Hands off his Dudette (Some Girls Do It Book 6) Page 4

  Thanks for yesterday. You were most...

  Most what? Finn wondered.

  He was dying, dying to click on the message, open it, read it. Instead, he switched apps, opening up a search engine.

  "You have a message," he told Anna, before googling the recipe.

  It looked simple enough. "We have all the ingredients," he told her. "I'll make it tomorrow night if you want. We can watch the other two movies and eat Lembas."

  Anna lifted a brow. "You're not going out?"

  He shook his head. He really wasn't in the right headspace to join his college friends and colleagues on a bar hop.

  "And are you going on a date with Nick?" he asked, casually.

  She shook her head. "Yeah, that would be a no. I won't see Nick again."

  Oh.

  "Oh" was the only thought that he could clearly formulate on the matter. He found himself saying it out loud. "Oh?"

  As she added nothing, Finn nudged. "Why?"

  "We didn't click." She didn't seem to care on way or another. "He was rude to our waiter," she added with a little wrinkle of her nose.

  "Dick move. You're better off without him."

  And Finn certainly felt a lot better now he was out of the picture. He smiled.

  "Amelia is setting me up with a doctor from the hospital where she volunteers on Sunday, though. Wren knows him."

  Right. Well, his good humor had certainly been short-lived. Shit, he was going to get emotional whiplash from this conversation.

  "You do know that I already have two big brothers, right?" Anna reminded him. "They got the whole disapproval of my date thing covered."

  "Maybe so," Finn retorted. "But given that one of them is in Europe and the other on the west coast, I'm picking up the slack."

  "Ah!" she exclaimed victoriously. "So you do admit that you're hating this."

  When had he ever tried to deny it?

  "I just don't want things to change between us. You're my..." —his what, exactly? After a moment of reflection, he settled on—"anchor."

  Things could have gotten weird, but it was Anna, so she shrugged, and replied, "And you're mine. My oldest friend. Nothing has to change at all. You date all the time."

  The thing was, he really didn't. "I fuck, Anna. That's different."

  He'd had a girlfriend in college. After a few months, when things had gotten a little more serious however, she'd started making snide comments about Anna, wanting to exclude her from their time together. Finally, she demanded that they stop seeing each other unless she was present.

  "You remember Patricia?" he prompted.

  Anna grimaced. "The wicked witch of Cornell."

  Finn nodded empathically. "Her. What if whoever you date ends up being like her? He might demand you cut me off."

  "Then I'll do what you did with her, and tell him to get the fuck off my porch," she replied with a shrug.

  She made it sound so simple. The truth was, Finn hadn't only dumped Patricia because of what she'd demanded of him; he'd gotten rid of her because of what she'd represented. A change, an era when Anna wouldn't be the first woman in his life.

  Right now, when something—anything, good or bad—happened in his life, she was the first he wanted to tell. If there was an event, a game, a show, that interested him, he wanted to share it with her. So did she. It was inevitable that when she found a partner, he'd be her priority.

  At the back of his mind, he whispered a dangerous suggestion to himself. There was a simple way to avoid that: he just had to be her person, in every way. Her best friend, and her lover—the man she curled up to at night, the man she kissed, and the man who'd give her as many orgasms as she could stand, and more. Her boyfriend. No, he didn't like the term, too light for what they already had. Her partner. Her everything.

  He knew for a fact that if he suggested that right now, she'd slap him and start shouting, with good reason. She'd think he was only propositioning her because he was afraid of losing her. She'd be right.

  In the background, the credits rolled. It was late. They should move, go to bed. But Anna's head was resting on his shoulder, and he wasn't going to disrupt her.

  "You have to get over it, you know? I won't change my mind because you're pouting."

  "I know," was all he said.

  They remained on the sofa a good fifteen minutes after the music stopped and the movie went back to the menu screen. Whatever she said, she wasn't ready to let go any more than he was.

