Falling For Fin (Falling Book 5)

by Tracy Lorraine

  Before going to my appointment, I go to Debenhams and let a girl at one of the cosmetics stands do my make-up how she thinks would suit me. I can’t believe it when she holds the mirror up for me to look at myself. My skin is flawless. My eyes pop with the shadow and eyeliner around them, and my red lips look insane. I’m instantly in love with my new look. What I didn’t love so much was the price tag that all the new products came with, but I had the money stashed away for a rainy day. The first couple of years I didn’t see much of a profit from the coffee shop, but that has changed recently, and I’m now earning a good wage. Combine that with not doing much other than working, and I’ve got quite a healthy bank account.

  With my face looking like a million dollars, I headed to the salon to get a hairstyle to match. It took a lot of discussion, but eventually Shane, the stylist, and I agreed on an inverted bob and a headful of blonde highlights.

  I feel like a totally new woman when I walk through my front door that evening. I feel better about myself that I have ever done. All I need is to add some new items to my wardrobe, and I’m set.

  A few weeks later, after a long, slow winter’s day in the coffee shop, I decide to go to the cinema. I’m quite happy going alone; it doesn’t really bother me. Good job, really, because the only people I have to ask are my parents, and I think I already spend way too much time with them than is normal for any twenty-five year old.

  The incompetent, spotty teenager manning the ticket desk causes an epically long queue. Everyone waiting is beginning to complain about him, along with the out of order do-it-yourself machines, when I hear a slightly familiar voice behind me. When I look over my shoulder, Elliot is smiling down on me.

  “Wow, Connie, I almost didn’t recognise you. You look good,” he says, giving me his model worthy smile.

  He is insanely tall and make me feel like a little mouse. He’s in good shape, but much more slender than Fin, and his hair is perfect, unlike Fin’s messy blonde mop. My thoughts of Fin obviously show on my face, because Elliot instantly asks me if I’m okay.

  It turns out his blind date has stood him up. She’s an idiot, if you ask me, because he’s charming, sweet, considerate - nothing like I expected after the years of rivalry between him and Ruben. I was expecting him to be the biggest knobhead on the planet.

  After watching the latest 007 film, we head across the street for pizza and a few drinks.

  As the night goes on, I realise that I can’t remember the last time I had such a laugh with someone that wasn’t a member of my family or Fin. I know it’s sad, but it makes me feel more alive than I have in ages. I’ve worked so many hours that going out and letting my hair down has been very low on my priority list.

  It turns out that Elliot had been dropped off by his sister so he could have a drink, and was planning on getting a taxi back, so I offer him a ride home.

  I shock myself when I pull into our village by asking him if he wants to come back to mine for a drink. He doesn’t live that far away, so he can walk home easily.

  Well, a drink turns into a little kiss, and that little kiss turns into a lot of sex! I’m equally thrilled as I am gutted that I’’ve put myself out there to sleep with someone else. As much as I wanted Fin to be the only person I ever slept with, I knew it was a fantasy.

  We had a great night, and it turned into a regular thing. We tried to keep it on the down low because I was worried about it somehow getting back to Ruben, but as the weeks turned into months, we were often out and about together. I’m surprised that one of Ruben’s friends didn’t dob us in.

  I’ll always be grateful to Elliot, because he helped bring out my confidence in the bedroom and discover what I like. My only experience up until that point was Fin being in charge, or me alone with my vibrator. I couldn’t hide my utter shock one night when Eliot asked if I owned one. My embarrassment and the answer must have been clear as day on my face, because he reached straight over to the top drawer of my bedside table and pulled it out. He then introduced me to the fun that two people could have with such a toy. Needless to say, I placed a few big orders for new toys for us to experiment with not long after!

  The closer it gets to Ruben and Fin’s return, the more nervous and excited I get. I missed Ruben terribly. He rang me every week, but it wasn’t enough. I need him home. Fin though, I’m both desperate to see and terrified at the same time. A lot can change in six months, but at the same time, nothing can change. He could come back and want me, just like I still want him, or he could still believe his last words to me and things could be well untruly over between us. Not that anything ever really started.

  One look at him the first time he walks into our house when they get back, and I know more than I ever have that I want him. When our eyes connect, my brown to his blue, it’s like I’ve been beaten across the chest with a baseball bat. I ache, physically ache for him.

  If only I knew that it was only going to lead to even more heartache.

  Fin

  Present…

  I wake with a start. I’m sweating and my heart is pounding in my chest from my fitful sleep plagued with memories of how badly I’ve treated Connie over the years. It takes a while for my foggy brain to clear, but when it does, I see her face. It’s as clear as the day she looked at me: her heart was breaking right in front of my eyes. It killed me to know I was doing that to her, but it was for the best. Every fibre in my body was telling me it was for the best. Well, apart from my heart. That was breaking along with hers.

  * * *

  Nine months ago…

  Was it the right decision? I had no idea, but it was the one I had made. I was going to leave for Australia without seeing Connie. It would be easier that way.

