Beautiful Potential

by J. Saman

  “Yeah, I’m missing something here, aren’t I?” Chloe asks, looking back and forth between Monique and me. I shrug, trying to play it off like I’m just as clueless as she is.

  “Michael says Finn doesn’t smile and he definitely doesn’t laugh. At least he didn’t used to. But he does both of those things with Gia. And he completely ignored a very pretty and interested pediatric surgery fellow. And,” she says, pointing her finger in the air like she just remembered something, “he couldn’t take his eyes off Gia.”

  I sigh. I don’t want to hear any of this. I really don’t. I’ve got a good thing going with Mason and Finn makes it known he’s interested but will never act on that interest and I’m just…annoyed with it. And frustrated. And tired. Really freaking tired. I believe that’s exactly what I told the man.

  Trying to navigate the mind-fuck that is Finn, is exhausting.

  Especially since he has taken to texting me in addition to our frequent meetings. And the majority of those texts are in French, so most of the time so I have to translate them. But I look forward to those damn texts. I covet them.

  I’m spending all this time with Mason. We’re getting so much closer. So much stronger as a couple and yet I have this platonic and not-so-platonic relationship going on with Finn. Something has to give and I know it needs to be my ‘friendship’ with him, but I can’t make the cut. I can’t sever the ties.

  But where does that leave Mason and me?

  How can I move forward with a man when I’m stuck in limbo with another?

  “Can we just not do this? Talking about Finn is draining.”

  “Can we talk about the conjoined twins who Dr. Levine delivered the other night? Because that was fucking awesome.” Monique and I both beam at Chloe with eager, inquisitive smiles.

  “Conjoined where?”

  “On their hip, which is super lucky for them because the separation surgery isn’t supposed to be as bad there.” Chloe goes on about the conjoined twins and we eat the rest of our snack and drink the rest of our cocktails and we don’t talk about men again for the rest of the afternoon.

  And I don’t think about them either until I’m nearly at my building and I get a text from Finn asking me to meet him at Ophelia’s bar. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare down at the text. I read it over and over again.

  Then I call Mason.

  “Hey,” Mason answers on the first ring with a very audible smile in his voice. “How was shopping with the girls?”

  Moving over to the side of the building, I lean against the brick, attempting to shield myself from the cold air. “It was fun. I got a dress.”

  “That’s great. You’ll have to try it on for me since I’ll miss the big reveal.” I laugh at the way he says reveal. Mason makes me laugh a lot. I love that about him. I wouldn’t say I love him necessarily, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. “You on your way back home?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking about stopping in at Ophelia’s bar. But if you’re around, we could do something.”

  “Oh,” he says and then pauses. “I’m going to meet up with a few of the guys to shoot some hoops and then I think we’re getting dinner. You around tomorrow?”

  I shake my head, unable to determine if I’m relieved or not. “No. I’m working until seven. I can do a late dinner though.”

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll cook you something if you don’t mind making the trip downtown.”

  “You’ve got a deal. Have fun with the boys.”

  “Say hi to the tattooed queen for me.” I laugh, disconnecting the call. I didn’t tell Mason that Finn was the one who invited me to the bar and I can’t help the resulting twinge of guilt which accompanies that thought. But Mason knows I hang out with Finn. I typically tell him when I do and even though it’s not Mason’s favorite thing, he understands and accepts it.

  So why didn’t you tell him about it now?

  Yeah, I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe it’s what Monique said to me at the restaurant? I don’t know, but it’s too late to call Mason back now and tell him, so instead I text Finn letting him know that I’m on my way and I start in that direction.

  Twelve minutes later, I’m opening the door and waltzing inside. It’s decently packed in here, but it doesn’t take me long to spot Finn who is sitting at the bar, talking to Ophelia. Sliding into the vacant seat next to him, I tap him on the shoulder.

  And when he turns to face me, his eyes light up. And he smiles, showing off all of his perfect white teeth.

