Page 22 of Persuaded

It would be the ninth, since Finn. Usually, Joshua hated New Years, but today he felt.

.. He felt like maybe the coming year could be different.

He’d seen Finn again, he’d seen him moving on, and knew he wasn’t coming back.

So maybe this year he could do the same.

Maybe he could move away at last. Maybe he could do something with his life.

He smiled. He would. He would do it. He lifted his bottle to drink again, a solitary toast to new beginnings.

When he lowered his bottle, he caught Finn’s gaze slipping away from him, as always.

* * *

“Secret Santa!”

Finn felt a ridiculous hum under his skin while Matt and Dee dished out the presents from beneath the tree. He distracted himself by giving Liz the present he’d bought her: Jean Patou perfume. It had always been successful with his other girlfriends, and Liz seemed delighted.

“Wow, Joy ? Finn, you shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to,” he said, with the same conviction he imbued every well-rehearsed line.

Beaming, she reached up to kiss him. Her lips tasted like punch, her smile a little sloppy. “You’re the best.”

He wasn’t, and he knew it for sure when his gaze slid toward Josh. Again. He sat on an ottoman near Sean’s oversized tree, wearing that heavy sweater with its frayed cuffs that Finn could imagine—

He deliberately didn’t imagine.

It was so hot in the room, with the fire and all the people, it was amazing Josh wasn’t melting. But Josh loved the heat—Finn remembered how he’d revel in it even when the sweat was glistening on his chest, in the hollow of his throat. Finn licked his lips, almost surprised he couldn’t taste salt.

“Here’s yours,” Matt said, startling him back to the present. He held out a neatly wrapped package. “Don’t open it until Sean says ‘Go.’”

He took it with a smile, feeling his stomach pitch as he glanced again at Josh. Thinking about it now, he’d been stupid to buy him something so expensive. Josh would guess. Everyone would guess...

Dee handed Josh his gift and he turned the package over in his hands—his long-fingered, musician’s hands. He was a fucking artist with those hands. And that mouth. Finn’s pulse kicked and he shifted where he perched on the arm of the chair, his cock stirring uncomfortably.

Damn it.

And damn Josh for standing up and pulling his sweater over his head. His shirt rode up with it, revealing a slice of tanned stomach and—God help him—a crest of sharp hipbone where his jeans hung low. He’d kissed that hipbone, run his tongue along it, down onto the concave plane of his stomach.

Finn swallowed the rest of his punch in one go and crossed his legs. In retrospect, the punch might have been a bad idea. His head swum, but Sean was already on his feet and there was nowhere for Finn to go so he gritted his teeth.

“Everyone got a gift? Okay...and...go!”

Amid rustling paper and laughter, everyone opened their present—some were probably funny, some sweet, some boring. Finn barely noticed. He barely noticed his own gift, because his attention was riveted on Josh.

Watching from the corner of his eye, he could see him past Tejana’s shoulder and Don’s knee.

Josh opened his gift with care—no ripping paper, each piece of tape sliced with a fingernail.

So very him. He unfolded the paper and Finn’s heart crawled up into his throat as Josh widened his eyes.

The gloves were leather, soft and lined with sheepskin, more than five bucks by a multiple of ten.

Josh’s head shot up and Finn fixed his eyes on his own gift: a chocolate vampire and a pointy stick.

Because he played a vampire hunter on TV—ha-ha.

In the periphery of his awareness he heard laughter, but ignored it as he snuck another look at Josh who was trying on one of his gloves, flexing his fingers into the leather. Looked like they fitted just right.

He felt a silly glow inside; no more freezing hands for Josh, no more fingers tucked up into the cuffs of his scruffy sweater. Those talented hands deserved more care.

Not that Finn cared; he was just being a good guy. Josh was broke and Finn was buying him a decent pair of gloves. What did fifty bucks mean to him? Nothing. It might as well have been five for all the difference the price made. It didn’t mean anything.

“I got yoga slippers!” Liz said, slurring the words a little. “Look, to stop me from slipping.” She made a show of narrowing her eyes as she guessed, “Dee, was this you...?”

Dee played innocent and so it went on around the room as everyone exclaimed and laughed. Finn took the general confusion as an opportunity to slip away into the kitchen. He needed a breather; it was too much, sometimes, all the people. He just needed to be alone for a while.

