Page 22 of Forever Finn
“What’s that?”
“Your love of innuendo and double entendré, given that—”
“Given that I’m not interested in having sex?” she finishes for me with a chuckle. “What can I say? I’m nuanced.”
“You certainly are that,” I reply softly.
“So tell me all about the dishy Canadian,” she hums contentedly, and I can picture her in her pjs, snuggling further down into her couch with her favourite blanket ready to gossip and share secrets. It’s what we’ve always done.
“He’s…” I shake my head.
“Hot?”
“Definitely.” A smile tugs at my lips.
“Hung?”
“Given the fact that I need a cushion to sit on”—I chuckle—“I’d say that’s an affirmative.”
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asks seriously.
“No more than I asked him to,” I reply honestly.
“Oooh, kinky.”
“He was… kind,” I murmur. “He took care of me. I never felt like I was… I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I’ve always had to be so careful about who I’ve had sex with because it made me vulnerable. Every time I’ve been with someone, at the back of my mind was the constant thought… is he using me? I know the answer has always been yes, they were there to get fucked by the fantasy of Finn Gallagher. They never saw me. But Wyatt… he not only saw me… the real me, but he gave me exactly what I needed and didn’t take anything I wasn’t willing to give. He was… perfect.”
I finish my rambling soliloquy and feel heat creep up my neck for gushing like a teenager with a crush. I brace myself for the good-natured teasing that’s always been the cornerstone of our friendship but when I’m met with a protracted silence, my stomach clenches.
“Sky? Can you hear me?” I ask worriedly. “Is the wind too loud?”
“You like him,” she says slowly. “I mean like him, not as a hookup, or a fling or whatever you’re calling it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff. “I’m just in thrall to that monster he calls a cock. He says I’m dick drunk,” I say mildly, ruthlessly ignoring the weird fluttering in my stomach.
“And that right there ladies and gentlemen is my new phrase of the day.” She laughs in delight. “Dick drunk.” She laughs again and I know she’s letting me off the hook. No one knows me like Sky does.
“Sky,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be a sad and lonely man with a drinking problem,” she replies easily.
“I am sad and lonely with a drinking problem.”
“No, you're scared and lonely with the potential for a drinking problem.”
“I'm not scared,” I scoff.
“Of course, you are,” she says gently. “Everyone’s scared, Finn, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The trick is to not to let it become so overwhelming that it drowns you.”
“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.” I blow out a slow breath.
“I know,” she replies slightly more subdued. “I miss you, Finn.” She lets loose her own sigh. “But I’m glad you went home. I think this is what you needed.”
“It’s not home,” I deny, but even as the words spill from my lips they feel wrong somehow.
“The world’s not so black and white, we know that better than most, and just because you don’t live there anymore, doesn’t mean it’s not home. I have no intention of heading back to the tiny Podunk town in the middle of Missouri I grew up in, but every time I think about it, I still think of it as home.”
“Sky…” I breathe in sympathy. “Maybe if you talk to them… it’s been years… maybe…”