many years ago.
“Blair?” Finn asks gently as he approaches my desk. I focus on him and shake my melancholy away.
“Sorry. A little lost in thought for a second there.” He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Finn has always been a gentle, calming presence since he entered my life.
“Can you get away, or are you in the middle of something? I’m sorry. I should have called.”
I wave him off. “Nonsense. I always have time for you.”
Pushing back from my desk, I close my laptop then walk downstairs with Finn beside me. In my kitchen, I grab my purse and keys. Finn waits by the door for me like a perfect gentleman. That’s all he ever is. Never trying more. Never once attempting to kiss me. I want him to so badly, but then what? Would that be the end of us if he didn’t feel the same? I’d never want to lose him as a friend. He’s too important to me.
Outside, after I’ve locked up and set the alarm, Finn opens the door of his pristinely clean, white Porsche Cayenne SUV. The restaurant business is good to him, and he has no problem showing off the fruits of his labor.
The drive to the city doesn’t take long and before I realize it, we pull up in front of his newest restaurant, Bradley’s. Simply named for the man beside me.
Since it’s early, and this place doesn’t normally serve lunch, Finn didn’t have to fight for a parking spot. He had this place built in a quieter part of downtown that’s currently on its way to becoming a trendier neighborhood. Finn loves being part of the revitalization.
Before I can open my door, Finn is on my side doing it for me. I smile, thank him, and follow him as he unlocks the front door of the restaurant.
“Beck!” he calls out.
Beck rounds a corner and smiles wide when he sees us. He’s in his late twenties and listed as one of the top chefs. Finn was lucky to hire him when he did.
“Finn, Blair, so nice of you to come by. I have a huge spread for you, so I hope you brought your appetites.” On cue, Finn’s stomach growls. He slaps a hand on it over his shirt. He has a solid wall of muscle under there. He works out regularly. “I’m hungry. I can’t wait to taste everything.”
“Me, too,” I add, once I draw my gaze from Finn. “I haven’t eaten since six this morning.”
Finn turns toward me as his eyebrows furrow, no doubt analyzing what I just said. Six in the morning isn’t crazy early. He doesn’t need to know I’ve actually been up since four, when I woke from a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.
Beck claps his hands together. “Perfect. Take a seat and allow me to dazzle your taste buds.”
We walk to the only table currently set, and Finn pulls out a chair for me then takes his own.
“Why were you up so early?” he asks. I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to escape his questioning.
I shrug, trying to make it seem like it’s nothing to worry about. “Just another nightmare. No big deal.”
“Blair,” Finn says softly as he reaches for my hand to give it a gentle squeeze. “You should have called me. I would have come over.”
There was a time when I’d wake from a nightmare and call Parker. My anxiety would be so bad that I’d hide in my closet or bathtub until he got there and would help calm me. Since Brant was killed, the nightmares haven’t completely gone away, but my anxiety has lessened. Brant couldn’t get me anymore. With the help of therapy, I’ve come a long way.
I squeeze Finn’s hand back. “You’ve been working long hours. You don’t need me waking you early with my problems.”
"You could call me ten times a night, and I would always be there. Nothing in my life is more important than you. I want you to be happy, Blair." He means it, too. Finn is the kind of man who would drop everything if a friend was in need. I’m just not someone who would ever take advantage of that.
2
Finn
A nightmare is a big deal, even if Blair doesn’t want to admit it. I’ve gone over to her house in the mornings after she’s had one. She has bags under her eyes. She’s more withdrawn. You can see the dark shadows of the dream dancing in her eyes. I hate seeing her upset. But today she seems good.
Beck strides toward the table with a tray full of food. I release Blair’s hand to sit back while he lays everything on the table. I’ve lost my appetite. I want nothing more than to comfort Blair and take her home. However, I can’t do that. Beck’s excited about us trying out some ideas he has, and maybe it’s not the worst thing for Blair to be out of the house. Besides, if she didn’t want to go, she’d have told me.
We spend the next hour sampling all kinds of food. Pairings I never thought would go together, but when Beck does it, he makes the flavors sing in harmony. It reminds me of the reason I hired him. He's the fucking best.
The drive back to Blair’s house is done in silence. Nothing more of the nightmare was said while we ate, and I didn’t want to bring it up. The last thing I want to do is cause Blair more pain. I have no doubt her thinking about the nightmare will do that.
To say I’m in love with Blair is an understatement. What I feel for her is an all-encompassing, earth-shattering, would die for her kind of love. Of course, I’ve never told her that. I don’t think she sees me as anything other than a friend. Which is just lovely. Apparently, I need more friends. Parker, Cy, Tori, and Eve are enough. I want Blair as more. But how? It's been years, and she's never given any inkling of feelings for me that are more than PG rated.