Page 39 of Brad & Finn (Gomillion High Reunion #3)

FINN

Finn was pretty sure Chloe was making him seasick.

She hadn’t stopped bouncing since her promposal at the hotel. It had made the car shake on the way over, and she had practically dislocated his shoulder at the cocktail hour while they stood in line for drinks. Now, it was making their entire table shake at the formal dinner portion of the evening.

Admittedly, the promposal had been adorable.

He couldn’t believe Brad had found pompoms and that Chloe had not only remembered the old posters they used to make but also the words to the cheer.

Come to think of it, she’d had trouble remembering some of the much simpler cheers at the basketball game.

Maybe Brad had helped, and between the two of them, they’d been able to put it together?

Finn’s heart clenched, and he lowered his fork, which still held a tender bite of braised short rib, back to his plate. Chloe’s anxious knee bouncing was nothing compared to the turmoil crashing like waves through his chest.

He was trying. Really, he was. Chloe had gone to so much trouble to make tonight special, either because of or in spite of the fact that Brad decided to skip the evening’s activities.

She’d stayed by his side throughout the entire cocktail hour, handing him drinks and fun snacks until he was well on his way to tipsy and was able to forget, at least for a moment, the aching hole at their side where Brad should have been.

He didn’t want to ruin Chloe’s night just because he wanted to mope. Besides, he truly did enjoy Naomi and Mariana’s company, and the last thing he wanted to do was be rude to either of them. Chloe would understand, even if she shouldn’t, but Naomi and Mariana wouldn’t.

His conversation skills weren’t the best on a good day, but he thought he did a good job for the remainder of dinner.

Even if every time he shifted in his seat, he had to clench his teeth to keep from shouting in confused frustration—at Brad…

and at himself. He’d worn his dumb, lacy underwear, just like he’d promised Brad he would for their “prom night” rendezvous, but now that wasn’t going to happen.

He wasn’t sure if a lot of things were going to happen—like an actual conversation about what they were doing or if last night was just a fling, and Finn should get to work forgetting all about it so he could move on with his life.

But how was he supposed to move on from twenty-five years of history? Or kisses that tasted like sunrise looked and arms that felt like home never could?

God, he was drunk. He only got this morose when he was drinking.

He glared at the fourth Blue Lagoon Chloe had shoved in his hands, which sat half empty next to the cider he’d had with dinner.

Thankfully, the dinner had been heavy, and the pecan pie a server set down in front of him would probably tame the alcohol flowing through his blood.

He could still feel it swirling in his stomach, causing heartburn so bad he could taste it in the back of his throat.

Or maybe that was that damned brick again, the one that had planted itself there and refused to let him tell Brad he wanted him to be here tonight.

“And now, we’d like to turn to your class president for some brief remarks and to share some memories,” their old principal said, his familiar voice grating on Finn's already frayed nerves. “After that, we’ll get to the awards show—where all of the alumni here will receive an award, including ‘most changed’ and ‘sweetest high school sweethearts.’”

Finn’s stomach did a nauseating roll, not too dissimilar to the ones Chloe’s pompoms had done during the promposal.

Thankfully, Finn wasn’t technically “here” at the reunion, so he wouldn’t receive any kind of award—especially not one that would remind him how different he’d been back then or that he’d never had a high school sweetheart…

or that he was possibly about to lose his only opportunity to be anyone’s sweetheart.

His stomach seized, and he pushed out of his chair. Chloe stood as well, her eyes having been glued to him since the second the principal announced the awards. Finn tried to wave her away, but she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Naomi whispered.

“You look a little green, ami,” Mariana agreed.

“I…” Finn tried to say, but the only thing that threatened to come out were tears.

“We’re going to get some air. Or maybe a lot of air, depending on how long these speeches go,” Chloe said.

Naomi grimaced at the stage. “I think it might be at least two hours.”

Finn’s stomach did a front handspring, a trick he’d been rather good at back in the day, and he whimpered.

“You’ll both be around tomorrow?” Chloe asked, grabbing her clutch off the table and picking up Finn’s jacket for him.

“We’ll be here till noon on Monday!” Mariana said.

