by Gina Azzi
“I mean it. If you need anything at all, text me.” He repeats.
“Sorry Finn, Melanie is flagging me down for a drink. I’ll see you in a bit?” I end the exchange between us before I stand here and monopolize Finn, showing just how much I crave his attention. No, it’s better to wrap things up now.
“Oh, yeah. Sure, see you.” Surprise colors Finn’s tone but he covers it by picking his beer up from the corner of the table and taking a long swig. Within moments, he’s pulled into another conversation and I’m jostled to the bar by Melanie and Cameron.
Breathing out the nerves that naturally occur around Finn, I order a beer and accept the shot glass the Cameron presses into my hand. The three of us cheers and toss back shots of vodka but over Melanie’s head, my eyes latch onto Finn’s once more.
Deep, blue pools of curiosity edged with a hunger that thrills me. I hold his stare, note the flare of his nostrils, the tightening of his jaw. Then, he blinks and I turn my head and the moment between us is drowned out by the noise of the pub.
6
Finn
Welcome drinks with the first-years is an annual occurrence, a casual, informal gathering at a pub. It’s a chance for colleagues to catch up after the holidays and a time for staff to meet the newest hires. I’ve gone every year without thinking twice but this year, it’s different.
Instead of popping by for a pint and excusing myself early to head back to the office, or meet some friends at a different bar, I find myself sticking around. Slowly, staff from the office leave to head home for dinner or pick their kids up from daycare and yet, I’m still here, nursing my pint and…waiting.
For what I’m not sure but I can’t just leave knowing that Daisy is here. Drinking and joking and laughing with her new friends. She’s settling into her life, adjusting to the transition, and I’m happy for her. And yet, I want to make sure that she gets home safely, that she doesn’t need me for… what?
“Finn? You want to grab a bite?” Cameron asks me, jostling my shoulder as he gestures toward the table. Sitting there, Melanie and Daisy are scanning a menu. George from IT takes a seat next to Melanie while another first-year, Dennis, points something out to Daisy.
Here’s the part where I normally decline the invitation, excuse myself from getting tangled up in office socializing. And yet, staring at Daisy’s profile, the slender column of her neck, the cascade of curls around her shoulders, something else comes out of my mouth. “Sure, mate. I could eat.”
Sliding into a chair near Daisy, I pick up a menu and scan the usual pub fare like I have all the time in the world. Like I don’t have work piling up on my desk. Like I didn’t tell Roger I’d meet him at the rugby pitch.
Instead, I lean closer to Daisy and catch the scent of vanilla from her shampoo. “You drink IPAs, Dais?” I tilt my chin toward the beer near her elbow.
She lifts her glass and shakes it at me. “I grew up with three older brothers. I like all beer.”
“They didn’t buy the colorful wine coolers and frozen daiquiris?” I joke, taking another pull of my pint.
“I think Denver would rather eat his own toenails than be caught dead drinking a wine cooler.”
“I bet you’re right.” I shift forward in my chair, raising my glass to her. Around me, pockets of conversation occur but I only hear her voice. “To Anderson’s newest hire. Congrats, Dais. We’re glad you’re here.”
She blushes at my words, ducking her head as I clink my pint glass against hers, my attention on her face.
Taking a long sip of her beer, her eyes meet mine over the rim of her glass and I note how the speckles of green expand, edging out the brown, with each passing minute. She’s relaxed, at ease, having a good time. And I’m here, acting like I have some claim on her, like she needs me to watch out for her. I take another gulp of my beer and tear my eyes away. She’s seven years younger than you. She’s out with her friends. She’s having fun. Stop creeping.
The thoughts run through my head on a loop and still, I stay seated.
“What’s good here?” Daisy clears her throat, and I force my eyes to scan the front page of the menu. Again. Yes, this is me attempting to distract myself from being attracted to Sierra’s best friend, to my new colleague, to a girl I shouldn’t be feeling anything toward.
No, it’s not working. At all.
