A yowl echoed from the bathroom, and then his cat George swaggered out and leapt onto the bed, clearly expecting to be petted. Finn snorted and rubbed the feline between his ragged ears. “If you didn’t get into so many fights with the other cats in the neighborhood, you wouldn’t look so mangy.”
Purring with the supreme assurance only cats could manage, George butted his head against Finn’s palm. After a few minutes, Finn went back to packing, only to have George constantly get in the way, demanding attention and swiping at Finn when he didn’t receive it promptly enough for his liking. Annoyed, Finn finally picked up the tomcat and locked his ass outside. Getting his gear together had already taken twice as long as it should have.
Once he was packed, he paced the length of his living room. He’d tried TV, but an episode of Pawn Stars had been the first thing that came on. He’d flipped to ESPN only to find a college baseball game. Too much reminded him of Meg. He returned to his room so he could change into sweats and some beat up sneakers. He usually took a run around sunset, then sat on the beach until the final rays disappeared below the horizon. He was running a little earlier than normal, but he’d rather do a couple extra wind sprints than stay here.
After locking his front door, he pocketed his keys and cell phone. A few minutes of stretching on the porch and he was ready to go.
“Hi, Finn.”
He glanced over and saw one of his neighbors—a pretty woman who’d always been friendly to him and put cat food out on the porch for George whenever Finn was out of town.
“Oh, hey, Jeannie.” The wind picked up and he zipped the front of his hoodie. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” Her smile was sunny and welcoming. “Did you have fun on your trip?”
Fun wasn’t the word he’d use, but he forced an answering grin. “I did. Thanks for asking. And thanks for looking after my cat.”
Not that George liked her. He’d had a hissy fit the one time Jeannie had tried to pet him, but he deigned to allow her to give him food before backing away from the bowl slowly.
“No problem.” She hesitated, then seemed to steel herself. “Um…I was wondering if you might like to have coffee sometime.”
The request caught him by surprise, and he blinked at her like an idiot. He should do it. Throw himself back out there, and not dwell on his failure with Meg. His neighbor was nice and attractive. And interested in dating him, unlike Meg. He opened his mouth to accept, but that wasn’t what came out. “Maybe some other time. I just broke up with—”
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” Jeannie’s hands fluttered in a flustered gesture. “I just haven’t really seen you with any women guests—not that I’m spying on you or anything—oh, shit, this is weird now.”
He laughed, the sound straggling past the heaviness that had been pressing down on his chest since Vegas. “It’s not weird. Don’t worry about it. I’m flattered you asked. It’s just bad timing.”
“Okay.” She managed a brave smile. “See you later.”
“Later.” He waved, and then turned for the Pacific.
Another example of his mind and heart not being on the same page. His mind said move on, his heart wasn’t there yet. He still loved Meg too much to pretend he was ready to try again with someone else. He stretched his legs into a run when he hit the sand and concentrated on regulating his breathing as the ocean waves lapped at the beach. It hurt like hell to be without Meg now, but it wouldn’t always be that way. He might always wonder what might have been, but he would heal, and Vegas would eventually be a bittersweet memory.
He’d be all right, someday.
Hugo nudged her hand, whimpering in that sad, pathetic way of his, giving Meg the big puppy dog eyes. It was hard to say which of them was more depressed and miserable. She’d been putting on a good face at work, but alone at home she could admit it. Classes had been back in session for three whole weeks, and she’d done everything in her power to avoid seeing Finn. It wouldn’t last. The school—hell, the town—wasn’t that big, and she’d have to deal with him eventually.
It just hurt. All the time, every single second. Doing the right thing shouldn’t make her feel so awful, but it did. She wrapped an afghan around herself and curled up on her couch, closing her eyes. Hugo gave a wheezy grunt as he heaved himself onto the sofa with her and laid his head across her ankles.
A knock sounded on her door, and she ignored it. She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. It was Friday and she had the whole weekend to wallow in her self-pity and pretend the world didn’t exist. She’d been doing that for three weekends straight and she was starting to annoy herself, but she hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to care enough to change anything.
The front doorknob rattled and she heard the hinges creak as the door swung open. Aw, shit. Her friends had keys to her place, and now she was going to pay for ignoring their calls and skipping their weekly dinners. She hadn’t even managed to sit up before they ranged around her, arms folded across their chests.
“You’ve been avoiding us,” Julie accused.
“It’s not just you.” Meg pushed her hair out of her face. “I don’t feel well. Go away.”
“It’s been three weeks, so either you’re dying or you’re lying.” Karen sat on the coffee table, crossing her legs.
Anne snorted, jerking the blanket away from Meg. “We’re staging an intervention. Get your purse and grab the dog.”
For about half a second she considered protesting and then gave it up for a lost cause. It would be faster to just go along with whatever they wanted so she could come home and get back to stewing in her wretchedness. Sighing, she pushed herself to her feet, put on some shoes, and fetched her purse and a leash for Hugo. She clipped it on his collar. “Come on, buddy. Your aunts want to torture you.”
They all piled into Karen’s sedan—Julie, Meg and Hugo stuffed into the back. Julie scratched one of the dog’s ears. “He really is the saddest specimen of a mutt on the planet.”
