WALKING THE LINE

Chapter 11

ELLIE

I snuck a peek downstairs and when I saw Finn settle onto the barstool next to Kye, I knew he'd be a while.

Kye often did this; turned up at the bar at all hours if he'd had a bad day. Because the kid was so mixed up, he had a few of those. Usually we'd share a drink, shoot pool, play poker, talk. At least, Kye would talk, I'd listen. I didn't mind being his stand-in mum. He was a good guy and Sheree would've done the same for me if I'd had a kid.

An old, familiar pain twanged my chest at the thought of what I wanted and would never have. Now, like back then when my perfect life had crumbled before my blinkered eyes, I marched to my apartment, slammed the door and headed for the bedroom.

It took me a full five minutes to realize I was zipping into my leathers, gelling my hair, applying lashings of red lipstick and slipping on the chunkiest silver rings I could find, when I should've been getting ready for Finn.

"Jeez," I muttered, sinking onto the edge of my bed, letting the four-inch spiked heel boots in my hand fall to the floor.

I didn't have to run away anymore. I owned this place. This was my sanctuary. And I had the promise of all-night sensational sex to take the edge off my sorrow.

Because that's exactly how I felt every time I rehashed the past, even in my head. Sad. Bone-deep grief, the kind that could sap energy and render me useless if I let it. I should know. I'd let it get a grip on me for almost a month after Dougal had first left.

Dougal. The man of my dreams. My high school best friend who'd had enough of a bad boy edge to make him attractively dangerous, yet gentle and sweet around me. The guy who'd promised me the world. The guy who'd given me jack-shit instead.

Angry that I'd let my memories get the better of me, I stood and started ripping off my clothes, before heading to the bathroom to remove the rest of my mask. I didn't need war-paint or fierce hair to be with Finn. And that's what I needed right now: to be with Finn.

Finn made me feel good. Made me feel hopeful. Made me forget.

I showered quickly and donned a robe. I opened my door, heard the murmur of voices at the back door and padded barefoot to his room. I'd slipped under the covers as Finn's footsteps pounded up the stairs.

The bedroom door flung open and I startled. Finn stalked into the room, auburn curls awry, aquamarine eyes glowing with fervor.

"Is everything okay—"

"Yeah, Kye's good, he just left." He stared at me for an eternity, before closing the door.

"I need you to listen." He made a zipping motion over his lips as he strode to the bed and sat next to me. "Hear me out without saying a word."

"O-kay..."

I didn't like his expression, halfway between bold and batty.

He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. "I've been thinking about this for a week."

Not liking the sliver of foreboding shimmying down my spine, I eased back a little. "About what?"

"Staying. In Sydney."

Three little words to strike fear into my heart when I had to believe that what we had was sex and nothing more.

While I was freaking out on the inside, I tried to appear calm and clarify, because Finn could be sticking around for a variety of reasons.

I willed my voice to remain steady. "Why?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You seriously have to ask?"

He squeezed my hand. "I care about you. A lot. And I thought—"

"Stop." I yanked my hand out of his and scooted across the bed, away from him and out of reach. "This is ridiculous."

Confusion creased his brow. "I don't understand—"

"That's obvious."

I reached for my robe draped on the end of the bed and shrugged into it. No way could I have this conversation naked. Not when I'd need to storm out of this room shortly before I relented and listened to the nagging voice inside my head that insisted I knew exactly where this was going but was too damn scared to admit it. "Look, Finn, we've had fun but you can't stay in Sydney because of me."

His mouth flat-lined, his glower mutinous. "The connection we share is more than sex and you know it."

Hugging my knees to my chest, I shook my head. "What I know is you've got your whole life in front of you. A career to forge. Women to meet. Kids to raise."

I waved my arm around the room. "That's not going to happen if you're stuck in a shithole tending bar because you've left Ireland for the first time and have confused a good fuck for something more."

I hated cheapening what we'd shared, but I had to do it. Had to belittle and taint our relationship so he wouldn't make the biggest mistake of his life.

Because of me.

Rather than erupt and tell me to get the hell out, his eyes narrowed, his stare too astute, too assessing. "Tell me who hurt you so badly—"

"I'm done here."

I swung my legs over the end of the bed and tried to stand as he lunged across and hauled me back with an arm around my waist.

"You're pushing me away verbally, just like you do everyone else with your bad-arse attitude and leathers and make-up." He tried to hold me tighter and I wriggled, desperate to escape. "Stop the pretense because I can see right through your armor." He murmured in my ear, "I'm not leaving, Ellie, so get used to it."

I stilled, the fight draining out of me, replaced by a fierce desperation to do the right thing. Because for one terrifying second, I wanted to believe. Believe that Finn really could see through me, and that he liked me anyway, that he'd stay regardless.

That he'd never run.

But that second passed and the reality was, I'd have to push him away, once and for all.

To do that, I'd have to lay myself bare and tell him the truth.

"Let me go," I hissed through clenched teeth, elbowing him at the same time. I made contact with his solar plexus and he released me on a loud exhalation.

I stood, spun around to face him. "If you stay, what do you envisage happening with us? White picket fence? Housewife? A family?"

He eyed me warily. "You know that's what I want eventually, but our relationship is new and—"

"There is no relationship," I yelled, making us both jump. "You'll head to Melbourne to complete the internship your grandfather bent over backwards to get. You'll meet some sweet girl who'll give you the seven kids so you can replicate your parents. And you'll forget all about the fling you had at the first stop of your Aussie adventure."

"I won't forget." He stood so quickly I stumbled trying to back away. "And just because I opened up to you about wanting a big family one day, don't use it as an excuse to push me away when we're only getting started."

He tried a lop-sided smile, the one that slam-dunked my heart every time. "Because I'd settle for three brats, you know. Maybe even two—"

"I can't have kids!" I screamed, my throat convulsing. "I'm a fucking decade older than you. And by some remote chance we could ever make a relationship work, I can't give you what you want..."

My chest heaved with the effort to subdue the sobs making breathing difficult. "I was like you once. Naive and hopeful, with big plans and big dreams. The perfect relationship with the perfect person, or so I thought. Then the going got tough. We found out I was reproductively challenged. And he didn't want me because I was flawed. So when your dreams turn to shit, the people around you run and the only one you can depend on is the last person standing."

I touched his shell-shocked face for the last time. "That person is me."

I angrily swiped at the tears trickling down my cheeks. "I choose me."

Then I walked away without looking back.