Chapter 5
Presley
I close down my computer unusually early, allowing myself plenty of time to get ready. Ordinarily, I’d wear my workout clothes to pick up Winnie and head to dinner. But today’s different. Finn’s face fills my thoughts, and butterflies flutter everywhere in my body. The way his crystal blue eyes bore into mine, the feel of his soft lips on my cheek, the way his husky voice shoved down my impending rejection of him meeting up with us tonight.
I touch my cheek and run a fingertip around the small space his lips grazed. With the small gesture, he took my breath away. Never has anyone affected me that way. Even the early days of dating Russell never sent my heart into overdrive and caused my knees to buckle.
Great way to push him away, Presley. Tell him you aren’t like most twenty-five year olds. He’s probably regretting his intent to ask you out! I silently admonish myself and go into my closet to find something appropriate to wear to a first date slash weekly date with my niece.
After rummaging through my sundresses, I decide on a casual and flirty lavender maxi with a pair of silver sandals. My hair takes a while to straighten, and by the time I swipe some mascara across my lashes, I’m a bundle of nerves. He still hasn’t called. Maybe he thought it through and realized I’m an inconvenience.
My spirits start to plummet, but then my phone rings with an unknown number. Hope springs in my chest as I clear my throat, attempting to sound as normal as possible.
“Hello?”
“Presley?” Finn’s smooth voice flows through the line.
“Yes.” I swallow.
“I didn’t miss it, did I? I’ve been in class all day and just got done.”
“Not at all, I’m about to get her. We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“You go to the one closest to your dad’s?”
“How’d you know?”
“It’s my job to know. See you soon.” He hangs up without a goodbye, and the fluttering from earlier returns.
The whole drive to get Winnie is a blur as I play out different scenarios in my head. I pray she’s in a good mood because I need her to behave tonight. Dad told me she’s been fine, but I still worry when—or if—she’s going to realize Simon is really gone.
When I pick her up, she’s as happy and energetic as always, babbling about their field trip and filling me in on all the summer camp activities. I force myself to stop thinking about Finn and try to participate in the conversation.
The second I pull into the parking lot, I stop mid-sentence. Finn is leaning against a shiny black SUV. Seeing him sends the familiar fluttering and swarming sensation to my stomach. He watches me pull into a spot, and I actually feel his gaze as I wait for Winnie to unleash her se
atbelt and crawl to the front to get out. My whole body buzzes with anticipation. Once I open the door, we both tumble out ungracefully.
Finn catches her arm and stops what could have been a true face plant since my arms are like jelly. She giggles and hugs his legs, looking at me.
“Finn’s here, Aunt Presley!” she squeals loudly.
He looks at me, surprised that she remembered him. We don’t have a chance to discuss his presence because she drags him across the parking lot to the entrance, leaving me.
I lock my doors and scramble behind them, trying to hear exactly what she’s saying. To my knowledge, she relates their only ‘real’ meeting with the funeral. He was at the house, but who knows what her little mind remembers.
I catch up as she starts to remove her shoes, telling him she will be playing before we order dinner. He nods at all the right times and helps put her shoes in the cubby as she scurries away, without another word to me.
When he turns and locks eyes with me, I grip the back of a booth for support. He looks incredible. His blue eyes shine, and his hair is unruly, yet sexy as hell. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that hugs his chest with a pair of black athletic shorts and black Nikes. Pretty sure if Nike saw him, they’d snatch him up for endorsement opportunities.
He looks away first, running his eyes over me. I tremble slightly, and my grip on the booth threatens to slip as my hand starts to sweat. He steps in close, and I hold my breath when he cups my chin and rubs his lips across my cheek.
“Presley,” his voice is thick and velvety, adding to his raging sex appeal, “you look incredible.”
My mouth runs dry and my tongue swells. He’s so close I can smell a variety of scents: the rich aroma of wood and cedar with a hint of spice. He moves back, but only enough to run his nose along mine before stepping away. My lungs start to burn, and I remember to breathe.
“Thank you,” I finally find my voice.
We stand there for a full minute before he gently touches my elbow and helps me sit in the booth. I’m disappointed when he slides in across from me.