“Oh, anything really. The burgers are decent. And the haggis isn’t bad, if you’re brave enough to try it,” I answer, looking up again and fighting back a smirk.
Daisy bites her bottom lip and I swallow the groan that travels up my throat. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s haggis?”
“Just sheep’s pluck.”
“Which is?”
“You know.” I lean even closer, lowering my voice while my mind screams at me to stop flirting. “The liver, lungs, and heart.”
I watch her expression curiously, waiting for her to flinch in disgust or laugh at my suggestion.
“It’s a national dish,” I continue, smothering a laugh.
“I’d love to try it,” she decides, slapping the front of her menu for emphasis, a wide grin crossing her face. “Slainte!” She waggles her eyebrows, picking up her Deuchars IPA, and taking a large gulp.
I drop my head back in surprise, always on my toes where Daisy is concerned. When I’m with her, I can’t stop laughing or smiling. I want to keep conversations between us going, to learn more about her. And I definitely want to get her underneath me, lay her out across my bed, and lose myself in her.
The server comes by and Daisy orders haggis with a boldness that causes the corners of my mouth to tick up. Melanie tells her she’s crazy and Cameron and George laugh. I sip my beer slowly, as Dennis tries to draw Daisy into conversation.
Tilting my head, I study their exchange. Dennis resting his arm along the back of Daisy’s chair, angling his body toward her, his eyes zeroed in on her lips as she speaks. He likes her.
An irrational surge of jealousy spikes through my bloodstream at his focused attention on Daisy. Turning away, I take a deep breath to calm the emotions I have no right feeling. My jealousy morphs into shame as I watch Daisy’s eyes light up, her smile widen. Isn’t it better this way? He’s closer to her age, a more appropriate fit for her. He’s someone she could date for real and build an actual relationship with.
“Another pint?” The server interrupts my thoughts and I nod, my head all over the place.
I listen to the conversations unfolding around me as I watch Daisy bite into her haggis and proclaim that it’s delicious. Dennis moves closer into her space, drawing her attention to him and I bite down hard, forcing myself to drink my beer.
Go home, Finn.
I sigh, rubbing the space between my eyebrows. Checking my phone, I read a text from Roger.
Roger: Still on for rugby?
Sighing heavily, I glance up as Daisy’s voice rings out, knowing as much as I should leave, I won’t.
Me: Sorry, mate. Can’t make it.
The pub scene is winding down when Daisy and her friends flag our server for the check. I’ve already settled the bill and when the server slips me my card, Cameron tosses me a thankful smile. As the group decides how to split up cabs, I grind my teeth together before I offer Daisy a ride.
Is it appropriate?
Of course it is, you’re practically family.
That’s not true.
What will the others think?
That you’re perving on a younger colleague and trying to get in her pants after she’s been drinking?
But what if she goes home with Dennis and he makes a move?
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I hate myself for being so indecisive. Cameron and Melanie wave good-bye to the group as they decide to meet up with mutual friends for one more drink. “Are you coming?” Melanie asks Dennis and Daisy as George waves good-bye and jumps in an Uber.
Dennis agrees immediately, holding out a hand to Daisy. I watch her closely for signs of what she really wants to do. After a mom
ent of hesitation, during which her eyes flicker to mine, I’ve finally made up my own damn mind.
“I can give you a lift if you’re tired, Dais.” I offer easily, checking my phone to avoid seeming too eager about this option.
Dennis steps closer to her, opening his mouth to protest when Daisy puts me out of my misery.
“That’d be great, Finn. Thanks. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She waves good-bye to the group and falls in step beside me as I navigate her toward the parking garage where I left my car.
Having not even consumed two pints in four hours, I’m fine to drive. On the other hand, Daisy is a bit tipsy, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she trips over an uneven crack in the sidewalk.
Reaching out automatically, I steady her and she laughs louder, her eyes dancing as she glances up at me. “Thanks.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. I need to let go of her shoulder but instead of doing that, I slide my hand down the length of her sleeve and lace my fingers with hers. Daisy inhales sharply and ducks her head, her hair falling forward like a curtain, but she squeezes my fingers in hers and I relax, letting our joined hands sway between us as I lead her toward my car.