  Chapter 8

  "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!"

  Anna opened her eyes to find Finn with a tray in his hand. As she smelled cinnamon, she immediately forgave him for breaking the laws of weekends and waking her up on a Saturday.

  "What time is it?"

  "Nine."

  She groaned. Since when was he waking up at nine on a weekend, anyway?

  "Why the fuck are you all dressed for?"

  Not that he normally paraded half naked around the house, but he didn't typically put on proper clothes until it was time to go out on a Saturday. Anna had never admitted it to him, but she quite liked his low rise joggers and his checked PJ pants--they did wonderful things for his thick thighs and muscular ass.

  But so did his jeans, so she wasn't complaining.

  "I'm dressed," said Finn, "Because we're going shopping for a sofa first, and then we're looking at houses this afternoon. I figured it might take a while, so we better get started early."

  "We're replacing the sofa?" She didn't think she'd ever gotten out of the bed that fast.

  "You bet your ass we are. Talking of ass, you may want to cover yours."

  Anna looked down to her clothes. She didn't like wearing much to bed; right now she had on one of his T-shirts, and that was it. It did fall to her thighs, but she was still very much naked. The white fabric didn't help.

  She stuck her tongue out. "My room. If you're scared of my ass or titties, don't come in before I'm up."

  Anna grabbed the cinnamon and cappuccino roll on the tray, before heading to her en suite bathroom.

  To her surprise, Finn followed.

  "You know, I was wondering where that T-shirt was. It's comfortable as fuck."

  She laughed. "That, it is. Come on, you should totally have bought two. You should have known I'd steal it."

  "I'll try to remember that. How many clothes of mine would I find in your closet?"

  "Two T-shirts, one hoodie, two pairs of boxers." She was entirely unapologetic. Finn's closet was bigger than hers. If he hadn't noticed sometime in the last few years, he wasn't missing then. "I'm gonna brush my teeth. Talk at me. What places are we visiting?"

  "Two places in TriBeCa, and one penthouse on Madison. That's all the real estate agent could line up on such short notice, but I also want to see a place in Hell's Kitchen. I'll need a mortgage for all of them, except the Hell's Kitchen one, but don't mention it to Trick, or mom. You know what they'd say."

  That he could use his trust, borrow the money from them, or otherwise tap into the Johnson fortune; something Finn refused to do. He already felt bad enough about letting his mother pay for school.

  Anna listened as he described the different places—three to four bedrooms, all had an office and a gym, either in the apartment itself or in the building. When she was done washing her teeth, she said, "You know, if I'm moving in with you, maybe we can buy together. That way, no need for a mortgage. If one of us decides to move, we can buy the other out."

  Finn lifted a surprised brow, and took a few minutes to consider her proposition.

  "Yes. That might work. And maybe it'll be the end of the whole nonsense where you don't tell me you want new furniture."

  She laughed. "If it had been your place and not your mom's, you bet your ass I would have told you to change that atrocity years ago."

  "Why, I'm glad to hear it."

  "Good. Now, I'm going to take a shower, so unless you wanna watch, you better get out of here."

  She didn't know what she'd
expected; laughter, probably. Instead, Finn's eyes scanned her from her eyes to her toes, quite slowly, and then back up. He smiled. "An interesting suggestion. I might take you up on it another time, but I fear that might somewhat delay our shopping trip."

  Her jaw fell open. He turned his back and left before she regained enough sense to ask what the fuck that had been all about.

  "Thank fuck I woke you up early," Finn said.

  They'd been in the furniture shop for about two hours, and they weren't even nearly done, because Anna was trying every sofa she liked the look of. No way were they buying something that looked nice and felt like a torture device.

  "You know, it's a little silly to buy a sofa now, if we're going to move shortly," she said, somewhat reluctantly. "Wouldn't it make sense to match the sofa to whatever decor we have in the new place?"

