Page 27

Chapter twenty-six

Finn

By the time we make it back to Foxx’s building, the wind has picked up. The tip of my nose is cold, and my fingers are stiff where they grip the donut box. The walk wasn’t far, but the cold has a way of settling in and staying there, and I can’t quite shake it.

Eugene climbs the front steps ahead of us like the morning didn’t touch him.

He’s got the agility of someone my age. In fact, I’ve seen younger people move slower than him.

He stops at his door, keys already in hand.

“I need my mid-morning nap, so I’ll see you both later.

” Just as he’s about to disappear, he turns again.

“You coming round over Christmas this year, Finn?”

The question catches me off guard. It’s not that far away, maybe, like, two weeks or something, but that feels like what real couples do, and we’re so new at this whole situationship. I decide to go with... “I’m spending it with my family.”

He nods and leaves, then I turn to Foxx, not addressing the question that Eugene just bombed us with, opting to give him a lighter topic. “Does ‘later’ mean he’ll be coming over for dinner?”

Foxx pushes his key into the lock. “It could mean anything. Just be thankful he doesn’t have a key.”

I step in close behind him as he pushes the door open, making sure my mouth is close to his ear. “I’m glad he doesn’t have a key, because I’d like to be alone with you for a little while.”

Just as the door unlocks, he pauses, rolling his shoulders back into me with a moan that’s almost undetectable, but I feel it rumble in his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move away either.

I’m not used to being needy, and I didn’t think I’d ever be. I’ve always been good at keeping people at a distance. But I guess after last night, he’s brought something out in me that I don’t want to push away. I want to lean into it—this pull, this strange gravity between us, even if it’s casual.

But… There’s a but now. And I hate it. Because it means I’m starting to want more than what we promised. Moments like this, when he doesn’t flinch as I touch him, doesn’t ask me to let go, that I forget that it’s all temporary.

He’s warm pressed against my chest, and I want to hold on tighter. Just for a second longer. Just until he says I can’t. And maybe spending some of the holidays together is allowed, right? I mean, festive sex sounds great to me. Santa hats and blow jobs sounds like a great time.

“You’re cold,” he says as he steps fully into his apartment.

The scent of him envelops me. Woodsy, fresh, a little spicy, too, as we walk inside, removing our outer layers, and I vow to leave here with this beanie hat.

In fact, I plan on wearing it to class next week.

I’ll start the torture small to begin with.

Beanie hat first before I wear one of his shirts, smelling like him while he teaches me math equations.

“There are plenty of ways you can warm me up.”

He smiles as he moves toward the living room, and I trail after him. We both sink onto the couch, and he grabs his glasses to check his emails, just as I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I see a message from Daphne with a picture of Rosie on a swing, smiling with her little gums.

“She’s a really cute baby,” Foxx says, surprising me. I wasn’t hiding my phone from him at all, so I don’t mind that he saw. “I can see why you’d want to stick around here for her.”

“She’s lucky she got the James genes.”

Foxx lets out a deep chuckle as he pushes me back to the couch and brings my legs to drape over his. “I can’t believe I thought you and Daphne were… Never mind.”

“Yeah, you jumped to conclusions real fast. I couldn’t even get a word in, and you zoomed outta that coffee shop like your ass was on fire.”

He scoffs, a flush staining the side of his neck. “I never asked, who’s the father? Are they together?”

“Do you know Hudson Parker? He plays for the Wildcats, their linebacker. They’re together and very happy.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, and it’s so fucking cute, the way his nose wrinkles and eyebrows pinch. “I think he was in my freshman classes, but I can’t be sure. A lot of students come through my doors; it’s hard to keep track sometimes.”

“Except me,” I say, just as his strong hands find the arch of my foot. “Oh my god,” I groan, losing all sense of decorum.

He pauses for a split second, and when I look at his face, he’s frowning. “Except you.”

