Falling for Finn (11 page)

Anna blinked. “The rest of the week? But—”

“It wasn’t a request. We’ve got a big case coming up next week, and I want you fresh and ready and able to deal. Okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay. She didn’t need time off. She could handle it.

Oh yeah, like you’ve been “handling” the last six months?

She ignored the snide thought, wanting to protest. Not that there was any point. Once Adrian made up his mind, he never changed it.

Anna’s jaw ached with tension. “Okay.”

When he’d gone, she didn’t make a move right away, continuing to sit there while she mindlessly gathered up the files she’d brought to the meeting.

This was crazy. She’d thought the experience with Finn would make things better.
 
But it hadn't. All it had done was make it worse. So much worse.
 

She shut her eyes tightly but couldn’t shake the memory of the look on his face as she’d told him that sleeping with him had been a mistake. There had been pain stark in his eyes.

She’d hurt him. The one person who’d been there for her—the only person who’d been there for her—her whole life, and she’d hurt him.

Regret curled through her heart.

She should never have left like that. But the whole situation had been so overwhelming she couldn’t deal with it. After witnessing the violence of her parents’ marriage, extreme emotion had always made her uncomfortable. And in Finn's apartment there had been nothing but extremities. Fear. Desire. Intense, screaming pleasure. It had been too much for her. Way, way too much. Totally outside of her expectations and her experience.

He’d stood there tall and angry and demanding. Hurting. And she’d known it was her fault. All her fault. Her carefully thought-out experiment, her way of confronting her fear and moving on with her life, had turned on her.

What a complete and utter idiot.

Her mobile, on the table beside her, buzzed, and she checked it, her heart suddenly beating wildly. But it was only a reminder from her calendar. Nothing more.

Not Finn.

She bit her lip hard. He hadn’t contacted her all week. Not a text, not an email, not a call. But then, why would he? She’d been the one who’d come to him for help, and then she’d been the one to throw that help back in his face because she hadn’t been able to deal with it.

Her fault. Which made it her job to fix the problem.

So fix it already.

Fear threaded through her. That was the real issue, wasn’t it? Because she had no idea how to. She’d thought that giving him the fantasy would be enough. And yet the instant she’d looked into his eyes as she’d tried to leave, she’d realized it wasn’t. Not for him. His whole reaction had told her he wanted more, though how much more she didn’t really understand.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. God, what a mess.

But really, avoiding the problem wouldn’t make it go away, would it? She’d already tried that with the attack. Look how that had turned out.

She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t.

Resolutely Anna picked up her phone and dialed. It rang. And rang. Then clicked to voicemail. Swallowing the strange mix of disappointment and relief, Anna paused as the prompt came to leave a message. No, she wasn’t a coward. Finn deserved more from her than that.

“Hey Finn, it’s me. Call me when you get a chance, okay?”

Finn looked down at the caller ID. Anna. He didn’t answer it, let it ring.

Anna who’d walked out on him. Anna who hadn’t even had the guts to call him since.

I need some space.

Around him the thunder of skateboard wheels on wood echoed off the office buildings, the thwack of the board landing after a jump. People cheered, the crowd gathered around the temporary skateboard ramp that had been built on the closed-off downtown street.

His show,
Wild Life,
was doing a piece on extreme sports in Auckland, covering a skateboarding exhibition, and he’d already wrapped a couple of interviews with some of the visiting US professionals here for the exhibition. Joanna Lee, a big name in the very small list of professional female skaters, was still hanging around waiting for him. She’d made her interest in him known in no uncertain terms, and he’d let himself be talked into a drink once filming had finished.

He looked over to where she stood near the barriers erected around the ramp, talking to Chris, his cameraman. Tall and slim, blonde hair down her back, hot. Man, a week ago there would have been no hesitation, none of this ambivalence he currently felt. He would have been into a drink and more if she’d wanted. And she did want. That much was obvious.

But now…

His phone beeped insistently, announcing a voicemail message. Anna again.

Finn ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out why the hell he hadn’t answered it. Being angry that she hadn’t called him was childish. Ignoring the call was childish. And he didn’t normally act childish or petulant. So what was he doing?

Yeah, he’d been pissed she’d walked out on him. Had felt…shit, might as well admit it…hurt. But really, what had he expected? She’d been right. She wasn’t his girlfriend. The usual rules didn’t apply. And if he’d found the whole experience somewhat more intense than he’d anticipated, then it was his problem, not Anna’s.

In fact, he’d realized the morning after she left that he had two choices: either he made it a big deal, or he let it go. It wasn’t much of a choice. She’d made it clear which way she wanted it to go, and he just knew that if he pushed, he risked alienating her. He couldn’t face that. The past six months of her not being around had been tough, and it wasn’t worth jeopardizing their friendship for the sake of some hot sex.

Jo laughed at something Chris had said, her gaze meeting Finn’s. She raised an eyebrow in a “so are we going or what?” look. Finn lifted a hand, spreading his fingers to indicate he’d be five minutes. Then he hit the button for his voicemail to listen to Anna’s message. She sounded quiet, subdued, her “call me” message uncertain. But even so, the mere timbre of her voice made him catch his breath.

No. Not going there.

Growling to himself, he jabbed at the phone.

“Finn?” Anna answered on the second ring, sounding out of breath.

His whole body went tight, the memory of her saying his name in a wholly different kind of context flooding through him. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the feeling. “Yeah, sorry, been filming this morning. You wanted me to call you?”