Chloe nodded, and Finn managed a feeble wave before they hustled out of the gym.

The tepid night air did little to help Finn’s stomach. They made it about halfway to the parking lot before Finn decided there was no way he could get into the stuffy car, which stank of whatever air freshener the rental agency used.

“I wore flats for a reason. Want to walk?” Chloe asked.

Finn agreed, allowing her to lead him back the way they’d come and then down the road to town.

“So…was prom about as great as you’d been expecting?” Chloe asked.

Finn shook his head. “I had pretty low expectations, but…yeah, that was pretty boring.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” Chloe said, and just like every other time she’d apologized for something that night, it felt like she was trying to say something else.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. Again. “And if you’re apologizing for promposing, don’t. It was sweet, and probably the best part of the whole night.”

He thought that had been the right thing to say, but Chloe’s frown deepened even further until her forehead was so scrunched, he was able to fit his whole pointer finger in the divot between her eyebrows.

“Stop that,” she said, batting away his hand, which she then took in her own and held as they continued their slow journey down the sidewalk.

Finn didn’t think he was at risk of losing his dinner anymore, but he still didn’t feel great. His heart was heavy, and his head was a mess—more so than usual. On top of that, now that Brad had pointed out how tense his arms and shoulders got, he felt them aching as well as his back.

God, when would Brad stop occupying his every thought?

As if it was written across his face, or maybe Chloe had developed mind reading abilities she’d failed to mention, she squeezed his hand before saying, “I’m sorry Brad isn’t here.

And before you say how you’re happy just being here with me, I know you are, but I also know you would have preferred Brad to be here, too. ”

Finn slowed to a stop in front of a bench and gracelessly pulled her down onto the seat next to him. She ended up halfway in his lap, and they laughed softly as they rearranged themselves.

“I do wish he was here,” he admitted. “I’d sort of hoped we could talk some more and then spend the night together, but…”

“But he decided he wasn’t ready,” Chloe finished for him.

She’d always been able to do that, reach inside his mixed-up thoughts and help him pull out the one that mattered. Maybe she was a mind reader.

Except, wait…

“That’s not… What? What do you mean?”

Chloe’s mouth parted, but no words came out.

Finn turned to face her, pulling one leg up between them in almost the exact same position he’d taken with Brad. He appreciated the soft connection between his knee and her thigh, but he also needed to look at her for this.

“Chloe, what are you talking about?”

Chloe’s fingers absently went to the flower pinned to her dress, and Finn had a sudden moment of clarity, the kind only afforded late at night or with the help of a bit of booze.

“He was going to ask me to prom.”

Chloe bit her lip and remained facing forward, looking across the street at the dimly lit ice cream parlor.

“He was going to ask me to prom, and…and he wasn’t ready?”

Chloe clutched at the flower but still said nothing.

“You guys planned out that whole proposal, which I’m assuming was your idea based on the fact Brad would have no idea that my favorite flower is a daffodil, and he…”

Chloe dropped her hand to Finn’s knee and bowed her head.

“I don’t know what happened, Finn. He flipped the script on me with no warning and then–” Her fingers tightened on his leg, and she finally looked at him.

“And then he ditched us. I’m so angry at him.

I told him, very specifically, not to do this.

To get your hopes up this weekend just to… to let you down.”

Finn was speechless. Usually, it was easy to respond to her wild ideas and even wilder plans, but he had nothing. His brain was utterly void.

They sat in silence for several minutes as Finn listened to the strange echo in his head.

Chloe pulled him out of the darkness by squeezing his leg again.

“He asked about me and Christian and whether you were part of our QPR,” she said, surprising Finn with the new direction of her thoughts.

“I told him that you are but also sort of aren’t.

Christian and I love you so much, and we know you love us, too, but…

I also know that deep down, we’re not enough. ”

A blue curacao flavored boulder lodged itself in Finn’s mouth. Or maybe that was just his heavy tongue gluing itself to the roof of his mouth so he couldn’t stop Chloe’s monologue, even though she was so terribly wrong.

“I told him I thought you deserved someone who would love you, prioritize you, and who would be your person, in a way that Christian and I can’t be for you. And he said…”