Page 25

Chapter twenty-five

Foxx

I wake to the smell of coffee and immediately shoot upright in bed. Blinking into the low light of the room, I realize it must be morning. That sweet, subtle scent registers in my senses again as I squint to the empty spot beside me.

My feet hit the cool wooden floor with a thud, and I stumble across the room like a newborn foal still tangled in sleep, knocking my hip into the dresser, catching my toe on the bed frame hard enough to curse. “Ah, fuck!”

There’s a sudden clatter from the kitchen that makes me forget all about my injuries, and just as I reach for the door handle, it swings inward, narrowly missing an already throbbing toe to reveal Finn.

He’s wearing boxers and one of my t-shirts, an old grey college one from CLU that’s a little oversized on him. I usually wear it for exercising, but seeing him in it makes me want to find another shirt and let him keep that one.

It takes me a minute to realize he’s holding a mug in one hand and looking far too at home in my doorway. His hair is a mess, curls a little flattened on one side, but he still manages to make my stomach flip.

“Morning.” He grins, easy and warm. “Sorry if I woke you. You were dead to the world. Figured I’d make myself useful.” He steps forward, words still evading me, and holds out the mug. “Here. You looked like you need it.”

I take it from him without thinking. Our fingers brush, just barely.

But it lands somewhere deep and still lust-drunk inside me with the memory of what we did last night.

Somewhere in my mind, there’s a miniature devil version of myself telling me to jump him, kiss him, thank him for being so cute and thoughtful but, fortunately, my self-control is taking the reins.

Clearing my throat, I murmur my thanks and sip the coffee.

It’s black and unsweetened, which makes me hesitate…

“Do you know how I take my coffee?” I ask as he walks into the room and sits on the bed with a comfortability that nudges that voice in my head again.

“Wild guess, you’re all broody and serious, so I went with black no sugar. Was I wrong?”

I take another sip, letting the caffeine work its magic on my hazy brain and body. “No, you were exactly right.”

His grin turns triumphant and does a sensational job of coaxing my own out of hiding, along with a pleasant feeling that blankets me, as though I’m submerging into a hot tub. “Jeez, if all it took for you to smile at me like that was to guess your coffee order, I would’ve done it sooner.”

I shake my head with a laugh, but the smile lingers, as does the giddy feeling.

He’s made himself very much at home here already with my shirt, and in my kitchen, and maybe it’s something that confuses me because that was my role in my marriage.

I used to make coffee and be up first. I guess I’m changing?

Either that, or I like having him here, which is far too soon to admit that out loud.

Walking back toward the bed, I set my mug down on the nightstand. He shifts to make space as I sit beside him, the mattress dipping slightly between us.

“So what do you normally do on Saturdays?”

I think for a brief second before the answer knocks at my door. “Shit,” I hiss as I jump to my feet.

Finn’s eyebrows knit as he looks between me and the distant door. “What is it? Should I be concerned? Is there another ex-husband I don’t know about yet?”

I run a hand through my hair. “No, it’s just Eugene,” I say, my nerves spiking. “He’s my neighbor, the eighty-year-old friend I told you about. We always go to the farmers’ market together on weekends.”

His hand flies to his chest, mouth open in awe. “Oh, that’s adorable. I want to meet him.”

I shoot him a look. “You say that now, but he’s got…gumption.”

Finn throws his head back and laughs, exposing the long line of his throat.

There’s a faint red mark just below his left ear—it’s barely there, but I notice it because I’m the one who put it there.

A wave of heat rises in my body, caught somewhere between pride and need.

I clear my throat, willing my brain back to the conversation and not lingering on what we did last night.

We didn’t talk much after, both tired and satisfied, but my ego took that win and slept with a smile.

“I’ve been looking after a baby for the last few months,” Finn says, straightening, still grinning. “I can handle Eugene.”

I huff a laugh, letting it roll through me, distracting my wayward thoughts. “Famous last words.”

The knock comes again, three sharp, impatient taps, followed by a voice muffled through the wood. “Foxx, we need to get going or we’ll miss our apple cider donuts, and I need a sugar fix.”

I grab a shirt and sweats from the drawer, pull them on, and head to the door. I know Finn is following me because I can practically feel the anticipation wafting off of him. I should probably apologize or set more boundaries, but instead I find myself pulling the door open to reveal Eugene.

