𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

Chapter 27

Millie

Lips ghost across my skin. It's dark—I think. I know there's a blanket over me. A hard body against me and that uniquely Finn scent.

Finn.

The evening comes back to me. Our fight, my panic attack. Him taking care of me. Again.

My muscles go rigid. I'm half mad at him for how he acted and half mad at myself for needing him. I shouldn't need him or anyone...though is it okay to lean? I don't know, especially since I don't know how he feels.

Little flashes blip through my mind. Did I tell him I love him? I think I did. Or maybe I just said the words in my head. My pulse starts going crazy.

"Tiny Dancer..." Finn whispers in my ear. I smile at the name. His hand finds its way under my shirt as he brushes his thumb back and forth on my belly.

Smile or not, I don't reply, hoping he'll think I'm still asleep. Maybe I didn't say them. We need to talk. I know it, but there's so much going on in my head—in our lives, that I don't even know where to start. All I know is I have questions for him, but I'm not sure I'm ready to answer any.

"Is this what guys talk about when their girl pretends to sleep because she's not in the mood for sex? I promise, you'll enjoy yourself."

This makes me chuckle, which I realize was his point. Who is this man and how do I know him so well? When did it happen and how can someone be so much more than you ever thought they could be?

We're both quiet for a minute. I hear the wheels turning in his head, matching the beat to the ones in mine. We have his mom to discuss, and jail, freak outs, and my possible half-asleep confession. Why the hell can't it be easy?

"Sounds like the party died down," I say, thinking it's the safest thing to talk about. There's no music pounding through the walls anymore.

"I'm an asshole," is Finn's reply. And he is...but he isn't at the same time.

His hand is still under my shirt, his lips press against my neck. I think it's easier this way—our darkness like he said. Easier to hide and easier for us to come clean in these shadows too.

"You are...but I understand. You were just protecting your mom."

"No." Finn rolls to his back. I follow, lying on my side with my arm around him. We're fully dressed, except for our shoes.

"I was being an asshole to her. I was protecting myself. It shouldn't have been a big deal to get her a fucking tattoo."

"Why—"

"—Because it's final." His hand tightens, nails biting into my skin. I can't help but wonder if that means I do something for him too. If somehow I help him the way he helps me.

"I'm sorry."

Words are so ridiculous sometimes. They don't really mean anything, but they're all I have.

"You have to know she did it because she loves you though. And no matter what, she knows how much you love her."

More silence. His grip has loosened slightly, his thumb moving again. With each swipe I feel closer to him, which I know makes no sense, but it's true.

"I need to make it up to her... My head was just all fucked up. We had this crazy talk and I was all over the place. Then I got pulled over. Got searched. Went to jail. So you were taking care of her while I was locked up. I felt like shit and I took it out on you."

His words knock me for a loop. Yes, Finn is always honest. He doesn't hold back, but usually that's when he's being a jerk, not opening up. I never expected to hear these words from him. Don't know what to think about them. All I do know is they make my heart expand. They're the blood pumping life into that vital organ because somehow I know it's because it's me. He feels comfortable baring himself to me.