“Uh, yeah.” A small pause. “I really need to talk to you.”

Of course, he knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. And perhaps it was time he got over himself and made the first move. He scrubbed a hand over his face, turning away from the crowds around the ramp, going around the corner of a building where the noise wasn’t quite so loud. “I know. Anna, look, I owe you an apology.”

“What?” She sounded taken aback.

“Yeah, I was a prick last week. I’m sorry. I’m not used to women cutting and running after sex like that and I kind of… “ He stopped. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“Oh.” A surprised silence. “Well…uh…” Another silence. Then she gave a soft laugh. “Crap, Finn, now I don’t know what to say.”

He leaned against the wall. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Yeah, I do. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I’m sorry, I just needed…”

“Some space to handle it. I get that. It’s okay, Anna, it really is.”

She let out a sigh and it sounded like relief. “Thanks, Finn. I mean, really, thanks. I should have called you sooner, I know, but this has been stressing me out.”

As if she needed that on her plate at the moment. “Well, don’t. We’re good. I mean that.”

“Oh my God, I was so hoping you’d say that.” Anna gave another relieved-sounding laugh. “Perhaps we should just draw a line under the whole episode. Pretend it never happened.”

His fingers gripped the phone tight, ignoring the dull ache that had taken up residence inside his chest. She wanted to dismiss it? All that passion. All that heat. All that rightness. He couldn’t help himself. “You really want to do that?”

“Yes, of course I do.” No hesitation. “Finn, I don’t want anything to get in the way of our friendship. Especially some ill-advised sex.”

Ill-advised sex. This got better and better.

He turned around, resting his back against the wall of the building, fighting the anger coiling inside him. Anger he shouldn’t feel. “No problem, Green Eyes.” Pleased with how neutral his voice sounded. “Consider it forgotten.”

“Phew! I think you just made my day, Mr. Shaw.” She sounded so happy.

And he felt like shit. Stupid. Pathetic. Loser.

“Glad to hear it,” he said blankly. “Well, I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you later.”

But something in his voice must have given him away, because she said, “Finn? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s all good.”

“You don’t sound—”

“Hey, I really have to go. Sorry, Anna. I’ve got a meeting. We’ll talk later.” Finn disconnected the call, then stood there a minute, leaning against the wall, staring at the traffic in the street.

Crazy. He had to get himself together. She was right. Putting it behind them was the only way. Both for her and all the crap she was dealing with right now. And definitely he didn’t want to make it harder for her. If only he could just stop obsessing about how good it had been. How right she’d felt in his arms.

“Hey, Finn.”

He turned to see Jo peering around the side of the building.

“You still want to go for a drink?” She gave him a half smile that had more than a little suggestion in it. “’Cause, you know, I’m still into it.”

Well, why not? It wasn’t like he had anything better to do with anyone else, right?

Finn pushed himself away from the wall, grinning at her. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

Jo proved to be good company. She was funny, sexy, everything he normally liked in a woman. Plus she not only skated but was into snowboarding too. What was there not to like?

But as the day went on, Finn couldn’t shake the restlessness that ran through his veins. The feeling he shouldn’t be here. He tried to ignore it, tried to enjoy being with someone who was his ideal woman in many respects, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to concentrate.

“Hey,” Jo said as they exited the bar later that afternoon, “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind going somewhere quieter.” She wound an arm around his waist, leaning into him, her other hand lingering on his thigh. “What do you think?”

The whole afternoon she’d made her interest known, and he hadn’t discouraged her. Why would he? Any man with half a brain would be into her.

Finn looked down into her brown eyes. Yeah, he could take her back to his place, and they’d have sex. And it would probably be pretty good sex too. There would be fun and a few laughs and then they’d say goodbye.

Easy. Uncomplicated.

And it wasn’t what he wanted.

The realization shocked him. Because for most of his adult life, that had been
exactly
what he’d wanted. Fun and easy sex. No strings. No ties. So what was holding him back now? Because the more he thought about taking Jo home, the more he didn’t want to do it.

Shit, what the hell was going on with him?

She frowned, clearly aware of his hesitation. The hand on his thigh slid up his body to curl around his neck. “What’s up? I thought you were into this?”

Yeah, so had he.

He looked down into her face and then, briefly, bent to kiss her.

Nothing. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. No desire, no anticipation. No heat.

Finn…don’t stop…

Anna’s voice in his head. Breathless. Desperate. Oh God, why the bloody hell was he thinking of her now? Hadn’t he decided she was right? That they had to pretend nothing had happened between them?

He lifted his head, trying to ignore the thoughts. Dismiss the memories of heat and intensity and smooth, slick skin beneath his hands.

“What’s the problem, Finn?”

No, he couldn’t do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to her to pretend. “Jo, I’m sorry. I’m not up for this after all.”

Her frown deepened, genuine hurt crossing her face. She released him, stepped away. “You seemed pretty into it ten minutes ago. What changed?”

“Nothing. It’s not you—”

“Oh great, the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. Gee, Finn, real smooth.”

Shit, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. “Jo, look, I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous, you’re great company and I really enjoyed this afternoon. I thought I was into it but…”

She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “But what?”

“There’s someone else.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out all the same.

“Someone else? Please don’t tell me you have a girlfriend, ’cause that’s just-”

“No. No girlfriend. Just…someone.” Why had he said that? It wasn’t true, was it?

Jo let out a breath, studying his face. The hurt look had faded. “Ah. Like that, is it? I know how that goes.”