Page 27 of The Nicest Thing

It wasn't a lie. I really was tired. Closing my eyes, nodding off to dreamland, forgetting everything for a few hours would've been so welcome.

I also needed sleep to be at the top of my game tomorrow—assuming we didn't get eaten by bears, or smote down by a freak lightning strike, and made it to the conference.

There was only one problem. After we'd blown out all the candles, as I walked to the bed and got under the covers, Finn stepped up to the other side.

He removed his shirt, lifted the thin comforter, and laid down next to me.

I teetered on the very edge of the bed.

Finn was probably doing the same.

It felt like there was a large chasm between us—as much as the queen bed would allow. But…also like there was no space at all?

That made no sense, but it was true.

I was so very aware of him. Every inhale, every exhale, the even tempo of his breathing, any small movement, I knew when it happened. I was awake and attuned to Finn. And…damn, I didn't think I'd be able to sleep like this.

Staring up at the ceiling, I laid there like a statue, stiff and cold.

Finn cleared his throat. "You have enough blanket?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "You?"

"I'm not the one shivering again."

"I'm fine." My teeth chattered slightly, and I tried to stop the shaking, which only made it worse.

Finn sighed.

And then…

"Screw this," he mumbled. In the next breath, he'd pulled me across the bed until I was resting with half my body over his chest. "That's better."

"What—Finn, you'll never be able to rest like this," I said.

"Want to bet?"

"I'm too heavy," I protested.

"No, you're perfect."

My heart fluttered at that. Finn had one arm wrapped around my back, and as the fingers of that hand played against my spine, my breath caught.

"And you'll sleep better this way since I run hot."

"You run hot?" I repeated incredulously.

He gave a small shrug, and I was close enough that even in the dark, I saw his lips tug up on one side.

"Finn, seriously."

"What?" he said. "I've never been so comfortable."

Calling his bluff, I hitched my leg over his waist and pulled him closer.

"This okay?" I asked, fighting back a smile, positive he was about to throw me off.

Instead, Finn reached down and ran his hand over my thigh.

"Perfect," he rasped.

"You—"

"Try to sleep, Rose."

"Not likely," I muttered.

But despite my absolute certainty that neither of us would fall asleep, as I listened to Finn's heart beating, basked in his warmth against my cheek, I felt my eyes growing heavier.

"What if they don't get the road cleared?" I said.

"Then we'll find another way," Finn said simply.

"What if lightning strikes me for being a liar?"

"I'll cover your body with mine and take the hit for you."

A beat passed. "What if the storm gets worse, and we die in this cabin?"

"I could think of worse ways to go then with a beautiful woman wrapped around me."

"Finn," I murmured sleepily. "I'm serious. I can't be responsible for your death. Your my best friend."

"I am," he said.

"You're my favorite."

"And you're mine."

My eyes fell shut, and I was lulled into semi-consciousness by the rhythm of his breathing.

"Rose, I need to tell you something."

"Hmmm?"

How could someone so muscly be so comfortable?

"It's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time."

You can tell me anything.

"When I first saw you, I thought that is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life," Finn said in a hushed whisper. "I had to get to know you. And everything I learned I loved."

The "most beautiful woman" thing is absurd, but you're so sweet.

"I love how passionate you are about writing. I love that your mind is as beautiful as the rest of you. I love how kind you are to everyone, even if they don't deserve it. I love how much you care about your family. I love your books because they're a part of you."

He took a deep breath.

"You're my best friend, Rose. And I know this isn't the ideal time, but if I don't say it now, I'm not sure I ever will. I hope it doesn't ruin anything."

My brow furrowed. I wanted to tell Finn that he could never, ever ruin something. He made everything better. But I was nearly asleep and couldn't get the words out.

"I'm in love with you," Finn said. "I love you, Rose. I want to keep being your best friend. I want to keep you forever. You and me, we're that hit-it-out-of-the-park kind of love. The forever kind. The kind you write about in your books. I've loved you for years. I'll love you always."

A moment passed.

"Rose? Did you hear me?"

He released a quiet sigh.

"And she's asleep. Perfect."

Finn kissed the top of my head, grip tightening slightly on my hip before relaxing.

He didn't say anything else. Didn't have to.

He fell asleep soon after, his breath deepening, body going lax.

Part of me wondered if I was dreaming, but as creative as my imagination was, it had never been this good or this kind.

Finn O'Brien was in love with me.

My body may have been tired, but my mind was fully awake.

I knew what I heard. My best friend just confessed his love—and he wasn't aware I heard every word.

My heart wanted to believe it. Sure, the cabin was cold, but it was magical.

The darkness. The way Finn held me. Anything could happen here.

But some part of me, the part that always insisted unrequited love was the only thing I would ever experience, had a hard time believing.

Eventually, sleep pulled me under, but two questions burned bright in my mind.

Was Finn really in love?

Or did he just think he was?