  Dammit.

  “Hey,” he says. “Glad you could make it.”

  “It was good timing,” I explain. “I just finished up with Monique and Chloe.”

  “How was your holiday?” Ophelia asks.

  “Not bad. Yours?”

  “Really good,” she gleams. “My little sister just had a baby so I got to spend a lot of time with them.”

  “Awesome,” I smile, looking over to Finn who is no longer smiling. “What did she have?”

  “A girl. So freaking cute. Her name is Olivia.”

  “Love that. Congrats auntie.”

  Ophelia grins at me. “What can I get you this time or is it bartender’s choice?”

  “The latter, please. Just nothing too strong. I already had a half a margarita.”

  “Coming up.”

  Ophelia winks at me and then goes off to make my drink. Spinning on my stool so I’m facing Finn, my legs dangle between us. “What about you? How was Thanksgiving with your mom?”

  Finn glances over at me, setting his beer down as he does. His expression is…lukewarm at best. I wonder if being home yesterday was difficult for him. “We ate at the club. The food was the same as always, decent, but unimaginative. The rest was…boring. I see you got a dress,” Finn bounces his head at the garment bag I draped over the back of my stool.

  I nod. “Yup. I’ll be pretty in gold. Are you coming to the party?”

  “No,” he says with an edge. “I won’t be.”

  “Oh, are you working on Christmas Eve night?”

  He shakes his head. “New Year’s.”

  “Me too. Are you going away for the holiday?”

  “No, Gia. I’m not.” His tone is curt and that is so unlike him now, it takes me a second to readjust.

  He doesn’t want me to ask why he’s not going to the party. It’s written all over his stiff posture and tight expression. So, I don’t. Finn has his limits. Sometimes he’s more open than others. Like that day at the football game.

  But today is undoubtedly not one of those days.

  “Okay then,” I shrug, turning back to the bar and grabbing my…I have no idea. “What is this?” I stare at it, scrunching my eyebrows.

  Ophelia grins like the Cheshire cat. “It’s a slow comfortable screw up against a wall.”

  I burst out laughing. “Is there such a thing?”

  She shrugs. “Not in my experience, but I’ve always wanted to make one and no one ever orders them.”

  I take a sip and wince at the strength of it. “Holy hell, I can see why. I thought I told you not too strong.”

  “Did you miss the part where I said I’ve always wanted to make one?”

  “Fine. I’ll drink half of it. Go.” I nod my head in the direction of the waiting line of people. “Do your one great. You’re pissing off the customers.”

  Ophelia blows me a kiss and tosses Finn a wink and then leaves us.

  “Where’s your boyfriend right now, Gia?”

  I can’t help but scowl at that. Why did he invite me out if he’s just going to be difficult? “Out with his friends. Would you like me to leave you alone to your shit mood?”

  “I am in a shit mood.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t know why I came out. Why I asked you to meet me.”

  “Finn?” I reach out and touch his shoulder. He turns back to me and it looks like he’s drowning. “Do you want to talk
about it?”

  He shakes his head no.

  “Do you want to go ice-skating?”

  A smile quirks up the corner of his lips. “Ice-skating?”

  “Sure,” I beam.

  “I don’t know how to ice-skate.”

  “Neither do I. We can fall on our asses together. It’ll be fun.”

  “And break something and end up in the ED. No thanks.”

  “Wow,” I shake my head at him. “You really are being a bear. Okay, no ice-skating and drinking beer doesn’t seem to be doing it for you either. What about Netflix and Thanksgiving leftovers?”

  “I don’t have any leftovers.”

  “But I do. Some better than decent ones. Imaginative ones. Come on,” I urge, tugging on his large muscular arm. Goddamn, Finn has some serious guns. When this man has time to hit the gym, I do not know. “I’ll even let you pick what we watch.”