  "Or we can match whatever decor we have in our new place to the sofa. The very notion of getting rid of Mom's sofa is making you smile like a crazy person. We're doing it."

  She beamed. Finn was the best.

  "This one is pretty great. Come, sit."

  He did as he was told, taking a seat next to her. "Not bad. But you're not properly giving it a go. You never sit like that. Go on, try your head against the armrest."

  Anna laid her upper body down on the sofa, and moaned in delight. "Yes. This is a winner."

  "There's one thing to consider."

  She sat up, ready to pout and protest if he was vetoing the best sofa in the entire store. It was a large three seater, bright blue with low armrests and removable cushions. Modern, simple, very well designed.

  "What?"

  "You're always babbling about having a dog. Mom might be allergic to it, but you can definitely get one in our one place. The question is, do we want a velvet sofa if we're going to get a puppy at some point? Wet dog and fabric don't mix. Maybe leather would be smarter."

  She was too busy gaping at him with her eyes wide and her hand flapping at her side, while chanting, "Oh my God!" on repeat, to answer. Finally, she yelled. "Puppy!"

  Finn shrugged. "Why not?"

  Why not, indeed. She jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him hard.

  It wasn't the first or last time that she'd done so. In fact, a month scarcely passed without her having a cause to hug Finn. But something felt very strange about this particular hug. She felt her heart beating a little too fast; his, too. Finn chuckled and Anna let go, feeling self-conscious.

  "I know we're busy but between you and me, I'm sure we can take care of a dog properly. There's also day walkers everywhere in the city."

  "Carter allows dogs at work, as long as they're well-trained," Anna said. "This is literally the best day ever. A sofa and a puppy."

  "Well, we need to find a place, first."

  "Of course. But I can't stand leather, it's sticky and uncomfortable and stuff. Maybe we can teach the puppy to stay off the sofa?"

  Finn snorted. "Yeah, right."

  Anna was still grinning like a fool when a store assistant accosted them.

  "Man I help you?"

  "Yes, please," she replied. "We need to order one of those to be delivered."

  "Of course, if you would follow me."

  They headed to his counter, where he informed them of the price.

  "For an extra three hundred, we can protect and insure the sofa. It may be useful if you have young children."

  The guy was taking them for a couple, she realized.

  "Or a dog," Finn added with a grin. "Add the protection, please."

  He had his wallet out already. Anna frowned. "Hey, that's on me, I'm the fussy one who wanted a new sofa."

  Finn shook his head. "It's going in my mother's house."

  "And in ours, next," she reminded him.

  "Fine. We can go dutch if you insist. Or, you can let me pay for it, and get the next piece of furniture."

  A reasonable alternative. She accepted it, Finn paid, and they got out of the store.

  "We have a couple of hours until we need to head to TriBeCa. Lunch?" Finn offered.

  They were seated in a beautiful modern restaurant at the top of a skyscraper, and toasting with champagne when Anna realized something very strange.

  This really did feel like a date.

  Chapter 9

  The first apartment in TriBeCa was a little small for his taste, but clean and modern; a refreshing change from the stuffy Johnson home.

  "What do you think?" the estate agent asked enthusiastically, as she walked them to the second place they were viewing that day.

  "I liked it," said Anna cautiously. "But I can't say I loved it. You?"

  "Same. Plus there's no room for you to do yoga, unless we convert the third bedroom. The lounge and office are too small."

  The second apartment was a little more expensive, considerably better inside, but Anna had grimaced as soon as they'd seen the building, a contemporary red brick and metal box. It looked like an office building.

  Finn was reconciled with it by the time they reached the large open plan kitchen, and Anna was impressed by the master en suite.

  At the end, Finn declared, "It won't do."

  Anna nodded. "The master is nice and large but neither of the other bedrooms are big enough."

  The estate agent wasn't discouraged. "You're going to love the next one," she said confidently on the cab to the Upper East Side.