  Somehow, I’ve managed to pretty much keep her at arm’s length since her twenty-first birthday. It’s damn near killed me to do it, but I know it’s for the best. She deserves more than me. She deserves more than a man that just wants a woman for pleasure. Committing to a woman means that I’ll give her my heart, and by giving her my heart it means that she’ll take it with her when she goes, wherever that might me. She could leave me, because let’s be honest, I’ll do something stupid, or she’ll die. Everyone dies, whether it’s in body, mind or both, so why not her? Once she finds out the truth, she won’t want to stick around anyway. Not that I’d want to burden her with all my shit.

  All I have left to do is say goodbye to my dad and ensure the carer I have arranged is all set to look after him, but I have a couple of questions for Ru before our departure. Seeing as my calls went unanswered, I decide to pop over and ask him in person. I didn’t even think that Connie would be there. She is still usually at work at this time of night. The last thing I expecte to find when I let myself into their house is her sat on the sofa.

  My heart skipps a beat when she admits that she doesn’t want me to go. I’m not stupid; I know how she still feels about me, but I have no intention of ever acting on it again. But knowing my leaving is affecting her so badly weakened my resolve. The need to touch her becomes too great; I have to pull her to me. The second our bodies touch, mine starts to relax. I didn’t even realise I was tense. The prospect of leaving is obviously playing on my mind more than I realise.

  It all happens so fast. One second I’m just holding her, comforting her, and the next I have her up against the wall, naked and panting for me.

  I should have backed away. I should have, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to walk away from Connie, so why would I think I would be able to now?

  It isn’t until the euphoria leaves my body that I realise what I’ve done.

  What I say to her afterwards will haunt me for a long time.

  It’s so far from the fucking truth it’s laughable. I don’t think she will believe me, but I have obviously done a better job than I thought I have at showing her she isn’t who I want. All the girls I’d bring back obviously have the desired effect, because when I start telling her I want a woman, not a girl, she doesn’t argue. I
’d always try to pull chicks that are the opposite of Connie so I can’t compare them, but it doesn’t work. I always compare them, and no one ever comes close to Connie’s perfection. The skinny fake chicks never hold a candle to her.

  I have to fight with myself all night not to go to her and tell her it’s all lies, that she iss the only one I want, have ever wanted. It’s only the thought of Ruben that stops me. He would choose her over me, and I would be left alone, with dad. Great! I need my adopted family more than I need to do the one thing that will make me feel complete.

  The next morning, I almost convince myself not to go. I planned it all out. I’ll admit to Ruben what is really going on with my dad. I know he’s had his suspicions about him, but I shoot him down every time he brings it up, not wanting to admit it out loud. He will then believe I can’t leave him alone, and it would mean I’d get to stay and see if Connie will forgive me. Maybe we will have a chance with Ruben on the other side of the world. By the time he comes back, maybe he will be on side. Unfortunately, there are a few too many maybes in that scenario, so I stick with my plans, eot up early, grab my bags, and head to the Fosters’ house so they can drive us to the airport.

  I shouldn’t be surprised that Connie doesn’t come with us. I hate myself for hurting her so badly that she didn’t feel she could come to say goodbye to her brother at the airport, but it’s for the best. If I leave with her hating me, it might be easier for her to forget about me. My plan is that, by the time I come back, she will have moved on.

  What I wasn’t anticipating was the pain I would be in when I realised that had happened.

  * * *

  My first port of call when we return six months later is obviously my dad. I’d had almost daily contact with the carer, so I knew he was doing okay. Yes, he’d deteriorated further since I’d left, but that was expected. I didn’t appreciate from thousands of miles away how much of a shock that deterioration was going to be. I guess to the carer it was small, because she saw him every day, but to me after six months it was huge, and I felt guilty as hell for going. I fought with myself for a long time as to whether to go or not, but in the end, my selfish side got the better of me and I decided I needed to live while I could. After all, if I inherited the bad genes from either my mum or dad, I was pretty much fucked.

  “Stevie, I haven’t seen you for ages. How’ve you been?”

  “Dad, it’s me, Fin.”

  “Oh Stevie, always the joker. When are Mum and Dad back? I’m hungry.”

  I go to argue, but I see that it is pointless and the pain is excruciating as I realise I might have missed his last few months of living a normal life. Stevie was my uncle, Dad’s little brother. He died a few years ago. He was my grandparents’ primary carer for years. They were ill for years with one thing or another. He never moved out, never married or anything. His parents were his sole companions, and when they both went in quick succession of each other, it wasn’t long before he was found by my dad surrounded by empty bottles and packets of pills. He’d been there a long time, and it was the catalyst for Dad’s massive decline. It was like the guilt took over everything and he was losing himself to it.

  I decide the best thing to do is to wait as long as possible to see Connie. I don’t think rushing over there will do anyone any favours. I haven’t spoken to her since the night before I left, but Ruben made sure to tell me all about their weekly phone calls, so I know she hasn’t moved on like I was hoping she would. I do know that she changed her look considerably not long after we left. I can only presume that is because of what I said, and it make me scared that she will still want me and that the situation won’t be any different between us. It didn’t matter how many bikini-clad women I hooked up with while we were away - it was still Connie I’d dream about at night.