  Finn stands up after a couple more tugs and tosses forty dollars down on the bar even though I doubt these drinks cost more than fifteen combined. I love that about him. He can be so generous sometimes and I doubt he even thinks about it. It comes naturally when he allows it to. “Fine, but I’m warning you now, I’m not picking anything sweet or romantic or funny.”

  “Okay, we’ll only watch things which are violent and serious. Possibly scary.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 31

  Gia

  “Finn,” I start, looking over at him as he sits on my sofa in front of my television, my remote poised in his hand. “I know I said I was cool with you picking the movie, but I take that back now.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge me, which is sort of exasperating if I’m being honest.

  “No, seriously. I cannot watch Clown. Clowns scare the ever-loving crap out of me under the best of circumstances. Even when they’re meant to be funny. This movie is not funny, Finn.”

  Finally, he glances in my direction, but he’s still all somber and brooding. “That’s the point, Gia. It’s a scary movie.”

  I shake my head. “That’s all well and good, but that doesn’t mean I want to have nightmares like a fucking ten-year-old over it. Pick something else. Like The Shining or Scream or Nightmare on Elm Street. Something I’ve seen a dozen times and falls more within the realm of cult classic rather than Gia Bianchi torture device.”

  “Is the food ready yet?”

  I sigh. Why did I invite him over? Why didn’t I just let him sit in that bar and stew?

  “You’re not eating any of my delicious leftovers until you change the movie. I’m one hundred percent serious. If I have to, I’ll kick your ass out over it.”

  He’s doing his best not to laugh, but I’m actually not kidding. “Fine. I’ll change it. But you do realize now that I know your weakness is clowns I can exploit it for my own personal enjoyment.”

  I pause, standing there and staring at him with wide eyes, one hand on my hip the other pointing a stern finger at him. “You’re not just an asshole, Finnigan Banner. You’re a sadistic asshole. What the hell kind of thing is that to say?”

  He sighs, leaning back in my couch and scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “Yeah. Sorry. That was pretty fucked up of me. Maybe I should just go. Clearly I’m not in the right frame of mind to be around humans at the moment.”

  “Okay,” I soften because I feel sort of bad for him. Clearly something is eating at him. “Put on Young Frankenstein because that movie is freaking hilarious. We’re going to eat amazing food, followed by apple pie.” He stares at me. Watches me. “With ice cream and whipped cream. And wine. I have a bottle of expensive wine which my cousin bought me. And you’re going to chill the fuck out.”

  Finn stands up, the motion so quick and unexpected that I start. He strides over until he’s crowding me. He always crowds me. Personal space isn’t something he abides by. At least with me. “Why do you bother?”

  I furrow my eyebrows, craning my neck so I can see him better. “What do you mean?”

  “Explain it to me. What do you get out of this?” He waves his finger back and forth between us.

  I have no answer to give him. We’ve already had this conversation. We’re mutually addicted to the other, but I don’t think that’s where he’s going right now. I think he’s hit his limit.

  “You have a boyfriend. You have a life. I’m an asshole. You said so yourself. So tell me why you brought me here.”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, stumbling over my thoughts a bit. “You are an asshole. And sometimes you irritate me to no end. And occasionally you’re too honest without being honest at all. But I care about you, okay? I do. So now it’s your turn. What do you get out of this?” I wave my finger back and forth between us the way he just did.

  “Personal suffering and torment.”

  I take a step back, because holy crap, that hurt. “You texted me to come hang out. Why would you do that if I’m so insufferable?”

  Finn grabs my face, drawing me closer, and tilting my head until his eyes bore into mine. “How can you think that? How can you can take those words and twist them into something they’re not? I can’t tell if you’re intentionally being obtuse or if you really don’t know.”

  I try to pry my face away from him, but to no avail. Finn has me in his grip and he’s got a point to make which he’s going to force me to hear. Whether I want to or not. He dips his head down until our eyes are locked and our faces are inches apart.

