Page 54 of A Little Secret
“We will. And, Ev?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being awesome.”
“Love you, too, Fin.”
The call ends, and I set my phone on the counter, grasping the edge of the cool surface. I don’t want to go back to bed. The idea of snuggling next to Griffin is a badidea, especially after the reality check with Ev, but climbing into cold sheets feels like I’m succumbing to my lackluster future. I peek through the cracked door again, giving myself a minute to appreciate Griffin in all his shirtless glory. Moving toward the shower, I turn the stupid thing to its hottest setting, rest my forehead against the cold tile, and wait for the water to heat up.
My pajamas smell like him. Like the guy I slept next to. He’s leaving. He has to leave. He has plans. Plans I’ve known about for years. Plans he’s worked so hard for. Plans that have nothing to do with me, and honestly, that’s okay. Besides, I’m the one who climbed into his bed. Who threw myself at him. And even though it was a pretty epic kiss last night, maybe that’s all it needs to be. All it should be.
A kiss.
I mean, he’s the one who pulled away first. He probably already knows pursuing something is a bad idea. It just took me a minute longer to come to the same conclusion. That’s all.
I put my hand under the spray, strip down to my birthday suit, and step into the shower, letting the liquid heat flow down my body before grabbing the soap and washing every inch of me.
My brother’s right about one thing. I’ve never been alone, and now that I have a baby inside of me, I never will be. But that’s okay. And so is accepting my situation with Griffin.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
GRIFFIN
Iwake with a groan and cover my eyes with my bicep. “What time is it?”
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead,” Finley says. She sounds farther away than I expect. Forcing my eyelids open, I check the bed, but it’s empty. She’s next to the window, the blackout curtains pulled back, and her long, dark hair damp from what looks like a shower.
“What time did you wake up?” I croak.
Checking the time on her phone, she answers, “About an hour ago,” before slipping her cell back into her pocket. “I’ve showered. I’ve gotten ready. And I’m officially starting myI don’t give a shit, and I need no manera.”
I sit up a little straighter, pressing my back to the headboard. “What?”
“I want to thank you for last night,” she adds. “I really needed…I don’t know. A moment to know I’m not alone or something?” She shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t even know,” she repeats, “but thank you. You seriously gave me exactly what I needed to get through all of this. I even fed Frankie without having a meltdown, and if that isn’t the definition ofa strong, independent woman, I don’t know what is.” With a grin, she adds, “I’m going to grab some coffee at the Starbucks down the street. Do you want anything?”
My brows bunch as I study her. “Uh…I’m…good?”
“You sure?” She laughs. “You look tired.”
I’m confused as fuck is what I am.
“Uh,” I scrub my hand over my face. “Are we good?”
“Yeah, why wouldn't we be?”
“Because we kissed last night, and you’re…”
“I’m what?” she asks.
My eyes narrow as I take her in. The perfectly done makeup. The perfectly chosen outfit. The perfectly constructed defenses she’s gathered around herself since I fell asleep with her in my arms. There are pros and cons to knowing someone the way I know Finley. Learning what makes a person tick and what constitutes strange behavior, like the doppelganger in front of me. She might look like Finley and smell like Finley, but she isn’t Fin. Or, at least, not the Fin I consoled last night. No, this isfake-it-til-you-make-it-Fin, and it pisses me off.
“I’ll get you a mocha,” she decides. “Why don’t you shower while I’m gone, then we’ll head out?”
She steps closer to the hotel’s door, but as she scoots around the edge of the bed, I reach out and grab her wrist, keeping her in place.
“Fin,” I say.
She looks down at where I’m touching her. “Yes?”