Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)(28)

I groan, considering he claimed he’d keep his hands to himself the first time we said goodnight―the first time I told him I had to get inside, I’m thinking short of tying him to the bed―which when it comes to Finn sounds very appealing―no way are either of us going to behave if we return to his house.

“Finn,” I say when he unsnaps my bra, gasping when he tugs on my nipple.

“Yeah?” he rasps, slipping both hands beneath my shirt to play.

That rasp―the way his tone drops when he’s turned on?—how have I not had sex with him yet?

Don’t call me a tramp. Please don’t. I’ve only slept with three men. One was a guy I dated for over a year who broke my heart when he dumped me for someone else. The other two . . . well, they were idiots, too.

Finn isn’t an idiot. He’s sweet and, and . . . he unsnaps my jeans, slipping his hand in. I jump when he touches me in just the right spot. It’s then he pulls away, slumping in his seat and breathing hard. “Too much?” he asks.

It’s not. I’m ready to do more. But Sofia is waiting for me. “I have to check on my mother,” I say.

My phone rings. I jump again when I see it’s Sofia calling. “Hey,” I say, trying to pull my shirt down, as if she can see the half-naked position I’m in.

“Hi, Sol. Are you having a good time?”

I glance over at Finn, who apparently can hear her. He laughs when I answer, “Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Her small voice gathers an edge of affection. “I’ll admit, I adore him,” she says.

I try not to laugh when he puffs out his chest, not daring to admit that I feel the same way. A few weeks, that’s all it’s really been since we started seeing each other―even though I kept telling myself I should keep my distance. But I can’t. Not from Finn. And truthfully, I don’t want to.

We’ve gone out a lot; to dinner, a couple of movies, we even hit a few bars with friends. I meant to keep it casual, intended not to get too physical, and promised myself I wouldn’t fall for this guy. But then the casual became a little more intense, the small petting sessions turned more passionate, and . . . who am I fooling? I totally stumbled and face-planted over Finn.

It’s like I can’t breathe until I see him.

We’re not inseparable, not with all his training for his upcoming match―and especially not between my internship and my poor mother. But when we see each other, we make it count, and it’s like we haven’t been apart.

“Sol?” Sofia asks.

But Finn’s already back on my side, nibbling on my neck. “Yes?” I ask, hoping she can’t tell how hard I’m fighting back a moan.

Sofia’s voice falls to whisper. “My mother just arrived. She says she can spend the night. So if you’re not ready to come home, you don’t have to.”

“What?” I say, glancing at Finn. He lifts his head, frowning. I realize he didn’t hear Sofia and thinks something is wrong. Maybe it’s the shock my expression carries, and maybe it’s also the nervousness I suddenly feel. This is my opportunity to be alone with Finn―intimately alone―not in a car, not on Teo’s couch hoping he doesn’t suddenly arrive home―and not in the parking lot of his gym, those times I’ve managed to stop by to say hi.

He sits up, taking my hand in his. For all the touching and kissing we were doing, this gesture seems more personal, and endearing, reminding me of why Finn is so different from all the other guys I’ve been with. He does things like this―touches me in a way that shows me he cares. “What’s wrong?” he mouths.

“Sol?” Sofia asks, again, as I shake my head. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Yes, I can―sorry,” I assure her, my body warming as I say what comes next. “If Tía can stay, let her know not to wait up for me.” My eyes meet Finn’s. “I may not be coming home.”

“Oh,” she answers. “Um. Well, I didn’t mean you should―that you have to . . .”

I can hear her growing flustered, rushing to probably warn me against doing what I plan to do. But my attention stays on Finn.

His eyebrows arch with surprise before lowering, his blue eyes sizzling the way they do when his hands wander.

I press the phone against my chest, trying to block the sound. I’m not sure if it works, Sofia might still be able to hear me. But right now, I don’t care. “Is that okay?” I ask. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

He doesn’t answer, but that grin and that dimple are answer enough. As I lift the receiver, I realize Sofia is still speaking. “I’ll be okay,” I assure her, when it’s clear how worried she seems. “Don’t worry. I’m in good hands.”

It’s my last remark that will have her beating her head against the nearest wall. But Sofia has always been like that: scared for others. She knows firsthand how cruel life can be. She doesn’t want me to know that side of life―and its lack of mercy. But while I haven’t experienced what she has, I know that cruelty isn’t what I sense in Finn. When I look at him, all I see is that happiness that’s long escaped me. So at least for tonight, I’m holding tight to that happiness and not letting him go.

He bends to kiss me. The contact is brief, but he draws it out to let me know how much he wants me. I hold his stare, enough to let him know I want him, too.