.

Until he lets go and thrusts his hand back between my legs. We move in surprising symmetry. The faster his fingers move over my clit, the quicker my hand works. Both of our breathing turns ragged. It’s ten times more intense feeling Finn’s arousal mingled with my own, and the first tendrils of my orgasm start before my mind even catches up with where my body’s going. I try to hold it back until he’s there, too, but I can’t. As I buck under his hand, he groans.

“Jesus Christ, Zosia.” Finn’s voice rises then falls. I barely even know what I’m doing. I ride the wave of my release, vaguely aware of how slick Finn is in my hand. I grip him tighter as his body tenses, and he finally shudders as he lets go. When he speaks again, it’s a whisper. “Jesus Christ.”

I keep my hand where it is and kiss him. Hard. He’s taken aback. I can tell by the way he hesitates before curving his arm around my hips and drawing me to him to kiss me back. He pulls away first and rests his forehead against mine.

“Wow. What was that for?” he asks.

Because I didn’t know that not-sex could feel so amazing
.

Because that was a ten
.

For both of us
.

Aloud, I sigh and nestle against his shoulder. “Because. Just because.”

W
e wake up at noon Tuesday, tangled together and hot. The timer for the AC went off a couple of hours ago, and the apartment is sweltering. After Finn gets up and goes out to the living room, the fan kicks on and I expect him to come right back, but it’s five minutes before he returns with two cups of coffee. He pulls me onto his lap and when he hands me the mug, I curl my fingers around the handle and take a small sip.

“A girl could get used to this, you know.”

“No, she can’t. My mom texted. She’s on her way back.”

“Which means my dad is coming back.” Crap. My stomach sinks.

Finn doesn’t look thrilled about it either. “Akihiro texted, too. He and Amelia are going to Takashimaya to get a
sayonara
gift for Yudai, and he wanted to know if we wanted to go.”

“We?” I’m sure my phone has a similar message, but I wonder how Akihiro knows about me and Finn.

“Well, he said if I see you, Amelia wants you to go, but you haven’t been answering her texts.” So that answers that question. I feel a twinge of guilt. Except for my dad, I’ve blown off everyone for two days.

“I haven’t. She’s probably bummed, too.” Yudai, it turns out, is engaged and moving to Osaka to be with his fiancée. I got that text late Friday night—after the one Amelia sent asking me how upset I was but before the one I sent asking her to cover for me if my dad quizzes her about Kamakura. God, that night in the bar feels like a hundred years ago.

He grins. “I’ll cover for you.”

“What are you going to tell her? That you kidnapped me and made me watch the
Bourne
movies?”

“For the record, I’m not sure you actually saw any of the movies. And I didn’t see you complaining.” His hands skim my back, brushing the edges of my breasts, and he leans in to kiss me. We stayed up until sunrise this morning talking and laughing. And then there was the rest of it. To say we weren’t quite done last night is an understatement.

Remembering, I inch farther up his lap and wriggle against him. He’s just wearing boxers, and his erection throbs through the thin fabric. The damp pools between my legs, ready for him—or at least, his touch.

“I’m not sure you should start that.” He kisses me and then gently pushes my shoulders back. “We should eat and get going if we’re going to meet Amelia and Akihiro. What do you want to tell them?”

“The truth?”

Finn doesn’t say anything, although his expression reminds me that he thinks he’s a four on the honesty scale.

I think I’m a seven until I’m walking around the china section of Takashimaya with Amelia later, and I realize I can’t quite bring myself to tell her when she asks what happened between us. “Nothing. I mean, I don’t know, but it’s not what you think.”

She furrows her brow. “So what is it? I don’t hear from you for days because you’ve been holed up with Mr. American Gigolo himself, but it’s not what I think?”

“He’s not like that, Amelia.” I haven’t told her much, although to be fair she hasn’t given me much chance. As soon as Akihiro and Finn headed for the food hall in the basement, she started the third degree. At least part of it is because she’s annoyed I’ve blown her off. I know that. But the other part is her satisfaction that everything she said Friday night was right. And I’m pretty sure Amelia likes being right.