Like Gravity(74)

Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t been.

Now, they explained, a forensic team would comb the crime scene looking for any kind of evidence that could help them discover his identity: blood, fabric from his clothing, even finger and footprints left behind on the cobblestones. I might have to go down to the station at some point to answer more questions, but for now I was free to go.

Before I could even make a move to hop off the stretcher, Finn was once again standing in front of me. He whipped his t-shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested in the crisp autumn night air.

“Arms up,” he ordered softly.

“But you’ll get cold—” I began to protest, but stopped when I saw the look on his face. Resistance was definitely futile, and truthfully I was grateful that I wouldn’t have to walk to the parking lot while exposed and indecent, with my tattered dress on display for the crowd. Obediently, I lifted my hands toward the sky and allowed him to slip the faded grey shirt over my head and arms.

Ignoring my protests, Finn swept me up into his arms and insisted on carrying me to his truck. As soon as we moved out of the protective shield of police and paramedic vehicles, we were surrounded by curious onlookers. Finn’s glare kept them at a distance and, for the most part, they gave us wide berth as we made our way to the parking lot where Finn had left his truck.

There was no keeping Lexi away, though.

She didn’t speak as she trailed us through the crowd, somehow keeping pace with Finn’s quick strides. I could see traces of tears on her face, her normally light blue eyes watery and rimmed with red. She was quiet, even when our eyes locked, but I could see the apology in her gaze.

I winked at her, to let her know that I was okay and that I didn’t blame her. If anything, I was grateful that Lexi hadn’t been in that alley with me; if she’d been hurt, I would have been devastated.

It was eerie, though – the strong sense of déjà vu that filled me as Finn cradled me in his arms, with a remorseful Lexi hovering by his elbow. Just like the first day we’d met, before I knew what a big part of my life he would become. He was just some random guy then – a jerky prick who’d insulted and angered me beyond measure.

And now I was in love with him. Life was funny that way.

The ride to Finn’s apartment was a blur. Finn was silent, lost in his own thoughts, and I kept my forehead propped against the cool glass of the passenger window, allowing my mind to blank as I watched the hazy orbs of the streetlights speed by. In seemingly no time, we’d pulled into the driveway of a modest two-story condo.

To say that this was not what I’d been expecting of Finn’s place was almost certainly the biggest understatement of the century. Semi-reformed slut that I was, I’d been in the houses, apartments, and bedrooms of more guys than I ever wanted to count. I’d been primed for the worst – beer cans littering the front lawns, overgrown hedges, chipped paint, and a stoop that was falling apart.

What I was not expecting was a beautifully tended front lawn, pristine whitewashed shingles, and a front porch complete with several flowerboxes – each of them overflowing with cheerful, multicolored blossoms.

This was Finn’s house? I actually had to pinch myself because I was nearly positive that I’d stepped into a parallel universe. Or maybe I’d hit my head so hard on those cobblestones that I was actually in the hospital experiencing some kind of weird, coma-induced hallucination.

Whatever it was, though, was no match for the shock I felt stepping inside the condo itself. Absent were the typical posters of bikini-clad girls on motorcycles and sports cars. There were no stray beer cups on the counter, nor was there a mountain of empty pizza boxes piled four feet high next to the trashcan.

“So, this is my place,” Finn explained nonchalantly, as if it were totally unsurprising that he lived in a beautiful condo with marble countertops, a kitchen island, and a refrigerator so large I could probably fit my entire body in the freezer compartment.

I continued to spin in slow circles, taking in his uncluttered, minimalist space. The couch was low-slung, elegantly crafted in black leather. Both the coffee table and entertainment system – which housed an unfathomably large flat-screen television and numerous game consoles – were constructed of a sleek, dark wood. The place screamed effortless wealth. Hell, it even smelled like cultured masculinity.

Yep, I’m definitely lying in a coma somewhere.

“Bee?” Finn’s voice sounded uncharacteristically nervous. “What do you think?”

“You have coasters.”

“So?” Finn asked, a baffled look crossing his face.

“Coasters, Finn.”

“I don’t understand,” Finn muttered, glancing from me to the coasters with a wary look in his eyes.

“You also have copper sink faucets,” I pointed out.

“I guess?” Finn shrugged, looking at the sink like he’d never even noticed it before.

“You’re rich,” I said accusingly.

“And that’s a problem because…?” Finn asked. His eyebrows were raised so high on his forehead they’d nearly disappeared beneath his messy hair.

Abruptly, I collapsed onto his leather couch. It was obscenely comfortable. Of course it is, I thought bitterly. It probably cost more than my rent.

“Bee, you’ve got this scary look in your eyes right now,” Finn said, kneeling in front of me so he could look into my eyes. “What is this about? Why does it matter that I have money?”