Page 31 of Finley

“Which was?”

He stood, lined his bottle up with the green recycling bin by the door, aimed, and then threw, getting it in with one shot. “Do you think I should go and stay with him for two weeks?”

Derek spread his hands out in front of himself and then nodded as he gave his smuggest grin. “To which I said…go forth and fuck him. Also known as my version of hell fucking yes. Get your ass to his house and do what you came here for. Whatever that might be.”

Daniel sighed and walked to the door. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Then he looked over to his friend. “Don’t work too hard.”

Derek put his feet up on the small coffee table and relaxed. “Not a chance in hell of that happening, Danny boy. Not a chance in hell.”

Chapter 9

DANIEL GOT BACK to his mother’s house later that afternoon. When he walked in, she was putting the tomatoes away in the fridge.

“Hey there,” he said as he dropped his sister’s keys on the bench and leaned down to give her a kiss. “I thought you went to the store earlier?”

She turned her cheek up to him, and when his lips met it, she said, “No, I just went out. I thought you might need some privacy to, you know…talk.”

He tilted his head to the side and eyed her. “Oh? Well, thanks.”

“Hmm, you’re welcome,” she said, and then put a hand on her hip. “So? When are you going?” Her eyes sparkled at him.

He frowned. “Going where?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

He took the lettuce out of her canvas shopping bag and went over to the fridge. Once he’d put it in the crisper, he gave her a smile. “To Brantley’s.”

Her face lit up as she walked past him with the bananas. Then she stopped, looked up, and said, “Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yes. Forfinallytelling me.”

“Ma—” he started.

“No, stop right there. We aren’t going to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make excuses for why you didn’t think you could tell me. But now that I know, I do want to know one thing.”

He swallowed and wondered if he would be able to answer whatever she was about to ask.God, what if she asks when this all started?What if she freaked out that Brantley was his teacher—well, ex-teacher.

“How long have you loved him?”

Thatwas not what he’d been expecting.

“Huh?” He couldn’t believe she’d just asked him that.

“Howlonghave you loved him, Finn?”

He couldn’t deny her when she used his name that way, and honestly, he was so tired of not telling someone how he really felt that he gave in. He leaned back against the kitchen cabinets and shook his head.

“Feels like forfuckingever.”

She wandered over to him, stopped, and took his hand in hers. “Language, son. Is he the reason you left?”

His mouth went dry at the compassion in her eyes, and he nodded, unable to think of anything to say.