Chapter 31

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gia

 

“Finn,” I start, looking over at him as he sits on my sofa in front of my television, my remote poised in his hand. “I know I said I was cool with you picking the movie, but I take that back now.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, which is sort of exasperating if I’m being honest.

“No, seriously. I cannot watch Clown. Clowns scare the ever-loving crap out of me under the best of circumstances. Even when they’re meant to be funny. This movie is not funny, Finn.”

Finally, he glances in my direction, but he’s still all somber and brooding. “That’s the point, Gia. It’s a scary movie.”

I shake my head. “That’s all well and good, but that doesn’t mean I want to have nightmares like a fucking ten-year-old over it. Pick something else. Like The Shining or Scream or Nightmare on Elm Street. Something I’ve seen a dozen times and falls more within the realm of cult classic rather than Gia Bianchi torture device.”

“Is the food ready yet?”

I sigh. Why did I invite him over? Why didn’t I just let him sit in that bar and stew?

“You’re not eating any of my delicious leftovers until you change the movie. I’m one hundred percent serious. If I have to, I’ll kick your ass out over it.”

He’s doing his best not to laugh, but I’m actually not kidding. “Fine. I’ll change it. But you do realize now that I know your weakness is clowns I can exploit it for my own personal enjoyment.”

I pause, standing there and staring at him with wide eyes, one hand on my hip the other pointing a stern finger at him. “You’re not just an asshole, Finnigan Banner. You’re a sadistic asshole. What the hell kind of thing is that to say?”

He sighs, leaning back in my couch and scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “Yeah. Sorry. That was pretty fucked up of me. Maybe I should just go. Clearly I’m not in the right frame of mind to be around humans at the moment.”

“Okay,” I soften because I feel sort of bad for him. Clearly something is eating at him. “Put on Young Frankenstein because that movie is freaking hilarious. We’re going to eat amazing food, followed by apple pie.” He stares at me. Watches me. “With ice cream and whipped cream. And wine. I have a bottle of expensive wine which my cousin bought me. And you’re going to chill the fuck out.”

Finn stands up, the motion so quick and unexpected that I start. He strides over until he’s crowding me. He always crowds me. Personal space isn’t something he abides by. At least with me. “Why do you bother?”

I furrow my eyebrows, craning my neck so I can see him better. “What do you mean?”

“Explain it to me. What do you get out of this?” He waves his finger back and forth between us.

I have no answer to give him. We’ve already had this conversation. We’re mutually addicted to the other, but I don’t think that’s where he’s going right now. I think he’s hit his limit.

“You have a boyfriend. You have a life. I’m an asshole. You said so yourself. So tell me why you brought me here.”

“I don’t know,” I admit, stumbling over my thoughts a bit. “You are an asshole. And sometimes you irritate me to no end. And occasionally you’re too honest without being honest at all. But I care about you, okay? I do. So now it’s your turn. What do you get out of this?” I wave my finger back and forth between us the way he just did.

“Personal suffering and torment.”

I take a step back, because holy crap, that hurt. “You texted me to come hang out. Why would you do that if I’m so insufferable?”

Finn grabs my face, drawing me closer, and tilting my head until his eyes bore into mine. “How can you think that? How can you can take those words and twist them into something they’re not? I can’t tell if you’re intentionally being obtuse or if you really don’t know.”

I try to pry my face away from him, but to no avail. Finn has me in his grip and he’s got a point to make which he’s going to force me to hear. Whether I want to or not. He dips his head down until our eyes are locked and our faces are inches apart.

“I love you, Gia. I’m in love with you. It’s why I seek you out. It’s why I ask about your stupid boyfriend who is nowhere near good enough for you. It’s why I kill myself day and in day out. I don’t know how not to. I don’t know how to let you go. And sometimes, I get to the point where it’s too much. Like today. Everything is too much. I fucking love you and it’s the last thing in the world I want to do.”

I don’t understand. If he loves me the way he says he does then why doesn’t he want to love me? Especially when I want it so badly. “Then why–”

“Because I won’t do it again!” he yells with so much force and conviction, I’m momentarily stunned.

What happened to you, Finn?

I shake my head in his hands, my eyes welling up the longer I gaze into his bright-blue eyes. This man loves me. But the thought of loving someone, of being with someone, pains him. Physically pains him. I can feel that pain leaching from him now. Rolling off him in waves.

Finn releases my face, turns, but instead of leaving the way I expect him to, he storms over to my window and slams the side of his fist into it, rattling the pane. Then he spins back around and drops to the floor. “Finn?” I call out.

No answer.

Because he’s not there.