He shuffles into the apartment, clutching another filled Tupperware container. It looks like soup this time, and a rolled-up copy of the local newspaper. “I still need to get my other Tupperware back from you,” he says, by way of greeting. “Did you finish the meatloaf?”

“Good morning, Eugene,” I reply, my voice still rough with sleep.

Eugene finally looks up and sees Finn.

He pauses, those grey-blue eyes round and wide. Shuffling a little closer, he takes in the still half-naked man in my house, which happens….never. His eyebrows drag down slowly, but Finn doesn’t shrink under the stare. He smiles. “Hi.”

Eugene hardens his stare. “You’re new.”

“I am.” He steps forward, extending his hand. “I’m Finn. Nice to meet you, Eugene.”

He takes his hand, holding his grip for a second, then drops it when he’s satisfied, never once commenting on the fact that Finn isn’t wearing pants. “You like apple cider donuts, Finn?”

“Can’t say I’ve tried them before. But I respect anything sugar-coated and fried.”

Eugene nods once. “Then today’s the day.” He turns and begins to move, barely glancing at me, before swiveling around to look at him again. “You coming?”

Finn tries to hide a smile but fails as he looks my way.

I huff an amused noise. “Apparently, you’ve been invited.”

Eugene’s already halfway out the door. “Five minutes, kids. Wear shoes, and pants, preferably.”

Finn watches him go, then spins back toward me with a grin that lights up his whole face.

His eyes are bright, full of trouble. He actually bounces on the balls of his feet once, like he can’t quite contain the thrill.

“You didn’t tell me I was meeting your Saturday boyfriend,” he says, singing the last word, eyebrows raised, practically vibrating with delight.

I groan into my hands. “Don’t let him hear that.”

“Such a busy man.” He pats my chest twice. “Ex-husband. Saturday boyfriend. Fuck buddy. Where do you find the time, Professor?”

I arch an eyebrow at the fuck buddy comment. “You’d better watch it, or I’ll revoke your Saturday privileges.”

Finn throws a wink over his shoulder as he heads for the bedroom. “What makes you think I’m not aiming for Sunday through Friday?”

***

Two things I’ve learned this morning. One is that Finn has enough charisma to get us a free tray of apple cider donuts.

The level of blush he achieved with Mariella and her mom was practically nuclear; he had them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Consider me officially impressed because Mariella’s mom is borderline impossible to win over.

It’s taken me years to get on her good side, and even so, she won’t share her caramel sauce recipe with me.

I bet Finn could coax it out of her… That’s something I may have to exploit in the future.

And two, is that he and Eugene are like kindred spirits.

I don’t know if I should be scared or happy.

They have the same dry sense of humor and cheeky one-liners that I’m sure they’ve studied at some point in their lives to be so seamless in their delivery.

They’ve spent the morning cackling and comparing notes.

I’ve actually never been happier to be a third wheel.

Oh, and a bonus third. Finn looks so fucking cute in my beanie hat he stole from my cupboard. His blonde ends flick out from under it, and the burgundy color highlights the blues of his eyes. I’m dumbstruck every time I look at him.

I’ve hovered near them, but let them walk together mostly. It’s not lost on me that I may see someone from work here, student or faculty, so I’m trying to resist being too close to the one person whose brand of sunshine seems to call to me.

They’ve been talking for fifteen minutes straight about school and life.

“I had no idea Foxx was such a rule breaker,” Eugene says, turning to meet my eyes.

I roll mine in response. I’m not sure I knew I was either until Finn, but I don’t say that.

I remain quiet as we walk, but I can’t ignore the complication that’s webbed between Finn and me.

I’m nearly a decade older, having already lived through classes he’s just stepping into.

And yet I can’t seem to deny myself with him.

“So physical therapy, huh?” Eugene turns and continues the conversation, and that perks my ears up. Finn and I haven’t covered what he wants to do with the night classes he’s taking.

“It’s just an idea, but it’s been on my mind since my sister Daphne had Rosie at least. One of the sciences I’m taking is anatomy class, so we’ll see if I survive it this year.”

I know the professor for that class, Dr. Crane. He’s a great teacher, one who Cedar Lakes has tried to recruit multiple times.

“I think I’d like to help athletes at their peak and their worst,” he says with a knowing that comes from experience, and whatever I felt a minute ago quiets. Because whatever worry I felt, I know it’s not about age, it’s about who he is as a person.