by Mari Carr
Finn frowned. “I didn’t realize you had a—”
She recognized his confusion and hastened to add, “We broke up a few months ago.”
“Is that what prompted the move back to Baltimore?”
She nodded. “That was a big part of it. My brothers loved Marco, and they were convinced the two of us were going to get married and give them lots of nieces and nephews.”
“What went wrong?”
Layla lifted one shoulder. “My brothers loved him more than I did. Don’t get me wrong. Marco is a great guy. Nice, reliable, handsome, and I did love him.” She paused and corrected herself. “I do love him. As a friend. I just wasn’t in love with him. Our relationship had become really boring, extremely predictable.
“A few months ago, we went out to dinner together at one of our favorite restaurants. Right before dessert, Marco pulled out an engagement ring and proposed. There were flowers on the table, candlelight, soft music playing. Super romantic, right?”
Finn nodded. “Textbook, I’d say.”
“Exactly. It was like he’d Googled ‘romantic proposals’ and checked all the boxes because the true nature of our relationship was more like comfortable friends rather than passionate lovers. I swear I looked at that ring for what felt like forever, letting our future together play out in my mind. I tried to imagine our honeymoon, and all I could see us doing was flying to some tropical paradise where we’d sip fruity drinks and then fall into bed before ten…no sex, no dancing, no swinging from the chandeliers.”
Finn chuckled. “I could see you swinging from light fixtures.”
“I rejected the proposal. And you want to know the crazy part?”
“Sure.”
“I think Marco was relieved. I’m pretty sure he’d only proposed because that felt like the next logical step. Five years is a long time, and like I said, we weren’t bad together. We just weren’t madly in love.”
“How did your brothers take it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like they take everything, the hot-blooded Italians. They flipped out, tried to convince me I’d made a mistake. Started listing all of Marco’s fine attributes.”
“What are they?” Finn asked.
“The typical things that big brothers like in potential husbands for their sister. He had a good job, was reliable, respectful. Rooted for the right sports teams, didn’t drink too much and he’d never stray. Plus, Marco was perfectly happy in Philadelphia, which is where my brothers plan to live out the rest of their lives. Marco always said he was born there and he’d die there, and while Philly is fine, I wasn’t as keen to live three minutes away from twenty-seven family members for the rest of my life.”
Finn took a sip of his beer and lifted one shoulder. “You know, your brothers’ list doesn’t sound that bad.”
“Marco roots for the Eagles.”
“The man is a monster. You made a lucky break.”
Layla grinned briefly, but just thinking of Marco fired up the same frustration she’d felt since moving to Baltimore. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “It’s just…I can’t help but think I’ve missed out on a lot of hot, meaningless sex. I got out from under my brothers’ thumbs after high school only to revoke that freedom by settling down with,” she sighed, “Marco. I feel like there’s this whole slutty side of me that’s been overlooked while I’ve been going through the motions with Marco.”
“Oooookay,” Finn drawled. “Slutty, huh? Is that seriously what you want?”
“For right now? Yes. Absolutely. I want exactly what you described. Casual, no-strings. I’ve been reading a lot of dirty books and watching a shit ton of porn. I have a million kinky things I want to try.”
“Trying to decide if that’s TMI or not enough information. Because when you say kinky—”
She held up her hand to cut him off. “This is a family restaurant.”
Finn laughed, then shook his head. “You know, LJ, there’s a lot to be said for solid, comfortable relationships. I mean, the hookups are fun for about five minutes, but then—”
Layla feigned a horrified face at his time limit, which prompted a laugh and a quick backtrack. “Well, two, three hours, at least. Twelve hours, if we’re talking about me, but I know I’m not most men.”
She giggled. “But then?”
“But then, at the end of the night, I’m back home, alone in my bed.”
“So correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Hopeless Romantic, but it sounds like you want a relationship, want to succumb to the curse.”
Finn fell silent, and she could see she’d hit the nail on the head.
“Yeah. I do.” He paused, then nodded. “I want what Fergus has. A girlfriend, someone to come home to every night, someone to split pizzas and fight over the remote with.”
“I had all that. And believe me, I feel lucky to have gotten out.” She picked up a breadstick, toying with it rather than eating. His confession confirmed what she’d known after just a few minutes of conversation with Finn that first day in the coffee shop. He was a good guy. A nice guy. And she was thrilled they’d been able to pick up their friendship where they’d left off all those years ago in middle school.
But it also depressed her. Because she’d come to Baltimore with solid goals, and ever since running into Finn at the coffee shop, she had started playing out not just-friends’ fantasies with him in her head.
Now, she panicked a little, thinking maybe he’d considered all these nights with her dates, when she’d been careful to keep them in the friends’ zone, not wanting to blur the lines.
He took a sip of his beer. “This sounds like one of those ‘grass is always greener on the other side’ debates.”
“So you want a girlfriend. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said. “I think you should go for it. Not to inflate your already too-large ego, but I’m sure there are a million girls in Baltimore who’d love to date you.”
The heated look he gave her said she was right to start this conversation. Especially when he said, “Maybe, maybe not. Right now, work is kicking my ass, so dating doesn’t really seem like an option.”