Karen chortled and regaled them with a few more stories of Hugo versus her husband. Tate didn’t seem to have fared well in the battles and Karen was a little too gleeful about it. Meg closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the window. They were making idle conversation now, but the grilling would commence soon enough and she had to figure out what to say.
They hit a speed bump and her eyes flew open. She’d figured they were going to dinner at the Moonside Café, but they’d turned right toward the ocean instead of left toward town. “Where are we going?”
Karen glanced in the rearview mirror and met her gaze. “We thought we’d go for a walk on Poplar Beach. Is that okay?”
Reeling in Hugo’s leash, Meg nodded. “Sure.”
A few more speed bumps and they were in the parking lot near the beach. They climbed out and Anne and Karen went to handle the parking meter. Julie and Meg sat on the hood of the car to wait for their friends. The ocean dominated the view, but they’d have to walk down a bluff to get to the beach.
Julie propped her elbows on her knees. “Anne told us about Finn, how he asked her to talk you in to Vegas. We’re assuming you guys hooked up there, it didn’t go well, and that’s why you’ve been sick with the plague for weeks.”
“It’s not his fault.” No, it was all her fault. Finn had been amazing about everything. He wasn’t perfect, but he’d fit her so well. He made her laugh. Her lips twisted.
Julie’s gaze was sympathetic. “So, you ended it and not him, huh? Anne hasn’t been able to pry any more out of him than we’ve gotten out of you. It might help to talk about it.”
Maybe, but to explain what had gone wrong with Finn would mean admitting to what had gone wrong with Brandon. That she might have been the Other Woman. That the idea of misjudging a man that badly again had kept her from even trying with Finn. Tears glutted her eyes, as they had far too many times in the last few weeks.
Karen came up on the other side of her, settling on the car. “Come on, tell us what happe
ned. You don’t want to make us do this the hard way.”
A tearful chuckle trickled out of her. She doubted the truth would set her free, but at least she wouldn’t be troubled by the lies anymore. There was something to be said for that. “Okay. I need to tell you guys some stuff that happened a few years ago.”
Julie held her hand while the truth spilled out, Karen slid a supporting arm around her waist, and Anne paced in front of them, a protective mother hen ready to attack. Hugo just sat there and looked worried, whining and nosing Meg’s shoes. It took a while to get it all out—to admit everything. She felt like a fool all over again—somehow she doubted that royal fuck up would ever stop burning a hole in her belly.
She hunched her shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. At first, I thought he’d come back. I was so stupid. And the longer I waited, the stupider I felt.” She clenched her teeth to keep her lips from shaking. “The more I realized Regina might have been right and he may have been cheating on her with me.”
“Oh, hon. With your parents’ breakup, that had to have been the worst part.” Karen hugged her closer, and Meg shuddered with a sob.
“It should have occurred to me, but I didn’t even consider that he’d lie to me. I should have known better and learned from my mother’s example.” She leaned on Karen’s shoulder. “I was such an idiot.”
“Yeah, you were,” Anne said bluntly, still pacing back and forth. “Not because of that jackass, but because we’re friends and we would have been there for you. That’s the kind of time when you need friends the most.”
“I know.” Meg sighed, though she did feel better not having to keep this from them anymore. Nothing had changed, but she felt unburdened. A small improvement. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about pretty much everything I did back then.”
“Don’t be.” Julie squeezed her hand. “We all make mistakes.”
“Did the week in Vegas with Finn bring this up?” Anne asked, her hair ruffling in a fiery halo when the sea breeze kicked up.
Meg rubbed her eyes. “Yes.”
“What are you going to do about him?” Julie put in.
“I don’t know. He says he loves me.” Her tongue tripped over the word. Brandon had told her the same thing and that hadn’t made him stick around when things got rough, had it? And Finn hadn’t spoken to her since they got back from spring break. She knew that wasn’t fair—she hadn’t spoken to him either. And why would he want to talk to her? She’d been the one to push him away and demand a return to their former distance.
“Do you love him? Because it doesn’t matter what he feels if you don’t feel the same way. A relationship based on sex isn’t worth it and won’t last.” The bitter tinge to Karen’s words made Meg wonder if she was speaking from experience.
“There was definitely sex, but it wasn’t like we spent the whole week in bed. And it’s not like we didn’t know each other before. It was more than just sex. A lot more.” Saying that aloud was painful, because she hadn’t been able to admit her feelings to Finn. She liked him, respected him, and she knew he liked and respected her.
He loved her.
“But do you love him?” Karen persisted, pushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Or…could you fall in love with him if you let yourself?”
Ah, there was the rub. The question she absolutely hadn’t allowed herself to face. “I love him, but I am so scared. Of ending up like Mom and Dad, or Brandon and me. There are no guarantees.”
“Nope.” Julie slid off the hood and pushed away from the car. “Relationships are a risk. So, you have to ask yourself if you trust yourself to make the right decision this time, and if you trust him to stick by you, even though your dad and Brandon were faithless jerks.” She glanced back. “No offense to your dad, but…”
“Those weren’t his best moments,” Meg finished. “He’s apologized to me and to Mom, but that doesn’t change what he did.”