She’s not for you, Finn.
“Are you excited for Sierra’s wedding next month?” Daisy asks, re-directing the torrent of thoughts that are about to assuage me. A list of reasons why I shouldn’t kiss her when it’s the only thing I’m able to think about in this moment.
“Aye. It’s killing Aunt Jenni that she’s not more involved with the wedding planning but I’m sure everything will be beautiful.”
“Oh, totally. Sierra has impeccable taste. I’m more concerned for Den if there’s a lot of lace and over-the-top bling.”
I snort, picturing Sierra’s fiancé and Daisy’s brother, Denver. The guy is built like the hulk, with dark, brooding eyes and a severe expression. He’s the last guy I would have pictured Sierra falling for and yet, they’re happy together. But isn’t it always like that at the beginning? When everything is fresh and exciting? It’s not until months or even years later that the cracks begin to show.
Daisy squeezes my fingers again and grins up at me, her expression open, her eyes trusting. Sometimes, she’s too damn sweet and innocent. Alluring without realizing it. Tempting without knowing it.
“You seem so serious today.” She frowns playfully, peering into my face.
“Just tired, I guess.”
“Or you need to get out more.”
“Really? We just spent four hours at a pub.”
“Yeah, but you barely said anything. You’re totally lost in your own thoughts. You okay?” she asks as I unlock the car door for her and wait for her to climb into the passenger seat.
Touched by her concern, I swallow thickly. Why does she have to care? Why can’t she be one of the random, easy girls I pick up at a pub? One who doesn’t know if I’m quiet or loud or anything about me at all?
“It’s been a busy week. I’ve been distracted.” I admit, without giving too much away. Like she’s the cause of my current distraction. Especially in sheer tights and a pencil skirt that nips and flares in all the right places.
I close the door and walk around the back of the car, mentally listing all the reasons why I can’t kiss her. She’s too young for you. She’s Sierra’s best friend. You work together.
Folding my frame behind the steering wheel, I start the car and breathe a sigh of relief when a popular song blares out of the speakers and Daisy begins to hum along, singing the lyrics under her breath.
It doesn’t take long to park in front of her flat. Gazing up at the dark windows, I grip the steering wheel. “Let me walk you up.” I open the car door and step out into the icy blast. By the time I round the car, Daisy is waiting for me on the sidewalk, a smirk on her face.
“Tonight was fun. Does the office do that a lot?”
“Happy hour?” I guide her to the front door, keeping my fingers pressed into the small of her back in case she slips on some ice.
Daisy nods, glancing at me over her shoulder, her colorful eyes bright.
“Every few months. Anderson has a pretty great working environment, so a lot of the staff regularly get together. But we do office drinks or dinners at least once a quarter.”
“That’s nice. I like working there already.” She admits, unlocking the door and pushing into the foyer.
I follow her up the stairs, looking around for a light switch. Frowning at how dark it is, I make a mental note to call Daisy’s landlord and ask about hallway lighting. It isn’t safe for the place to be so dark when she arrives home, especially at night.
She unlocks the door to her flat and looks at me over her shoulder again. “You coming in?” She holds the door open casually, like any friend would to another friend.
I hesitate for a brief moment before damning myself and crossing the threshold. She flips on the light switch and her apartment is bathed in a warm glow. Immediately, I note the touches she added, a few framed photographs, a throw blanket on the couch. A coffee mug sits on the island next to an open notebook. Her place is clean and tidy but with enough personal additions to be homey and comfortable. Welcoming.
“Want something to drink?” she offers, walking to the refrigerator and pulling out two bottles of water. She tosses one to me. Casual. Easy.
We’re friends.
“Thanks.” I hold the bottle up, uncapping it and taking a long swig. The water is cool trickling down my throat, clearing my head.
Daisy grins at me, walking closer. She’s shed her coat and scarf and I’m once again tempted by her long legs, her tight skirt, a peak of cleavage behind the delicate buttons of her blouse. Her eyes are clear, her mouth a pop of color against her smooth skin.