She shook her head. “That’s a poor excuse, and I don’t believe it. I mean, you’ve managed to find time to go out with me half a dozen nights in the last couple weeks.”
“True.”
Layla sipped her wine, trying to figure out a way to let Finn down easy…if his thoughts about dating had turned to her. She couldn’t be what he wanted. Not right now anyway. And not for a long time. She’d vowed to give herself one unentangled year. “Maybe we can help each other. I can be your wingman, help you meet women with more than sex on their minds.”
Finn stroked his beard, considering her offer. “That’s a nice offer, but I don’t know how I feel about helping you hook up with strangers. Especially now that I know you’ve got kinky, slutty plans for them. I mean, I like to think of myself as a pretty generous, selfless guy, but I’m not that selfless.”
Layla laughed. “I think we’ve just determined that you and I can’t happen. You want more than I’m ready to give. I moved here to explore my wild side. No more boyfriends for me. Just casual, set-the-sheets-on-fire sex with no day-after phone calls.”
“Yeah? You know what? Fuck it. I’ve changed my mind on wanting a relationship. They’re totally overrated.”
She cast her eyes upward and grinned. “I’m sure they aren’t…with the right person.”
“Your wild side, huh?” Finn clearly liked the sound of that, but before they could discuss it further, the waiter showed up with their food. They’d hit a new Italian place she’d been wanting to try.
They started eating and the conversation returned to more reminiscing, as they talked about fellow classmates they’d run into over the years.
After they paid the bill, they walked to the parking lot together. Layla tried to resist the pull to kiss Finn. She’d been gone long enough that she didn’t really have a lot of friends in Baltimore, and while she’d been busy this
first month and a half, setting up her apartment and working at the store, she had experienced more than her fair share of loneliness.
Not that that was surprising, really. In Philadelphia, she’d lived at home with her papa, her brothers constantly in and out of the house. Her aunt and uncle and their huge brood lived right next door, and they were always over. And if she wasn’t at home, she was at Marco’s apartment with him. So it was a rarity for Layla to ever be alone.
In Baltimore, except for when she was at the coffee shop or with Finn or when her brothers visited, she’d been completely on her own, which she was surprised to discover she didn’t like as much as she’d thought she might. She was a social person, and she genuinely liked people. Eating, watching TV, and going to the grocery store alone kinda sucked, but she figured that was something she just needed to get used to.
One year. No entanglements. That vow had become her mantra.
“Wanna come over to watch the football game with us on Sunday?” Finn asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
His invitation solidified the fact that she’d be pretty freaking stupid to come on to Finn. He and his family were the perfect Baltimore friends for her. Actually, they were currently her only Baltimore friends.
They were fun and active and always inviting her to do cool stuff. She and Sunnie had made plans to go to lunch one day next week, and there was talk of a Halloween party and other annual traditions they all seemed more than happy to include her in. Throwing all that away for a hookup would be a huge mistake. Especially since a hookup was all it could be.
They got into Finn’s car, and he cranked up the radio, the two of them singing along to the nineties station, Layla amused by how many of the words Finn knew.
When they pulled up in front of her apartment, she was surprised when he parked the car. “You don’t have to get out. I’m perfectly capable of walking myself up to the third floor.”
Finn turned the car off, then shifted in his seat to face her. “Let’s talk about that wild side thing again.”
“Finn,” she laughed. “You and I are in different places in our lives at the moment.”
“I’m very good at casual sex.”
Layla’s previous resolve wavered. Her sex life with Marco had been…missionary. At the beginning, they’d had a lot of sex and she’d enjoyed it, vanilla as it was. But then, her sleepovers at his place turned into just that. Nine times out of ten, they’d just sleep together in the same bed, sex the exception rather than the rule. And even then, the sex had gotten as predictable and boring as the relationship.
Finn looked like the kind of guy who knew his way around the bedroom and she was super attracted to him. But there was something in his eyes, something in the way he looked at her, that told her he hadn’t really accepted what she’d said about not wanting a relationship.
“I’m sure you are. With strangers. We’re friends, Finn. What happens after the sex? We just go back to being friends?”
“Sure.”
“Are you sure?” she stressed.
“LJ. I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“What if another guy asks me out and I accept? You’d be alright with me dating other guys? Sleeping with other guys? Because that’s what I want to do.”
Finn didn’t reply, but she thought perhaps her words were beginning to sink in. Then he gave her a wicked grin. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to sleep with anyone after me. I’d ruin you for all other men.”
She laughed as she threw her head back and rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. Well, that solves that problem. I simply can’t risk it, Finn. I have a lot of wild oats to sow, and I can’t take the chance that you’ll ruin my good time.”
“I love hanging out with you, LJ. These past couple weeks have been a lot of fun. And I get what you’re saying. I really do.” He grinned, but there was a part of her that didn’t think he looked particularly happy.
“So…we’re just going to stay friends.”
“Sure. Friends.”
Layla noticed his easy smile had faded and she hated it. “So, we’re cool?” she asked, feeling the need for reassurance.
He nodded. “We’re cool.”
