Isn’t it?
My inner voice sounded unconvincing even to myself, and I couldn’t quell the disappointment that was beginning to bloom in my chest like a cancer – a sharp pain radiating quickly from my heart out through my limbs.
I was an idiot.
Sex with Finn had been so different for me– more intimate and so far removed from what I’d experienced in the past – that I’d simply assumed he’d felt it too. Apparently he hadn’t. Maybe last night had been nothing to him; maybeI’dbeen nothing to him. No different from any other girl he’d –how had Lexi termed it so eloquently?– hit-and-quit.
Thisis fine. This is better, in fact. Now, things can go back to normal and I’ll forget all about the emotional, tear-ridden months I’ve had with Finn in my life. I’ll go back to havingfun– who wants to cry all the time, anyway? He’s just a boy, nothing special. It isn’t like he took my virginity, for god’s sake. This will be no different from any of my other hookups. Snap out of it, Brooklyn.
They were paltry consolations, but they were all I had left. I clung to them desperately, my lifeline in a storm – unwilling to be dragged out into the endless ocean of my disappointed hopes. Breathing deeply into the pillow I clutched tightly to my chest, tears immediately prickled my eyes as Finn’s scent washed over me. I wondered how many other stupid girls’ empty pillows had smelled like the warm breeze of an early fall day, and how long they’d waited to wash them after he’d left. A day? A week?
I groanedat the ridiculous thought. I was being such agirl– what the hell was happening to me?
Don’t get me wrong, I was fully aware how hypocritical it was for me to feel this way. After all, hadn’t I pulled this exact maneuver on countless one-night-stands of my own? I was the expert at it; so good, I could probably teach classes at the university–How to Escape Your Awkward Morning-After: Avoiding the Coyote-Ugly and Sneaking Out the Window 101.I had no right to expect anything different from Finn; in fact, I was naïve for thinking it could have ever meant something more to him than just sex. He was Finn Chambers, after all.
Two months ago, I would’ve balked at the idea of sex meaning anything other than the mind-cleansing fulfillment only an orgasm can deliver. Now, here I was, brought down by the idea that sexhadn’tbeen meaningful – that I’d been nailed-and-bailed on.
Damn, karma really is asnaggletoothed, hairy bitch.
I took another deep breath, through my mouth this time, and decided to stop being a whiney, pathetic, doe-eyed little girl. I had things to do, like finish painting my room.
When memories of painting with he-who-must-not-be-namedbegan to play through my mind in vivid high-definition color, I did my best to shove them way down into my triply-reinforced mental box labeledNarcissistic Assholes.He finally fit in the box, I realized with a despondent, detached sort of acceptance – a pyrrhic victory if there ever was one.
Flipping over onto my back, I startled when I caught sight of the deep blue ceiling above me. When I’d finally fallen asleep, utterly wiped out after Finn and I had finishedgetting acquaintedfor the third time, the ceiling was an unadulterated shade of midnight. Now, it was littered with a galaxy of white stars, so detailed and painstakingly crafted that they must have taken several hours to hand paint.
Finn.
As if thinking his name had conjured him, my bedroom door swung open and Finn strolled in, looking annoyingly bright-eyed and cheerful, clothed once-again in his paint-spattered coveralls.Heclearly hadn’t just undergone a slightly embarrassing, utterly dismaying spiral into the land of self-doubt and rejection.
Crap.
Proppedup on my elbows, a sheet covering my chest, I warily watched him enter, unsure what to expect.
“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” he said, smiling crookedly at me and coming to a stop at the end of my bed.
He was still here. He hadn’t left at all.
My heart stuttered in my chest, then started to race at what felt like twice its normal rate.The walls of theNarcissistic Assholebox started to rattle, then buckle violently, the wood straining under the pressure until the top exploded off altogether and FinnfreakingChambers escaped back into the forefront of my mind. I mentally acknowledged that he’d never fit in that damn box again – not that he’d ever really belonged there in the first place.
I should’ve been angry that he’d caused my minor –okay, major– freak out, but I was overwhelmed by equal parts giddiness that he was still here and paralyzing terror at the undeniable attachment I felt for him. Anger had to take the back burner, for the moment – I could only handle one mental breakdown at a time, pre-caffeine fix.
Covering up my extreme internal distress, I aimed for nonchalant indifference – rolling my eyes at him and flopping backwards onto my pillow, my gaze alternated between the painted universe of stars and the mind-fuck of a man before me. He looked completely at ease and self-assured, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be waking up in my apartment and doing god knows what while I was still asleep.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked somewhatgrumpily. I was unprepared for this conversation, for this day, without first having my coffee. My brain didn’t even begin to function normally until after cup number two. In fact, that debilitating pain that had lanced through my chest when I’d thought Finn had left me? Maybe it had just been caffeine deprivation.
One could only hope.
“A few hours,” he said, shrugging andwalking closer to me. Leaning over the bed, careful not to get any paint on my comforter, he kissed me. Though our mouths were our only point of contact, it wasn’t the gentle good morning peck I’d anticipated. Finn’s kiss was consuming, near-painful in its irrefutable desire – a reminder of what last night had been, and a promise of more nights to come.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, pulling away.
I tried to slow my breathing so I didn’t sound like an asthmatic who’d just run a half-marathon when I answered him. I cleared my throat and pulled a deep breath into my lungs, praying I wasn’t as transparent as I felt. For fuck’s sake, I was nearly panting.
“Like the dead, apparently,” I said, glancing up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even hear you do all this.”
“I was quiet. Stealthy. Some might even say ninja-like,” he grinned down at me, his cobalt eyes warm on mine.
“Who? Who might say that?”I asked, raising one eyebrow.