CHAPTER 019: The Universe Is Sending Us A Sign
CHAPTER 019: The Universe Is Sending Us A Sign
I’m finding it difficult to believe he’d actually invade my privacy in such a manner. A part of me just wants to wait to see if he‘
d go through with it so I can bring down the sky on his head.
But I know better. In his current state, all bets are off.
I run, overtake him, and plant myself in front of the drawer just as he reaches it.
“Did you not hear me say stop, Finn?”
He glares at me. “Move aside, Sloane.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Since you can’t think with anything other than your lady bits when it comes to my brother,” he says, stepping closer, “I’m going to do the thinking for you. Whatever’s in that drawer is getting burned.”
My fists clench at my sides. The anger rises, quick and hot, like fire licking the inside of my ribs.
“You will do no such thing.”
“Like hell I won’t. Move out of my way.”
I step into him. We’re toe–to–toe now. I’m looking up because he’s taller, but I refuse to shrink.
“I said, you won’t touch or see whatever’s in that drawer.”
He shakes his head. “What has come over you? Are you under a spell? Is this some sort of modern–day voodoo? Move, or I will move you.”
“I dare you to touch me. I dare you to open that drawer. You will never see me again.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Do it, Finn. Find out.”
He stares. That bullshit grin on his face fades slowly, like a curtain being drawn shut. Suspicion creeps in, clings to his features. Something darker follows–the realization that maybe I’m serious after all.
“You would leave me because I’m trying to protect you from my scumbag brother?”
“I don’t need your protection. I am an adult.”
“Then start acting like one.”
That’s it. I shake my head and walk away, fury boiling beneath my skin. I make a beeline for the closet, rip the door open, and drag out my suitcase. It hits the bed with a loud thunk.
“Sloane, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, wise one Finn?”
“You can’t leave me here.”
“Watch me.”
I yank my clothes off hangers and start throwing them in. Folded or not, I don’t give a shit. I just want out. Every thunk of fabric is a declaration: I’m done. I’m done with this house, this trip, this warzone of male ego and brotherly dick–measuring contests disguised as “protection.”
I reach for my makeup bag, and that’s when I hear him→
Finn. Heavy footsteps. That stiff, purposeful kind that tells me he’s about to start trouble.
He charges in behind me and yanks the pile of clothes right out of my suitcase.
“What the fuck, Finn!”
He doesn’t answer. He just grabs the armful of clothes and marches them back to the closet with all the silent rage of a man who thinks he’s doing the right thing.
I see red.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I charge after him, my blood roaring. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I shove him aside and rip every single item right back off the
Successfully unlocked!
I storm back to the bed and fling the clothes down agam suiteuse now looking like it’s on the verge of imploding.
And then Finn–the audacity of this man–walks right back over and, without even blinking, scoops up the entire pile of clothes… and drops them all on the floor.
The floor.
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CHAPTER 019. The Universe Is Sending Us A Sign
“Finn,” I say, voice trembling with the effort it takes not to throat–punch him into next week. “I swear to God.”
He crosses his arms. “You’re not leaving me, Sloane. I don’t want you to. I won’t allow it.”
“Oh, well then,” I say. “Since you’ve decided I no longer have free will, I guess I’ll just curl up in a corner and wait for you to tell me when I can breathe again.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Don’t be-?” I laugh. “You just threw my clothes on the floor like a toddler, Finn.”
“They don’t belong in a suitcase.”
“Well, that’s too bad, Papa Bear,” I say, sweeping past him toward the mess he made. “Because I’m leaving. Good luck getting back that bitch you call a girlfriend.”
I don’t even look at him as I bend down to gather my clothes.
“Sloanie,” he says, coming closer.
I whirl around. “Put your hands on my clothes again, and I’ll choke you with a bra.”
He backs off, palms raised. I pile the clothes on the bed, ignoring him completely.
Until I feel it.
Hands around my legs. Squeezing tight. I glance down. Finn is on his knees.
“Finn.”
“I have no one. You’re just going to leave me to fend for myself in this big, wide world. The predators will eat me alive.”
“What predators? Are we in the jungle?”
“I’m a helpless, heartbroken man who wants his best friend by his side during a very tough time. Do I have to cry to get your attention? Should I bawl my eyes out so you can keep your eyes on me?”
“Don’t you dare cry.”
He starts blinking like crazy. “My life is over.”
“I said, don’t you dare.”
“You’re going to leave me, so what’s the point in holding back?”
“Jesus, Finn,” I say, exasperated, “I’m not going. Would you please take your hands off my legs?”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I mean that. Hands off now.”
His grip loosens. He lets go and stands, brushing imaginary dust off his pants.
Then he sits on the bed.
Smiling.
I stare at him. I don’t even have the strength to be angry anymore, especially not with that look on his face. He’s grinning, charming as ever, like he didn’t just emotionally blackmail me into staying.
“So,” he says. “Back to business.”
“Business?”
“I’ve been thinking about the best way to get Delilah’s attention.”
Delilah?
We went from drawer invasion, to packing apocalypse, to leg–clutching breakdown, to Delilah in under five minutes
Who am I kidding? Everything always leads back to Delilah.
“Delilah?” I say.
“Yeah.” He narrows his eyes. “You do remember the promise you made me yesterday, right? That you’re going to help me stop the wedding?”
“How could I forget when you’re always here to remind me?”
“Great. I figured we’ve been approaching this entire thing wrongly.”
I stand there, arms crossed, confused. “We have?”
“Yes. I came to Asheville looking broken and in anguish. And Delilah feeds on that shit. It makes her happy.”
“Where did you learn that from? You finally took my sister up on her offer and went to therapy?”
“I got a revelation, Sloane. It came to me in a dream.”
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