Page 29 of Dirty Little Secret
“You guys coming?” Brady hollers down the hall. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Be right there,” I shout, stepping out of Finn’s warm embrace. “We better get back out there before people start to talk.”
“They’ve been talking about us for years, LT.”
“No, they haven’t,” I say, nudging his shoulder as we walk down the hall.
“Yes, they have. It’s not a secret how I feel about you because I never wanted it to be.” Pulling me to a stop just before we get to the end of the hall and in view of all our friends, Finn whispers in my ear, “And you, gorgeous, have a hard time keeping your eyes off of me.”
Screw food. All I want right now is Finn, naked. His hand on me, his mouth covering mine, thrusting into me so deep I can’t catch my breath.
“Finally,” Max states, irritation clear as he stares at us, his eyes dropping to our hands. That’s when I realize our fingers are still laced together.
Pulling away will make us look guilty. Continuing to hold his hand would give Max a reason to ask questions.
Finn makes the decision for us, casually releasing my hand and slinging his arm over my shoulder.
“So? How’d we do? Positive feedback welcome. Negative feedback means you’re not invited next time.”
Nice change of direction, Finn. He’s acting casual, as if nothing is wrong. However, I can feel the tension in his body as he speaks. He’s strung as tight as I am right now. He didn’t miss the way Max was looking at us. The accusation in his eyes.
Kendall giggles, holding up her finger as she chews. “Everything is great.”
Brady and Julian chime in with compliments of their own. All eyes fall to Max when he remains silent, still staring in our direction.
“Well?” I ask him. “What do you think? I even put the crunchy stuff on the salad we both love.”
“It’s good. What took you so long?” he finally asks.
“We were giving you guys some time to dig in,” Finn says. “Someonewas worried you guys wouldn’t like the food even though she rocked as my co-chef.”
“It’s called a sous chef,” Julian chimes in, his voice strained.
Dropping his arm from around my shoulder, Finn turns to fully face Julian, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, she was a terrific sous chef.”
“If you want to pretend to know what you’re doing at least know the lingo. Have you ever even worked in a restaurant?”
Oh, shit. Here we go.
“Don’t need to. My mama taught me how to cook and she’s the real deal.”
“I didn’t realize your mom was a chef. I thought that was my mom. Oh, wait. My momisa chef.”
Stepping between them, I hold out my hands and shake my head. “Unnecessary. Everyone shut up and eat.”
The only noise for the next thirty minutes is the scrape of forks across plates followed by the clatter of dishes as they’re loaded into the dishwasher. After the kitchen is cleaned up and all four bottles of wine are polished off, Kendall and I say our good-byes.
Finn’s hug is brief while Max seems to hold onto me longer than usual.
“Call me later,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to talk to you about something.”
I’m sure he does. More than likely the fact I was holding hands with his best friend.
All I do is nod against his shoulder and step back, avoiding eye contact. It makes me look guilty, but I don’t stop myself. I am guilty. I feel guilty. I don’t like lying to my brother and I’m terrible at it. One look at me and he’ll know everything I’m thinking.
“Well, that was interesting,” Kendall says as she slips into the passenger seat of my car.
“Big or small, any gathering at Max’s tends to be interesting.”