“If you let all your students sleep over and hijack your Saturday mornings and do unspeakable things to your body, I might be a bit concerned— Oh god , yes, that feels so good,” I hiss as he presses against the pads of my foot.

My head drops back onto the arm of the couch as he continues massaging, and I float away into heaven. “Pretty sure I only need one of you.”

He’s teasing, but there’s truth buried in it, a fondness that I’m only now hearing, and it’s like sunlight is warming me all over. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s unlocking some kind of foot massaging fetish I never knew I had until now.

Then his hands pause, and I wiggle my toes. “The massaging went away.”

“Thank you for this morning,” he begins as he moves to the other foot, and I have to stifle a satisfied sigh when he begins again. “You shared a lot with me, and Eugene, today, and it was good to hear the whole story. I’m sorry about your friend.”

“God, you’re really good at that,” I say, reaching for something lighter, hoping to edge away from how my chest aches at his words. Joking is easier. Distraction I know how to do. Vulnerability still feels like walking into a dark room where I have to find the key.

But then he squeezes my foot gently, grounding me, and when I glance up, he hasn’t changed his focus. His eyes don’t falter, and there’s that stillness to him that I’m beginning to like a lot.

Something shifts inside me. A quiet unspooling that somehow puts me at ease.

I don’t move. I don’t look away. I just stay there, held in the quiet intensity of his gaze, and let myself be seen like I did earlier.

It’s uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time, which makes no sense, but I think I need it.

I surprised myself today. I said more than I meant to.

But I can’t take it back now. And I don’t think I want to.

My throat closes up, because I can tell he sees me.

Not just the version I present when I want to be wanted, but all of it.

The mess. The grief. The gray space I don’t know how to climb out of.

“I, uh, didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face.

“That wasn’t what you did at all.” He resumes with his talented fingers, to gently coax more warm fuzzies out of me, and I’m putty again. “I’m glad you felt safe enough to share that with me. I mean, us.”

I think I wanted to, that night at his place. I almost said it. Almost opened the door to my past. But the words caught in my throat and never made it out. It felt like maybe I could say the thing and not have it take me under. That I might still float afterward.

“I’m glad you know now,” I whisper.

Foxx nods, his touch slowing. “I can’t imagine carrying something like that alone.”

“I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t upset me as much,” I admit. “Turns out, silence doesn’t make it lighter. Just makes it lonelier.”

Foxx shifts toward me, his hands warm as they rest on my calf. “You know it’s okay to follow another dream if it’s what you need to do to move on.”

“I know.” At least, in theory, I do. “I think I could make something from a career in physical therapy. I just don’t know if I could let myself enjoy it fully,” I say. “Sometimes, it still feels like I’m not allowed to feel joy. Like moving forward in any capacity means I’m letting go of him.”

His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Do you think he’d want that? For you to hold on to it like a punishment? Or to keep yourself from moving on and living how you want to live, whether that’s school or surfing again?”

I let out a slow breath. “I don’t think so, but it’s complicated.” That’s the only answer I have.

Foxx acknowledges what I’m not saying somehow and smiles at me softly. “I teach math, so complications are literally my whole world.”

I smile at that too. “You sure you want this math problem? I come with missing data and way too many variables.”

His hands grip under my hips, urging me closer, so I oblige until my back hits the couch, my legs practically wrapped around his middle as he hovers over me. “I’ve always had a thing for complex data sets.”

I groan, reaching up to remove his glasses, even though I plan to use them to my fantasy advantage in the future, but right now, I need to kiss him. “Mmm, talk algebra to me. You’re sexy when you’re nerdy.”

His laugh is short, but it lingers as he looks into my eyes. Those dark pools see right to something that I’ve been scared to share with anyone, and it doesn’t scare him off. If anything, sometimes I feel him searching deeper, wanting more.

Then he dips his head and kisses me again like we’ve got all the time in the world, and somewhere between his hands on my back and the heat building between us, I find that sliver of peace I’ve been chasing.