Layla leaned toward him, giving him a hug. Part of her was tempted to turn her head and add a kiss to the embrace, despite what she’d just said. Because she’d had some rather lustful fantasies of him lately. Her current favorite was the two of them re-envisioning childhood games they used to play. Playing doctor and cops and robbers with a kinky twist.
She pushed herself away and hoped Finn couldn’t see the blush she felt heating her cheeks. “Call me tomorrow?”
He winked. “Absolutely, friend.”
They said goodbye and Layla climbed the stairs to her apartment. But later, in bed, she closed her eyes and gave in to the fantasies, imagining Finn tying her to the bed, using her vibrator on her, teasing her, keeping her right on the edge of an orgasm for hours, before allowing her to come.
As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but suspect Finn might be right. He was starting to ruin her for other men.
And he hadn’t touched her anywhere but in her fantasies.
Chapter Three
A few days later, Finn sat at the bar at Pat’s Pub alone, wondering what to do about Layla and her wild side. He hadn’t seen her since the night she’d expressed her desire to explore her wild side. One of her employees had quit, and she’d had to pick up the extra shifts while trying to hire and train someone new.
If he’d been working at the office, he would have stopped by the shop to see her, but he and Fergus had been onsite, tightening down security for a local concert his cousin-in-law Hunter Maxwell was doing over the weekend.
“Hello, my lad.”
Finn grinned as Pop Pop claimed the stool next to him. “I didn’t know you were here,” he said.
Pop Pop nodded when Padraig walked over with a frosty mug and pointed to the Guinness tap. “That would be wonderful, Paddy,” he said, before turning back to Finn. “I was having dinner on Sunday’s Side with Caitlyn and Lucas. Tonight’s special was Riley’s shepherd’s pie. You know that’s my favorite.” Pop Pop patted his stomach. “Though perhaps I shouldn’t indulge in it as often as I do.”
His grandfather was in good shape for his age. Actually, Finn thought it looked like he’d lost a bit of weight in the past year or so, not that he’d ever mention that to Pop Pop, or anyone else for that matter. Pop Pop was over ninety, and Finn preferred to think of his beloved grandfather as immortal.
“You’re the best-looking guy in here,” Finn said, glancing over to the end of the bar where Emmy, a romance writer, had set up camp the past month or two to write her latest book. “Isn’t that right, Emmy?”
She glanced up and grinned. “Not even a contest, Mr. Collins. You are a serious heartthrob.”
Pop Pop was clearly pleased by the compliment. “Emmy, dear. I’ve told you countless times to call me Pat. And I’m not sure how you can write those stories of yours while listening to everything everyone around you is saying.”
Emmy laughed and winked. “What can I say? Eavesdropping is my one true talent.”
Padraig set the Guinness in front of Pop Pop, joining the conversation. “Eavesdropping? Not writing?”
“I have to work at the writing,” Emmy said. “The eavesdropping comes naturally.”
“Woman after my own heart,” Pop Pop, the nosiest man alive, joked.
Padraig laughed, then went to take the orders of a couple who’d just entered the pub, while Emmy started typing fast and furious again.
Emmy had confided in Finn once that she’d been suffering from writer’s block after her last release, and she’d stopped by the pub to drown her sorrows. Apparently after just one hour in the pub, watching the patrons and listening to their stories, she’d been so inspired, she’d gone home and written two full chapters.
After that, she’d started bringing her laptop every day, optin
g to write in the pub.
Padraig had gone so far as to put a permanent “reserved” sign at her seat at the end of the bar. The only other person bestowed with that honor was Pop Pop, though his stool was in the center of the counter, right in the thick of the action, as his grandfather liked to say.
“Where’s Miguel these days?” Pop Pop asked. “Don’t think I’ve seen him around much the past few weeks.”
“He’s working extra hours at the precinct. Apparently, there’s been a rash of robberies at some local businesses and Dad assigned the case to him.”
“Good for him. I know he’s trying for that promotion.”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. He hopes cracking this case will give him a leg up.” Finn’s cell phone rang, and he showed Pop Pop the screen. “Speak of the devil. You mind if I answer this, Pop Pop?”
“Of course not.”
“Hey, Miguel,” Finn said, answering the phone. “What’s up?”
“Did you call me, man?”
“Yeah. I’m at the pub. Wanted to invite you to join me. Can you stop by for a beer? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Damn. Wish I could, but I’m still at the precinct. Had another robbery today, and I’m buried in paperwork. Rain check?”
“Sure.”
“I thought you’d be getting ready for Hunter’s show tomorrow.”
Finn sighed wearily. “Everything is done. Thought I’d have a quick beer and then go to bed early. Tomorrow is looking like an eighteen-hour day.”
“Ouch. So…uh…LJ not available?”
“Nope. Working late.”
“Ahh. So was I your first or second choice to share a beer with?”
“Be serious. You were my twelfth choice, dude,” Finn said, laughing.
This wasn’t the first time Miguel had made a joke about LJ replacing him in the best friend role. It felt like one of those jokes that was steeped in honesty. But Finn couldn’t make himself address it because doing so would open the door to another conversation Finn wasn’t ready to have. Not even with himself.
