Finding Faith (Blow Hole Boys 2) - Page 64

The guys around him laughed, including Finn.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t fuck her, Finn. You should’ve sent her my way if you weren’t feeling it.”

“Chill with the language, man. My girl’s in the room,” Zeke said as he pulled Patience closer to his side.

Finn looked over at me and I turned my head quickly. Apparently, Finn was still living his wild playboy life. I remembered the way he looked sitting on that couch with his eyes closed as Jenny, worked her body on top of him. The thought of them together still made me sick four years later. Actually, hearing them talk about Finn getting laid while on tour made me sick, too.

I ignored them and went straight to the back bedrooms to get to work. I made the bed and cleaned up trash in Finn’s room first so I didn’t get stuck in his room with him again. I was working on his bathroom when I felt someone behind me.

I wasn’t in the mood for him. I didn’t think I could take any more rude remarks. I’d woken up that morning with my period and I had a severe case of PMS. I was angry and emotional and I honestly didn’t think I could sit there and take his crap without responding this time.

When I turned around, he was standing behind me, watching me work. I turned my head and continued. If I could get it done as soon as possible, then I could leave. Water from cleaning the countertop had spilled onto the floor, so I grabbed one of towels from the little bucket I took to work with me and started to clean it up. I was positive I had it all, but when I started to clean the shower, I slipped on a slick spot and fell face first into the hot shower water.

Embarrassment set in as the hot water ran over my hair and into my eyes. I put my hands out to lift myself, but the chemicals I’d sprayed on the slick tile kept making me slip. I couldn’t get up.

A set of large hands grabbed me around the waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing. Once I was on my feet, I pushed my sopping wet hair from my face and reached for a towel to dry myself.

“Thank you,” I said to Finn.

The words felt like bees stinging the back of my throat. I would’ve much rather endured the bees than to have to say thank you to him. Still, it was the right thing to do, and even though I didn’t go to church every day the way I used to, I still knew the difference between what was right and what was wrong.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking at my face. Instead, his eyes were glued to my chest. I hadn’t noticed it, but my light-blue shirt was plastered to my body. My simple black bra was showing clearly through the thin fabric. It was the only colored bra I’d ever owned, and I only bought it because I could once my parents divorced.

I pulled at my shirt and then wrapped my arms around myself. I started to walk away, but Finn grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him. I hated my body for reacting as my nipples hardened and my breathing accelerated.

He stared down at me, blue eyes taking me in. I felt naked even though I was still fully covered, and I was starting to shiver. I couldn’t decide if that was because of Finn or because of my swim in the shower.

“No more boring white cotton?” he asked with a sexy smirk.

He was playing with me again. I reached up and pried his fingers from around my arm. I jerked my body away from him and turned and left the room. I think I hated him more in that embarrassing moment than I had over the last four years.

He laughed behind me and then I heard him saying something that made me so angry I had to go to another bathroom and cool down.

“I tainted the preacher’s daughter and now she thinks it’s okay for her to wear black. Only sexy women make black look good.”

He was right. I had no business wearing black anything. I was still a boring, white cotton girl.

Twenty-Two

Finn

Black had never looked so fucking sexy—never. An angel in the devil’s clothing, holy shit, it was a turn on. The way she felt in my arms when I pulled her from the hot shower had been a thing that my memories were made of. I guess some things never changed and Faith’s body was one of them.

I hated that my cock got hard just by looking at her bra through her shirt, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I hadn’t had sex since Faith came back into my life. Not for lack of trying, but I couldn’t seem to go through with it. It was like I’d turned into the biggest puss the world had ever seen.

I stuck my hand in my pocket and wrapped it around the cross that I carried around with me everywhere. It was the only thing I had to show for having ever known Faith, other than the hurtful letter she’d sent me right after she left. That I kept in my wallet. For a while, I’d worn the cross charm on a chain around my neck, but after having a particularly rough night, I’d ripped it off. Ever since that night, it was in my pocket, always.

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