But even in the kitchen he could hear Liz calling his name and knew she’d be heading his way. So he grabbed his coat and ducked outside. The snow gleamed blue under an indigo sky, daylight fading and the first bright stars waking up. And it was freezing—too cold to stand around.

Across the garden he saw a glint where the garage windows caught the light bleeding out of the house.

Curling his fingers into fists, he thought, To hell with it, crunched over the snow and slid open the garage door.

He didn’t switch on the lights because he didn’t want to advertise his presence.

Besides, he wouldn’t be there for long. He just needed a few minutes to center himself.

Weaving his way between the cars, a familiar path even after all this time, he reached Newton’s vintage Mustang.

That car...

He walked around her, trailing his fingers along the cold metal.

The things they’d done in that car. He hesitated, but then opened the driver’s door and slipped behind the wheel.

It still felt familiar under his fingers, a sense-memory burned into him like everything else from that summer, smooth and sensual. Beautiful.

And then the memories came, vivid after being repressed for so long: Josh, straddling his lap, biting his shoulder to stifle his cry when he came, fingers drawing circles on Finn’s bare skin as they lay entwined on the back seat, their plans for the future whispered into the golden space between them.

They anchored him, those memories, trapped him in the past, tethered to something that still beat in his chest.

Love .

I still love him .

“I don’t,” he whispered, aloud. “I won’t .” His breath misted as his words faded into silence—a silence broken by the garage door sliding open.

Finn caught his breath, watching as someone slipped into the garage.

There was only one person who’d come out here tonight and he wondered whether Josh had followed him or whether this was just a terrible coincidence.

Finn couldn’t move, torn between jumping out of the car and leaving, or staying still and hoping Josh didn’t realize he was there. Or hoping that he did...

As the door slid shut again, Josh sank back against it. His relief at escaping the party was so apparent it made Finn smile. He could relate—parties were great until, suddenly, they were too much.

But it was getting weird now, him sitting there without Josh knowing. The longer he stayed hidden, the stranger it would be if Josh saw him. But he couldn’t bring himself to move, afraid of what he might do alone with Josh in this place where it had all begun between them.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have come here.

Josh sighed and pushed himself away from the door.

His boots scuffed on the concrete floor, his face all light and shadows.

That nose, so straight, those cheekbones, so fine—those eyes .

He couldn’t see them in the dark, but he could picture their vivid blue.

God, how he’d waxed lyrical about those eyes—how he’d kissed those delicate eyelids, the bridge of that nose.

Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Just get out of the damn car.

Josh perched on the hood of an old Chevy near the door, arms braced on his knees. Head bowed, he took a deep breath. He wasn’t wearing a coat, just that scrappy sweater that Finn could imagine beneath his hands, warm over Josh’s strong back. He closed his eyes, fingers tight on the steering wheel.

Get out of the damn car and run .

“Damn it,” Josh said suddenly, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Damn and fucking damn it.”

Josh had always been a hopeless curser—raised too refined for it—but his vehemence wiped Finn’s amusement away before it could form. His instinct to find out what was wrong had him twitching, but he checked himself with his hand on the car door. He couldn’t go to him. He wouldn’t .

“Okay”—Josh slid off the hood, boots hitting the floor with a thud—“stop being stupid. It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t mean anything, anyway. Just smile and—” He sucked in a breath, breathed it out. “Okay. Okay...”

And then he headed back to the door and Finn watched him, frozen until the decision was taken away from him and Josh was gone. Whatever might have happened in that dark garage hadn’t, and Finn was glad of it. He was.

The fact that he ached inside only made him more certain. Josh had already broken him once—he sure as hell wasn’t giving him the chance to do it twice.

* * *

After more food and an impromptu bout of drunken dancing, which Joshua carefully avoided by helping load the dishwasher, Ali and Lexa got everyone organized for a protracted torture session—aka: Truth or Dare.

Joshua was a heartbeat away from fetching his coat and fleeing—Don and Jude had already made their escape; running a hotel had some benefits—when Dee grabbed his arm. “You sit with me, Newt. Us old folks gotta stick together.”

He couldn’t think of an excuse so ended up sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, with Dee squeezed behind him and Lexa next to her mom. “Okay!” Lexa said. “Who’s first?”