Page 55 of Kill Your Darlings

“To check on the cats.”

I was momentarily baffled, then I remembered a bizarre dreamlike sequence of events from the previous night that seemed to have concluded with me sobbing in Finn’s arms.My entire body flushed with embarrassment.

I said shortly, “If I didn’t trust Angelique, I’d never have left my boys in her care.”

Finn’s mouth twitched, though his expression remained grave.

“What?”

“That’s undoubtedly the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

I scowled.“Well, guess what?”

He continued to study me, a humorous glint in his eyes.

I sighed.

He asked kindly, “Would you like some coffee?”

I flinched, swallowed hard.“Not…yet.Thanks.”

“Do you feel up to talking?”

I met his eyes steadily.

“Okay,” Finn said.“I’ll talk.”

Chapter Fourteen

It was too easy to forget he’d been a cop.

Finn looked handsome and dissolute sitting there on my bed.The ruffled hair, the shadowy eyes, and the gold glint of beard.His tuxedo shirt was unbuttoned, and I could see the pale swirls of chest hair and the taut lines of his abdomen.Like the hero on an OG romance cover.My Hump Buddy the Billionaire.

Of course, we weren’t hump buddies.Not anymore.I wasn’t sure what we were at this point.

He said, “I learned more about you last night than in all the years we’ve known each other.”

“Take it from me.Stop while you’re ahead.”I said it lightly, but I wasn’t joking.

Nor was Finn smiling as he said, “One of the things I originally liked about our friendship was how emotionally self-contained you were.When we were together, you were passionate and attentive and funny.I enjoyed every single minute of being with you.And when we were apart, I felt like that part of the relationship went back into a box.It was all about the work.You didn’t seem to need or want anything else from me.”He drew a breath that was partly a laugh.“Honest to God, it was perfect, ideal, for where I was at that point in my life.”

“Same.”

“I did notice that you rarely spoke about your past.Even direct questions, you seemed to ignore or evade with a joke.Which was interesting, because your affectisdirect.But actually, you rarely speak without thinking or tempering your response.I originally misread that for tact.And youarevery tactful.”He shrugged.“Either way, it didn’t matter to me.”

I said nothing.

“Gradually, I began to want more.More from our friendship.More from you.I think you recognized that right away.And it was plain you weren’t interested.You remained charming, affectionate, but the no trespassing signs were clearly posted.And I wasn’t about to risk what we had.I loved what we had.”

I’m not sure why that made my eyes sting.Because everything made my eyes sting now?I said huskily, “Same.”

“Anyway.Before I knew it, years had gone by, and you were the only person I was seeing, the only person I wanted.I went from thinking of our friendship to thinking of our relationship.I thought you were starting to see things differently, too.The phone calls would last longer.We spent more time together at conferences.You brought me that carved wood bookmark from Japan.And the sailboat bookends.You stock my favorite whisky in your liquor cabinet.I felt like you were opening up, emotionally for sure, but I still knew almost nothing about you.I knew you went to Columbia, so I assumed for years that you grew up in New York state.You never mentioned your parents.Not a word about family.I assumed…”

He stopped and I said, “Am I responsible for your assumptions?”

His eyes narrowed.“No.Not at all.But I was a cop for a long time.I’m trained to read inconsistencies, even subtle ones.I’m trained to notice when someone habitually redirects, deflects, or omits.And I’ve learned the hard way to trust my instincts when a story feels ‘off”—even if it’s from someone I care about.”

I nodded wearily.I knew it had to be something like this.