  Finn and Anna exchanged a glanced, rolling their eyes. The woman had been overly enthusiastic for the last two hours.

  Turned out, she was right, of course. They should have expected it. At twice the price of the TriBeCa place, the three bedroom penthouse atop an elegant high-rise was beautiful and luxurious.

  While the master was nothing short of magnificent, the two other bedrooms were just as splendid, bathing in sunlight with floor-to-ceiling windows and thick curtains.

  Anna bit her lip. "It's expensive," she whispered.

  It was. "Twice the price tag of the others...and ten times the value."

  The estate agent caught that. "Yes, while the market is still very expensive in the city, luxury apartments are still on the decline. This one has been on the market for two years. The owners have finally lowered the price this week."

  In other words, it wouldn't stay on the market too long now.

  Finn sighed. "I have a little under half. You?"

  "Just over."

  He wasn't surprised; as the head of the department, Anna earned as much as him, and rarely had cause to use it.

  "So, we might be able to swing it?"

  "Marvelous!" The estate agent smiled.

  "We need to talk the details though. We'll email you if we want to put an offer through," Finn told her.

  "Of course, of course. Oh, and just so you know, the agency is waiving their buyer fees this December, so if you were to purchase the house before the end of the year, you'd save about three percent."

  And they certainly would need to consider their pennies after they wiped out their entire saving accounts.

  Finn and Anna were almost silent on the ride home.

  "I mean, it's a lot of money," Anna finally said as they walked in.

  "And we've only seen three places..."

  "We should look into it. The neighborhood, the building itself..."

  They headed to the kitchen and Finn pulled two beers out of the fridge.

  "The price went down this week."

  "I really liked the freestanding bath with the lion feet."

  "All the bathrooms were a dream. Marble."

  "The cast iron sink..." Anna recalled longingly.

  This was their process, laying down the good and bad every time they were making a decision.

  "It's just a little fast, don't you think? I mean, we only talked about moving yesterday. Putting an offer today would just be rash."

  "I don't know. I've thought about moving for a while—saved for it. So have you. In all honesty, we both could have bought something chea
per a long time ago. I feel like we were probably just comfortable here, but moving, buying our own place...that's a step forward. A grown-up thing."

  As he stopped talking, Finn applied his reasoning to a very different situation. Their relationship. Was that what they'd been doing? Staying in a comfortable status quo? He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.

  "You get the computer, I'll call takeout."

  They spent the next hour researching property around Madison, recently sold and on the market, as well as similar properties in Manhattan. While many were beautiful, none had as much character as the apartment they'd just visited, according to the pictures online, and the price was more than fair.

  "All right, you type up an offer. You're better at that," said Anna.

  After he'd emailed the agent, Finn got started on the Lembas bread from an online recipe while Anna prepared the movie.

  Something felt very different tonight. They were going to move in together, in their home. Hers and his. Strange notions skirted around Finn's thought. Images he couldn't get out of his minds. Anna's lips. Anna in his T-shirt that dwarfed her, her long legs around his waist. Anna, gasping, moaning, begging, scratching his back.

  Fuck.

  The takeout arrived at the start of the movie and they had Lembas for dessert.

  "Why the hell is that the first time I'm making those!" Finn yelled, before devouring his seventh piece.

  "It's like shortbread, but fluffier and with honey." Anna sighed in delight. "I trust you realize I'm going to need a regular dose."

  "Maybe you should learn to make them, then."

  Anna pouted. She always shut down at the thought of taking one step in the kitchen. He didn't really mind, cooking was rather therapeutic to him.

  "Oh, shush, I promise to make them, and often. Now tell me, what do you think about the lounge?"

  "At Madison? Huge, and gorgeous, and I'm loving the fireplace."

  "Yes, but what do you want to do with it?"

  The walls had been white and the display furniture, impersonal.

  "Well, we'll have the light blue sofa, won't we? So how about blue and...gold gray? We could have a regal theme."