CHAPTER 033: Say My Name
***
~~FINN~~
***
To be honest, the words sounded a lot better in my head when I formed them.
There’s a difference between planning the perfect conversation and actually speaking it out loud. Sloane’s eyes are locked on me now, narrowed. I’d been searching for the cleanest way to honor Knox’s deal, because I know my brother–he’s unhinged, and he meant every word he said. So I have to do this. Let Sloane go. Even if it’s just for now. Knox’s obsessions don’t last long. They burn bright and fast, and then they’re gone. He’ll move on. I’ll get Sloane back. And Delilah–Delilah will be mine once again. That’s how this plays out. That’s how it’s supposed to play out.
But I can’t do it.
I can’t.
The moment I picture Sloane not speaking to me, not sitting beside me, not texting me to tell me how stupid I am, not looking at me like I’m still some kind of good–it’s like the air’s been sucked out of the car. My chest tightens. My breath shortens. She’s been my only real friend for years. The one constant. The only thing that’s ever made sense. If I lose her, what the hell do I have left?
“I beg your pardon?” she says.
This is the moment. My cue to double down, make it messy, burn it all so I can walk away clean. That was the plan. Get angry. Accuse her of being dishonest. Break the friendship and free her for Knox to devour.
Only… I can’t.
My fingers tap nervously on the steering wheel. My throat is dry. The words I was supposed to say are now choking me.
“I… uh,” I start, then stop. “That didn’t come out right. I’m sorry.”
“No shit, Finn. I was just about to ask you to stop the car.”
I chuckle, attempting to break the tension. “It’s my mom,” I say. “She mentioned it. I told her she was wrong, but it’s been stuck in my head for a while. I meant to ask you. Just… didn’t know how.”
“Your mom told you I want to get in your pants?”
I wince at the mistake of adding Mom into this. “Yeah.”
“And you believed her enough to ask me? If I’m in love with you? If I want to screw you?”
Well, it’s not like I asked any question I don’t know the answer to.
I’ve always known.
Since the day she sat next to me in that economics lecture, claiming she got the room wrong. I didn’t believe her. Not for a second. Before that, I’d seen her everywhere. In the hallway outside my journalism class. In the library when I studied late. At every campus event I attended, always hovering a few feet away. I’d catch her glancing over her glasses, then ducking her head like she didn’t want to be seen. She was stalking me. This strange girl with her bangs and glasses was my college
stalker.
At first, it had annoyed me. Then it started to amuse me. Most girls who crushed on me were loud about it. Also, they weren’t overly intelligent nerds who constantly had their noses stuck in a book. When she pretended to miss her way and dropped into a seat beside me the day we officially met, I remember thinking, what the hell, might as well keep her around. But she turned out to be funny. Sharp–tongued when she wanted to be. Brutal in her honesty. And she hated every single person I hung out with, especially the ones I took to bed. That alone was entertaining enough to keep her close.
So yeah, I knew she had feelings for me. I saw it. I wasn’t blind. The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. The way she’d roll her eyes at whatever girl was clinging to me that week. I just hoped she’d never say it out loud. That I’d never have to say no and watch our friendship crack open down the middle.
Even now, I don’t want this relationship to end.
I can’t imagine life without her. Without her dry wit. Her judgmental eyebrows. Her oddly timed texts. Without her.
“Of course you love me,” I say, trying to sound pravte That’s the way of things.”
frie ‘on’t love each other? I love you. You love me.
Successfully unlocked!
She doesn’t respond. My damage control isn’t working.
I add, “It was stupid of me to ask. My mom just put these weird thoughts in my head, and I let it get to me. I’m sorry.”
I can feel her staring at the side of my face, eyes cutting through every lie.
1/3
CHAPTER 033: Say My Name
But she lets it go.
“Today was a long day,” she says.
“It was.”
“I can’t wait to get on plane tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
She hesitates, then says, “Does this mean you’ve given up on Delilah?”
The answer is simple.
No.
Delilah is lightning in a bottle. There’s no one else like her. No clones. No doppelgangers. And yeah, she’s toxic. But I’ve tasted her chaos, and I want it. I crave it. Whoever experiences her would understand why.
But I can’t say that to Sloane.
“I think so,” I say instead. “She’s made her choice. We’ll be there tomorrow to celebrate with her, wish her a happy marriage.”