She sat there for a long time, silent. Did she trust Finn not to bail on her? Not to cheat and hurt her? Did she trust her own judgment well enough to be willing to make a commitment to him? That was probably the worst of Brandon’s crimes, in the end. Not that he’d lied and left her, but that his actions had destroyed her faith in herself. And she’d let him do it. That seared her soul. She’d let him steal her chance to be happy with someone else. She’d let him make her afraid.
But she’d grown since then. She had taken a risk on Finn. Maybe not the biggest risk of all—commitment—but she’d gotten involved with a colleague. That had been a huge step. She’d been a lot more spontaneous when she was with him, willing to react without overanalyzing everything. She had changed, little by little. It felt as if she’d been hiding inside a protective shell for years, only coming out of it for her friends, and Finn had made her want to free herself from it entirely. When had the protection become a prison?
It wouldn’t be the end of the world to go out on a date with him. It wasn’t as if she had to marry him tomorrow. If things didn’t work out, she’d be hurt, and that hurt would take a long time to get over. She had to accept that possibility too—the good and the bad. But wasn’t she hurting now? Wasn’t she regretting the missed chance with Finn? Did she want to feel like this every time she ran into him at work? Maybe it would get better with time, but did she want it to? Did she want to feel good about chickening out on what might have been perfect for her?
No. No, she didn’t want to take the coward’s way out. She didn’t want to doubt herself forever, too scared to go after what she wanted and fight to keep it. She believed in herself enough to do this, and she believed in Finn enough to know he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. There were still no guarantees that they’d live happily ever after, but…she had to at least try.
“Hey, look at this, guys.”
She blinked and saw Anne motioning them over to the edge of the bluff. The group straggled over to join her, with Meg tugging Hugo’s leash to get the hound moving. It took her a moment to see what Anne was pointing at, and when she did, her stomach did a back flip. A tall man was running short sprints back and forth on the beach, his hair gleaming red in the sunset.
“Finn.” She turned an accusing gaze on Anne. “You knew he’d be here.”
“Guilty as charged.” Her friend leaned in close. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not ready to see him.” She stumbled back a step. Sure, she’d decided to find out if he still wanted to date her, but talking to him about it right this second was terrifying.
“Nobody’s ready for love,” Karen retorted, the voice of experience. “That doesn’t really stop it from showing up.”
“You can’t hide forever.” Julie bumped her shoulder against Meg’s. “What you had with Brandon wasn’t real because he wasn’t genuine.”
“Finn is,” Anne finished. “Don’t compound your first mistake by making an even bigger one now. He loves you, and he’s been a nasty beast to work with the last couple of weeks. So be a pal and put me out of his misery.”
Meg laughed, the sound watery.
“All right.” Karen made a shooing motion at the other two. “We’ve done all we can. It’s up to you if you want to go down and talk to him.”
Julie ruffled Meg’s hair. “We’ll be at the Moonside. It’s a short walk if you decide you want to join us instead of talking to him. We’re here for you no matter what.”
And they would be there for her if Finn decided he didn’t want to deal with her fears. Which he had every right to do, especially after she’d kicked him out of her life. It was a comfort, knowing her girls would always be on her side. She should have told them about Brandon a long time ago. If she hadn’t bottled it up all these years, she might have gotten over it by now. She put that regret aside. Beating herself up over that past hadn’t helped, and she needed to look forward, not back. “Thanks.”
Anne leaned in for a quick hug, and whispered in Meg’s ear, “You’re not going to find one like
him again, hon. Don’t throw away happiness.”
“I won’t,” she whispered back. “Let’s just hope he still wants me.”
“He does.” Anne’s smile held the confidence Meg lacked.
She’d put him through the ringer, rejected the love he’d offered her. It seemed only fair she give him the opportunity to return the favor. Queasiness settled in her belly as her friends drove away. She really despised confrontation—a trait picked up from watching her parents argue—and now she was in for the fight of her life. God, help her.
“Come on, Hugo.”
He gave a whining little grunt as he heaved to his feet and followed her down the trail to the beach. The walk across the sand seemed endless. Finn was a blur, he ran so fast. He’d stop just long enough to touch the wet beach, then shoot in the other direction for about fifty feet and do the same thing. A churned furrow showed he’d been at it for a while. He didn’t even glance up as she drew near, his brow creased in concentration.
“Finn.”
He stumbled as she spoke, whipping around to stare at her as if she were a ghost. Chest heaving, sweat pouring down his skin, he swiped a hand across his face. “Meg.”
“Hi.” She tried not to cringe at her own banality.
He glanced around at the deserted beach. “What are you doing here?”
Courage, Meg. Courage. He’d said what they had was worth fighting for, and she had to believe he meant it. “I came to talk to you. Anne gave me a push in the right direction.”
That earned a snort. “I hope it wasn’t too hard a push.”
“Just enough to get me moving.” Her lips twisted. “It’s good to see you.”
“It hurts to see you.”
The frank words made tears burn her eyes, but she blinked them back. She deserved whatever he had to dish out. “I want to apologize.”
Vegas Vacation (Destination Desire) Page 13