  I spend the night with Dad. I make him dinner and tell him all about my travels, not that he takes any of it on board, but I feel better telling him what I’d been up to.

  I’m not surprised to get a call from Ruben later that night, inviting me round for dinner the next day with Connie and Emma. I’ve seen a huge change in him in the last few weeks, and it has nothing to do with Australia and everything to do with coming home. Or, should I say, coming home to someone.

  It seems Connie has made a new friend, and Ruben is smitten. He may have only seen a photograph of her, but he is obsessed already. I can’t lie, it’s nice to see, but I’m also worried it’s going to put a stop to our partying. I don’t mind the lack of partying. Let’s be honest, we’ve done enough. But pulling chicks on a night out is how I’ve kept myself away from Connie in the past. If that isn’t happening, then I’m worried I won’t be able to resist her kick arse little body.

  I know Connie was there the second I walk in the front door. It isn’t the smell of her cooking, it’s the goosebumps that cover my skin. God only knows how I’m still so affected by her after being away for so long.

  I walk into the kitchen and she comes into view. She’s sat at the breakfast bar, engrossed in something in her hands. This gives me time to study her. She’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a strapless top. Her now short blonde hair is streaked with purple and blue, which makes her look older, quirky and confident. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t look good on her.

  I eventually make my presence known.

  “Connie,” I say happily.

  She’s obviously completely oblivious to my invasion, because she squeaks in fright before turning towards me.

  The look on her face gives away her inner feelings when she sees me. Her eyes flash bright, her cheeks blush, and to my pure delight, I see her nipples pebble against the cotton of her top. I can’t help my cock jumping in excitement in my shorts. I shouldn’t be so pleased by her reaction to me, and I can tell by the hardening of her features after only a second or two that she isn’t too pleased about it either.

  “Fin,” she states coldly. I deserve that, though, after how we left things. She stands from her stool and goes to turn her back on me.

  “I’m so sorry, Con. I’ve missed you.” I don’t mean to say it, but I panic.

  She looks over her shoulder and I see her soften to me. As much as she wants to fight me, I know she can’t.

  “I missed you, too,” she says, before walking straight up to me and wrapping her arms around me.

  I’m home, I think as I hold her and let her scent engulf me. Her curves mould themselves to my body like we were designed for each other.

  So…that last six months away from her worked a treat then, it seems!

  It’s a great night. I finally get to meet Emma, the one who’s stolen Ruben’s heart from miles away. I can see why, though. She is so his type with all her curves. The only problem is that she seems totally uninterested in him. It looks like Ruben has a fight on his hands.

  I know it’s childish to make a bet with him that he can’t sleep with her before his parents’ anniversary party, but I’m just not ready to lose my best friend to a girl yet.

  I can’t believe the changes in Connie. Yes, there are the obvious, but she’s also so much more confident. It’s like she found herself while we were away, which I find strange, because I thought people travelling went to find themselves. She clearly needed the space to discover who she really is, and that person is unbelievably sexy. I find myself drawn to her even more than before, and that is seriously saying something. Why do I get the feeling this is all going to go horribly wrong?

  Chapter Five

  Connie

  My morning sickness is back in full force. I’d started to think it had improved, but nope! I’m so grateful for both my mum and Emma, because I don’t know how I’d have kept the coffee shop going without them the last few days. If I’m not actually throwing up, then I feel so nauseous that even a hint of a smell I don’t like has me running to the toilet. And the worst smell of all…coffee. Fucking great!

  “Hey, how’re you doing?” Emma asks when I eventually show my face about two o’clock in the after
noon. Just a glance up at her is apparently all the answer she needs. “Oh, that good.”

  I get myself sat one of the stools at the counter so I can go through a few things while I feel up to it.

  “Argh,” I groan, rubbing my bloated belly.

  “What’s wrong?” Emma asks, concerned.

  “Just getting a bit of pain. It’s nothing,” I shrug off.

  “What do you mean, nothing? you should go to the doctors if you’re getting pain.”

  Oh great she sounds like my mother. Good job I haven’t mentioned that I’ve had a little bit of spotting as well. Everything’s fine though. I don’t know how I know but I just do.

  “I’m fine, honestly,” I say trying to convince her but I wince again as I get another pain in my stomach.

  “No you’re not. You’re going to the doctor’s.” And with that statement, I watch as she lifts her phone to her ear and makes me an emergency appointment for that afternoon. When I started trying to convince her otherwise, she just walked off to the other side of the shop.

  Zoe came in to do her afternoon shift, allowing Emma to escort me to the doctor’s. I don’t think she thought I would go alone.

  “I think it’s safe to get you a scan, just to make sure everything is as it should be,” the doctor says. “I’ll call the hospital now and get them to make you an appointment. They’ll call you with a time.”

  I can’t help but think this is all being blown out of proportion. It’s fine, I know it is.

  I get the call later that afternoon. I text Emma to let her know that the appointment is for nine the next morning, and she immediately rings me back.

  “I’ll have to rearrange a meeting, but I’ll be there,” she says when I answer.

  “Don’t be stupid. I’ll be fine. I’ll take Mum,” I say, but I have no intention of taking her. The fewer people I make worry about this, the better.