Sloane hums. She doesn’t believe me.
The rest of the ride is quiet. I stare at the road. She stares at the window. The silence between us is heavy. Every bump on the road shakes something loose in me. Panic.
I don’t want to lose her.
But I already agreed to.
Knox isn’t bluffing. He never is. If I don’t give him space to pursue her, he’ll ruin my plans with Delilah. But how do I make Sloane stay away from me without her knowing I’m pushing her?
How do I make Knox believe I’ve ended things? There has to be a way to fake the distance. Just enough to let him make his move. Just enough to get Delilah back.
We pull into the driveway, and before I can even turn off the engine, she’s out of the car and walking fast toward the house. I follow, stepping into the warmth of the foyer, where my father is flipping through a men’s magazine.
“Hope you didn’t wreck the car,” he says without looking up.
“I didn’t. But if I did, I’m sure you’d just get a new one.”
“Oh no,” he replies. “You wreck anything of mine now, you’re paying for it. Welcome to adulthood.”
“Noted, Dad. Goodnight.”
“Finn,” he calls after me, “you might be an adult, but I don’t condone sex under my roof.”
I freeze halfway up the stairs. “What?”
“You and your ‘friend“,” he says. “No sex in this house.”
I just stand there, staring at the back of his head. I don’t have the energy to argue.
I climb the rest of the stairs in silence, passing Sloane’s room on my way to mine. But then I hesitate. I haven’t said goodnight.
I push open the door.
“Sloane?”
She’s there. Coat off. Dress halfway unzipped. Her chest bare.
“Finn, what the hell!” she shouts.
I shut the door and practically flee down the hall, trying not to think about the fact that I just saw her naked.
~~~
I sleep like shit. It’s difficult to get a good rest when you’re dreaming about ending things with your best friend.
I wake just after five a.m.
I’m going to fix this. Sloane just needs to stay away from me during the wedding. Just enough to let Knox ruin things. I’m sure if I talk to her in the right manner, she’ll do it for me.
I grab the house’s spare keys and my phone from the nightstand.
Leaving my room, I head for Sloane’s room, careful not to make too much noise in the hallway. Mom’s a light sleeper.
I reach Sloane’s door. Locked, as expected.
It would be pointless to knock. She sleeps like a corpse and isn’t due to wake up for at least another two hours.
I pick a key and twist.
CHAPTER 033. Say My Name
The room is dark. I wait for my eyes to adjust, then move to the bed, sit, and shine my phone’s screen on her face.
She’s still asleep, curled on the bed. Mouth slightly open. No glasses. Hair a mess. Sometimes I forget how different she looks with the glasses off.
To be honest, I don’t know why I’m here.
I brush a finger through her hair.
She shifts. Whispers something. I almost don’t catch it.
“Knox.”
My stomach twists.
I turn on the bedside lamp. Climb under the covers. Lie beside her.
“It’s Finn,” I whisper to her face. “If you’re going to say a name in your sleep, say mine.”
She doesn’t stir.
That’s when I realize she’s naked.
I lift the blanket, just a little, more out of instinct than intention. And suddenly I can’t look away.
My eyes travel over her skin.
Her breasts are soft, flushed from the heat of sleep, the swell of them rising with every breath. Her stomach is smooth, delicate, the kind of softness that makes you want to trace it with your mouth just to see if she shivers. Her hips curve out from her waist, bare and warm and so close to me. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin.
My throat goes dry. Something tightens low in my gut.
And then something else stirs–slow, dark, undeniable. An ache I’m not proud of.
My body reacts anyway. I clench my jaw, shutting my eyes, trying to force it down. Trying to tell myself that this isn’t the time. That this isn’t how I want to remember her. That I shouldn’t be looking at her like this.
I lower the blanket, swallowing hard, and pull it gently over her again–shielding her from me.
Then I gather her closer, drawing her head to my chest.
listen to her breathing. I try to match it. I try to pretend my heart isn’t racing.
And I try even harder to forget how much of her I just saw. And how much I wanted more.
I don’t even realize I’ve drifted off until I feel someone shaking me awake.
I open my eyes to Sloane frowning down at me, the entire blanket wrapped around her like armor.
“How did you get in?” she says. “And what are you doing here?”
