Page 94 of Kill Your Darlings

Finn said quietly, “It’s up to you, Keir.There is a risk.I won’t lie to you.But I think it’s our best shot at ending this now before any more damage is done.”

I had no idea what the right decision was.This was Finn’s area of expertise.Not mine.His proposal terrified me.But it wasn’t as though I had a better plan.

I let out a long weary breath, nodded.“Okay.If you think this is the way.When do you want to talk to him?”

“I don’t want to give him a heads up.I think we pay him a surprise visit early tomorrow.”

“What if he won’t see us?”

“If we’re right, he’s absolutely going to want to see you.Even if we’re wrong, he’d probably be willing to give you a few minutes of his time.”Finn’s smile was sardonic.“That smart kid he sent Christmas presents to?Hell yeah, he’ll see you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The floor-to-ceiling windows cast angled blocks of moonlight across the room.

Building blocks?Cell blocks?

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep much,” I admitted when Finn climbed into bed a few minutes after me.

He gave a funny laugh, reached out, and I moved into the circle of his arm.He smelled comfortingly familiar: soap, toothpaste, himself.

“I never thought we’d do this again,” I said.

“Sleep?Me neither.”I could feel his smile although I continued to watch the indigo dome of sky tilt and slide its bowl full of stars into the ocean, the glittery reflection spilling across the rippled black water.Beyond the harbor, dark silhouettes of fishing boats rocked gently in their slips, deck lights casting pale halos onto the inky water.

His words registered.I made a sound of amusement, turning my face up and, still smiling, he dropped a kiss on my mouth.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered.I was happy in this instant, but that hole in my heart still ached a little.

Finn hesitated, said quietly, “I kept waiting for that moment when I knew I’d made the right choice.It never came.”

The next time his mouth brushed mine, it wasn’t a kiss so much as gravity—the force by which one body draws another toward its center.We closed the gap, held each other tightly, silently, breathing in soft unison.

Just held each other.

I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent, feeling the rebellious softness of his hair, hearing the roughness of emotion in his breathing.

“I’m so sorry, Keir.”His voice was barely a whisper.“I never meant to hurt you.It kills me to think I’d be the one to cause you pain.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured.“We’re okay.”

His instincts had been correct, after all.I had been harboring dangerous secrets, secrets that could harm him, too.

I slid my fingers into his hair, holding his face still, gazing into the colorless gleam of his eyes.

“I love you.”

I’d only ever said it twice in my life, and my heart thudded as though I’d suddenly leaped from a balcony, dropped into empty sky.

He made a sound that seemed closer to pain than pleasure.His mouth found mine, his lips surprisingly soft.I opened to him, tasted his answer.

For a moment we stayed like that, lips barely brushing, eyelashes flickering, soft, unsteady breaths.When we kissed again, we were both tender, both reassuring.Yes, there was wear and tear.Damage had been done.But nothing that couldn’t be repaired with time and patience.

At least the harm Finn had done had been inflicted without malice.Even before we’d thought of reconciling, he’d tried to undo some of the damage.

He pulled me in carefully, then more firmly, and I let myself be held, wanted to be held.It was lovely to be stroked and caressed, lovely when it was Finn, who knew when and where to touch lightly, delicately, when and where I liked his demands and urgency.From our first time together, he’d seemed to instinctively understand things about me I barely understood myself.That I did not like roughness or grabbing or surprises.I did not like to be rushed.

He whispered, “I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”