“Thanks again for the ride, Finn.” She says the words sweetly and yet, I hear the innuendo behind them. Or maybe I just want to?
Her gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips and I read the intention swirling in her irises. I shuffle forward and clear my throat. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Adding the personal touches.” Glancing at the console table near the front door, I pick up a framed photo of Daisy and Sierra taken at their ASU graduation.
“It feels homier. More like my space.”
“Aye. Must be tough to make a life somewhere without introducing wee bits of your past into it, yeah?” My voice sounds thick, strained, even to my own ears. I scrub a palm over my jaw. Around her, everything is overwhelming. My skin feels heated, my breathing irregular. Why is a glance from her pure torture when I’ve been with so many women who make me feel nothing outside of the bedroom?
She nods, tilting her head toward the couch. “Want to sit? Hang out for a bit?”
I close my eyes and sigh, the invitation clear. And God, I want to say yes. She walks closer, her hand stretching out to rest on the console table next to the front door. I’ve barely moved and yet, I struggle to maintain my breathing, to keep up the casual façade between us. Nothing is casual when I feel too much at the sound of her voice, the sight of her smile.
“Daisy.” I say slowly, my thoughts scattering as she leans down and removes her pumps. One high heel tilts over, lying on the floor next to the toe of my shoe. Swallowing, I look back up, my gaze slamming into Daisy’s, all the feelings I don’t want her to see on full display. Her lips purse as she waits for my answer and all I can think is how soft they would feel moving against mine. How warm her skin would be under my touch.
I want you.
The thought leaves my mind as quickly as it enters it, making me chuckle harshly at the paradox I’ve created for myself. I want to protect Daisy from the dreadful outcome that would ensue if we hooked up. I also want to stake some type of claim on her like a Highlander from yesteryear. Let her know that Dennis isn’t an option. Even though rationally, he is. He’s the right choice.
The tension between us crackles with energy as I drink in her multi-colored eyes, so bright and intense, I could drown in them. Hope and des
ire and…anticipation…flicker across her expression and a gasp falls from her mouth.
Mesmerized by her sincerity, I’m conflicted by the emotions running through me. My fingers itch to wrap in her hair, my mouth begs to cover hers. But I’m jaded, ruined, incapable of looking at the world with the same possibility as her. I’ve been there, done that, and it didn’t turn out the way I expected, the way I hoped. I learned the hard way what it feels like to trust and end up ruined.
And I don’t want to ruin Daisy. I respect her too much to make her a fling and yet…
Her teeth rake over her bottom lip expectantly, a zing of anticipation flaring in her eyes and all my reservations are shadowed by the surge of desire swelling through me. Fuck it. Stepping forward with a decisiveness that surprises us both, Daisy’s breath catches right before I reach for her. Letting my palms frame her face, I thread my fingertips through her hair. She bites her lower lip hesitantly, expectantly, and I shuffle another half a step forward, closing the space between us, until our chests are flush and each breath she takes ripples through me. Jesus. Her eyes flutter closed, her sweet lips part, and I can’t tear myself away. Dipping my head, I capture her lips with mine. She sighs into my mouth, allowing my tongue to slip inside and dance with hers.
My fingers tighten their hold and her palms skate across my shoulders, slide down my back. Slanting my mouth, I deepen our kiss, strengthen our connection, until she’s groaning and I’m shuffling her backward until the backs of her knees collide with the couch cushions and she sinks into them, pulling me down with her.
Don’t lead her on.
You can’t do this.
She’s too young for you.
She’s too good for you.
The thoughts ricochet in my brain like ping-pongs and even though I know I need to end this, to pull back, and place space between Daisy and me, I allow myself one more moment of being wrapped up in her.
Clearing my throat, I tear my mouth from hers, gazing down into her flushed face, her bright eyes. “Dais.” Her name is both a curse and a plea in the space between us. “Fuck.” I rest my forehead against hers as our ragged breathing mingles together. “We can’t –”