Finn is on the floor between my window and my couch. His knees are drawn up to his chest and his face is in his hands. And he’s broken. Absolutely tortured. Just the way he said he was.

What happened to you, Finn?

I don’t ask my question out loud and I don’t flee into my bedroom the way my body is begging me to. Instead I slowly move across the room and drop down to my knees in front of him. My hands land on his knees and he jerks away. “Finn?” I say softly this time.

He shakes his head. His eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Gia. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

That’s all he says, but I think he believes that covers everything. All of the hurt he’s about to give me.

He shakes his head again and then he laughs out humorlessly. “What the fuck? It’s not even like you’re the first one. I wasn’t like this before.” His eyes open and then they focus on mine. “What is it about you which makes you so goddamn special? Just go away, Gia. Cut me loose already.”

I have no words. Only tears.

What did she do to you, Finn?

“I’m not leaving you,” I tell him.

His eyes widen in horror. Then he smiles, but it’s not a real smile. It’s a Finn smile, I realize. “We’ll see.”

“Why did you come out there, then? Why did you come after me, if this is all there can ever be?”

I don’t even know if I’m talking about that first time on the curb outside of the ED when my father died or that night on the balcony or the first night he brought me espresso-coffee or all those other times. We’ve had so many times. And yeah, some of them have been hard. Some of them have been downright awful.

But we’ve had so many good ones too. Some of the most memorable in my life. Finn makes me feel…hell, he just makes me feel. The good and the bad. The ugly and the beautiful. He gives as much as he takes, but what he gives is everything I need.

“Self-destruction and blind jealousy.”

My head drops, my chin hitting my chest as I cry. I’ve never cried like this before. Never felt this sort of raw, vulnerable emotion. Never this sort of heartbreak. I’ve been waiting for this moment with Finn Banner for so long. And he didn’t disappoint.

If he’s not careful, he’s going to get exactly what he wants from me.

“Is this what you want?” I sob.

“Not even close.”

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“I don’t deserve it anyway.”

“Oh god,” I wail.      
      His arms wrap around my body in a flash, and I topple backward against the force of his weight, his hand cupping the back of my head so I don’t bash it against the hardwoods. His mouth is everywhere. My lips. My cheeks. My eyes. My nose. My ears. “I’m sorry,” he says. “So fucking sorry.”

I shake my head against him, wishing I were stronger. Strong enough to get up and force him out.

“I don’t deserve you, but I want you, Gia. Want really doesn’t even begin to describe my level of obsession.”      

I don’t know how to do this.

“You can’t do this to me again. Tell me you want me and you love me and then push me away.”

“I panicked, Gia. I always panic with you. Everything is a gut reaction.”

“No,” I shake my head, my eyes still closed. “This was so much more than panicking.”

I feel him pause over me and I risk opening my eyes. His bright-blue ones are inches from mine, but they’re utterly defenseless. Beaten. “I love you,” he says it so calmly I wonder if I imagined everything that just happened between us. “I can’t make sense of anything other than that. But I can’t give you what you need. I can only give you this.”

His lips crash down on mine and then he kisses me with a force unlike any before it. His tongue invades my mouth and his hands occupy my hair and his soul dominates everything inside of me. But even as he kisses me, I feel how wrong this is to him. How conflicted and ill he is.

I am not this girl. It’s why I didn’t sleep with him the night of my birthday. I won’t let myself fall victim to that level of hurt.

I push him back.

“That’s not enough for me. I want more than this.”

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything else.

I need to leave him. I need to scour the depths of my ravaged soul, pull myself up and off this floor and never look back. But I can’t do that. Because I feel like there is so much more here. So much more to him and if he walks away now, I’ll never know just how good it can be.

“Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me what happened to you.”

His expression is beyond shattered. But he doesn’t answer me.

I scoot my body out from under his, yanking down the hem of my shirt as I go. I feel way too exposed right now. Clamping my legs shut, I twist them so that my knees are sideways on the floor and I’m sitting up facing him.

I stare at him. Pleading with him to open up to me.

More silence.

“See you around, Finn.”

Standing up, I turn and walk toward my bedroom door. He doesn’t come after me. He doesn’t say anything to stop me. I pause on the threshold. Count to three.

Nothing.

Come after me, Finn.

He doesn’t. So I open the door, walk through and shut it behind me, pressing my body against the cool wood.

Still nothing.

Come on, Finn.

He doesn’t. He lets me hide away in my bedroom.

Why did he have to do this?

The front door to my apartment opens and shuts and I slide down, my head hitting my knees as I let go. I cry. I cry for him and I cry for me and I cry for us. Because I see all the beautiful potential he just let go. And all he sees is ugly pain.