  “I love you, Gia. I’m in love with you. It’s why I seek you out. It’s why I ask about your stupid boyfriend who is nowhere near good enough for you. It’s why I kill myself day and in day out. I don’t know how not to. I don’t know how to let you go. And sometimes, I get to the point where it’s too much. Like today. Everything is too much. I fucking love you and it’s the last thing in the world I want to do.”

  I don’t understand. If he loves me the way he says he does then why doesn’t he want to love me? Especially when I want it so badly. “Then why–”

  “Because I won’t do it again!” he yells with so much force and conviction, I’m momentarily stunned.

  What happened to you, Finn?

  I shake my head in his hands, my eyes welling up the longer I gaze into his bright-blue eyes. This man loves me. But the thought of loving someone, of being with someone, pains him. Physically pains him. I can feel that pain leaching from him now. Rolling off him in waves.

  Finn releases my face, turns, but instead of leaving the way I expect him to, he storms over to my window and slams the side of his fist into it, rattling the pane. Then he spins back around and drops to the floor. “Finn?” I call out.

  No answer.

  Because he’s not there.

  Finn is on the floor between my window and my couch. His knees are drawn up to his chest and his face is in his hands. And he’s broken. Absolutely tortured. Just the way he said he was.

  What happened to you, Finn?

  I don’t ask my question out loud and I don’t flee into my bedroom the way my body is begging me to. Instead I slowly move across the room and drop down to my knees in front of him. My hands land on his knees and he jerks away. “Finn?” I say softly this time.

  He shakes his head. His eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Gia. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

  That’s all he says, but I think he believes that covers everything. All of the hurt he’s about to give me.

  He shakes his head again and then he laughs out humorlessly. “What the fuck? It’s not even like you’re the first one. I wasn’t like this before.” His eyes open and then they focus on mine. “What is it about you which makes you so goddamn special? Just go away, Gia. Cut me loose already.”

  I have no words. Only tears.

  What did she do to you, Finn?

  “I’m not leaving you,” I tell him.

  His eyes widen in horror. Then he smiles, but it’s not a real smile. It’s a Finn smile, I realize. “We’ll see.”

&n
bsp; “Why did you come out there, then? Why did you come after me, if this is all there can ever be?”

  I don’t even know if I’m talking about that first time on the curb outside of the ED when my father died or that night on the balcony or the first night he brought me espresso-coffee or all those other times. We’ve had so many times. And yeah, some of them have been hard. Some of them have been downright awful.

  But we’ve had so many good ones too. Some of the most memorable in my life. Finn makes me feel…hell, he just makes me feel. The good and the bad. The ugly and the beautiful. He gives as much as he takes, but what he gives is everything I need.

  “Self-destruction and blind jealousy.”

  My head drops, my chin hitting my chest as I cry. I’ve never cried like this before. Never felt this sort of raw, vulnerable emotion. Never this sort of heartbreak. I’ve been waiting for this moment with Finn Banner for so long. And he didn’t disappoint.

  If he’s not careful, he’s going to get exactly what he wants from me.

  “Is this what you want?” I sob.

  “Not even close.”

  “I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I don’t deserve it anyway.”

  “Oh god,” I wail.

  His arms wrap around my body in a flash, and I topple backward against the force of his weight, his hand cupping the back of my head so I don’t bash it against the hardwoods. His mouth is everywhere. My lips. My cheeks. My eyes. My nose. My ears. “I’m sorry,” he says. “So fucking sorry.”

  I shake my head against him, wishing I were stronger. Strong enough to get up and force him out.

  “I don’t deserve you, but I want you, Gia. Want really doesn’t even begin to describe my level of obsession.”

  I don’t know how to do this.

  “You can’t do this to me again. Tell me you want me and you love me and then push me away.”

  “I panicked, Gia. I always panic with you. Everything is a gut reaction.”

  “No,” I shake my head, my eyes still closed. “This was so much more than panicking.”