Page 16 of Persuaded

“He was great.” Still a little muzzy, Joshua retrieved his book. “So did you have a good—?” And then he saw Finn hovering in the doorway. “Ah.” Suddenly wide awake, he jolted to his feet. “I’ll get out of your way.”

He didn’t look at either of them as he shoved his feet into his boots and looked around for his coat. But his mind had gone blank, wiped clean by the need to escape. He couldn’t bear to be there any longer.

“I really appreciate this,” Liz said. “Seriously. Thanks so much, Newt.”

“Anytime.” He almost choked on the lie. And where had he left his damned coat? In the hall. He’d left it in the hall.

Finn skulked in the doorway like an awkward teenager, eyes on the floor, and lurched out of the way when Joshua said, “Excuse me.” Even so, something electric jumped between them as he brushed past and he wondered whether Finn felt it too.

“I hope you didn’t park too far away,” Liz said, following him into the hall. “It’s nasty out.”

He made a face and pulled on his jacket. “Not too far, no. Night, Liz.” Another half glance at Finn. “Night, Finn.”

Finn caught his eye, hesitant yet frowning like he was looking for something in his expression. “I didn’t see your car out front.”

“It’s just...” He made a vague gesture. “Anyway, happy Thanksgiving.” And then he was out the door and standing on the porch, watching a thick, sleety rain whip past. Great.

He pulled up his hood and headed out into the night, shoulders hunched. Twenty minutes and he’d be home.

Warming himself with thoughts of hot tea, a bath, and Dee’s pumpkin pie waiting for him tomorrow, he trudged through the rain.

He’d been walking for a few minutes when a car rolled up behind him and slowed down to crawl at his side.

Startled, he stepped back. In the dark and the rain he didn’t recognize the car at first, but then the passenger window rolled down and Finn called out, “Get in, I’ll give you a ride. ”

Joshua stared. “What are you doing?”

“I’m offering you a ride home. Get in.”

“You don’t need to.” He peered at Finn in confusion. Why was he there? “Go back to Liz’s.”

“I’m heading to Sean’s. I can give you a ride.”

Water dripped off the end of Joshua’s nose and he shivered in the freezing rain. “That’s not necessary. It’s not far.”

“Just get in the damn car, Josh.” Finn’s fingers clenched and relaxed on the steering wheel. “Look, you’re letting the rain inside. Would you just get in?”

He supposed it would be childish to refuse.

Maybe Finn had decided they could be adults about this after all?

“All right then,” he said and pulled open the door, slipping into the passenger seat.

The window rolled up next to him, cutting off the sound of the rain.

Inside, everything was quiet. Not even the engine made much noise as Finn pulled away from the curb and onto the empty road.

From the corner of his eye, Joshua watched him. Finn’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his shoulders tense. “So what happened to your piece of crap car?” he said at last, throwing Joshua a quick sideways glance.

“It’s fine,” he said, bristling at the insult on principle. “I just prefer to walk.”

Finn snorted an unamused laugh. “You’re a crap liar, Josh.”

He didn’t answer that; Finn was right and Joshua had nothing to add. Instead he looked out the window at the wind-blown trees and the slushy rain building up at the corner of the windshield.

The car slowed. “You need to tell me which way,” Finn said.

Because, of course, he didn’t know where Joshua lived anymore.

He tried not to feel embarrassed about their relative wealth, his fall from grace.

It wasn’t like he’d earned any of the privilege he’d grown up with and he felt proud of the fact that he supported himself now, that he wasn’t beholden to his wretched family and their shady business dealings.

Still, Finn probably lived in some kind of Hollywood mansion and Joshua’s rented cottage would look extremely modest by comparison.

“Josh?”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Turn right here and then take the second right after that. Sandy Lane.”

“I remember Sandy Lane... Always made me think of a lounge room singer.”

Joshua huffed a laugh before he could stop himself and it hovered between them, a painful echo of the connection they’d once enjoyed.

The turn signal ticked, the car ghosting silently through the rain.

Expensive, Joshua thought, probably Sean’s.

Finn would never own something this corporate.

He wanted to ask what car Finn drove now, but it felt too much like something friends would talk about and he and Finn. .. Well, they weren’t that.

Finn slowed the car and turned onto Joshua’s street. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, the air filling with the sense of words hanging, of everything being unspoken. Joshua didn’t know how to break the silence, or whether he should. He cleared his throat. “It’s just here, on the right.”

Pulling over, Finn squinted through the windshield at the little cottage. Joshua had left a light on, glowing through the swaying branches of the silver maple out front.

“That’s it?” Finn said, like he couldn’t believe it.

Joshua stiffened. “Go ahead and gloat”—he reached for the door handle—“I don’t care.”

“What?”

He started to get out. “Thanks for the ride, Finn.”

“Hey.” Finn grabbed his arm, stopping him. “I wasn’t gloating.”

Joshua said nothing, his attention snared by the feel of Finn’s hand on his arm. It felt electric, even through the layers of his jacket and sweater.

Letting go, Finn flexed his fingers. “I was gonna—” He cleared his throat. “If you need to borrow a car tomorrow, you could take Sean’s. He won’t mind.”

Nonplussed, Joshua said, “What do you mean?”

“Your car’s a piece of shit, man. The tires are half bald. You shouldn’t drive it in this weather, even if the damn thing does start in the morning. So you can borrow Sean’s car.”

“I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.”

“But I thought—Your family’s in New York, right?”

Joshua stared at him. “Well, my father’s in Gowanda Correctional Facility. It’s in upstate New York, if that’s what you mean. But I don’t think they offer Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I meant your brother,” Finn said, tight-lipped.

Joshua looked away, hurt. “Maybe you’ve forgotten. We don’t exactly get along.”

“But you told Sean—”

“I didn’t tell him anything. Frankly, it’s none of his—or your—business.” This time he got the car door open, felt a blast of sleety rain hit his cheek. “Goodnight, Finn.”

He hurried across the sidewalk and up the path to his cottage.

Glancing back once, just before he closed the door, he saw Finn pull the car away from the curb.

With his forehead pressed against the front door he listened until he couldn’t even pretend to hear the engine purr and tried not to remember the heat of Finn’s hand on his arm again after all these years.