I could stare at him all night long, admiring the way the colors swirled over his hard muscles the whole time. His tattoos were perfect to me, but he seemed to think there was something wrong with them.
The fact that he thought he wasn’t good enough for me and my father made my throat tighten. Would I ever be able to convince him I loved him exactly how he was, not as a version of what he could be? That I didn’t want him to change at all?
Once I had on one of his green Hollister shirts and a pair of panties, I headed for the closet. His uniforms stared back at me, and I swear the things were alive. Like they were watching me. I was trying to act all confident about this whole possible deployment mess, but the truth was…I was scared, too.
He lifted on his elbows and watched me from the bed, his steamy eyes on me the whole time. I wanted nothing more in this world than to climb on top of him again and curl up in his arms. There was nothing in this world that his arms around me couldn’t fix.
I picked up my bag and took out one of my shirts, hanging it up on the hanger. It meant a lot to me, him offering me this space in his life and his key. It was almost as if, when he was gone, I’d get to be here with him—even without him.
It didn’t make much sense, yet it totally did.
And I liked the idea of sleeping in his bed when he wasn’t here. Smelling him on his sheets. But how long would the scent of Finn linger if he left? A day? A month? I had no freaking clue, but I did know one thing: I needed to spend as much time as possible with him.
I put a shirt on the hanger and gathered by thoughts. My phone rang from beside Finn on the bed. He glanced down at it and his mouth tightened. He picked it up and held it out to me. “It’s your father. He still isn’t texting me like he used to, so be careful what you say. Try to get intel from him.”
I nodded, crossed the room, and sat at his hip. After taking my phone out of his hand, I said, “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello,” Dad said, his voice clear and crisp. “Where are you?”
“You’re up late.” I checked the time, ignoring his question. It was almost midnight back home. Finn toyed with my hair, sending little shivers down my spine. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping by now? And why have you been so quiet this week?”
“I told you I’d be busy,” he said. “My turn for a question. Shouldn’t you be in your room?”
I tensed, and so did Finn. He must’ve heard Dad’s voice through the speaker. He dropped my hair and rolled off the bed. After grabbing his own phone, he swiped his finger across the screen. I raised my brows at him and he shook his head with a frown. He hadn’t gotten any texts from my father asking where I was.
What was Dad up to, and what did it mean for us?
“Uh…” I forced myself to pay attention to Dad. “What makes you think I’m not in my room? Did you put a webcam up in it or something? I’m pretty sure I forbade cameras in my bedroom once I hit puberty.”
He snorted. “Don’t play coy with me, missy. I’m here, at your dorm, with your mother—and you’re not here. Where are you?”
“Wait, what?” I leapt to my feet, my pulse racing and my knees trembling. “Why are you here in San Diego?”
Finn cursed under his breath and dialed someone. He grabbed his pants off the floor and stepped into them without boxers, his movements jerky and fast. I picked up my own pants, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder.
Dad sighed. “We wanted to surprise you with a visit. We barely hear from you anymore, and your mother was worried. But all I really care about right now is where the hell—”
“Hugh.” There was a commotion, something that sounded like a fight, and then Mom’s voice came through. “Don’t mind him. We know you’re an adult now and you’re out with friends. We missed you, dear. Where are you? We could come there to meet you and your friends.”
“No.” I shot Finn a desperate look, and he stepped into his motorcycle boots without a word. “I’ll come to you. Just give me, like…?” I shot Finn a look and he held up his hand. “…five minutes, and I’ll be there.”
Mom sighed. “All right. I’ll hold off your father. But hurry up, dear. I need a Carrie hug.”
My heart wrenched with a bit of homesickness, despite the stress of the situation. That’s what Mom called it when I hugged her as tight as I could. When I was a kid, every night she would pick me up and I would cling to her, all arms and legs and giggles, giving her the biggest good night hug I could.
When she let go and I stayed in place without her support, I would giggle harder—until I lost my grip and fell to the bed. Now I was too big to hang off her, but we still called our hugs Carrie hugs. “I’ll hurry, I promise.”
“Give me the phone, Margie.”
“No.”
“Give me the—” Another commotion. “And you’ll be telling me who you were with,” Dad called out. “Missy.”
I could just picture him, pushing in to Mom to get another word in. Finn furiously typed something on his phone. Probably texting my dad in an attempt to cover both our asses before it was too late. Before Finn came under suspicion.
“Oh, leave her alone,” Mom said. “See you soon.”
“Bye,” I said, hanging up. I looked at Finn. “What the heck are they doing here?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue. I didn’t know they were coming,” Finn said, grabbing his keys and heading for the door with large, hurried steps. “Why didn’t he tell me he was coming? This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.”
I followed him to the door, swallowing hard. Half my clothes were hung up in his closet and the other half were on his bed. I grabbed my empty bag. “I’ll clean these up and then—”
Finn waved a hand and made an impatient sound. “Leave them. There’s no time for that. We have to leave, and we have to leave yesterday.”
I hesitated. “It’ll be a little rough for a while, I get that, but why are you so upset?”
“Because I’m wondering why the fuck he didn’t tell me he was coming, why the hell he hasn’t texted me during the past two days, and why, even now, there’s no text from him.” His phone chimed, and he closed his eyes, his jaw ticking. “There it is.”
He took his phone out of his pocket and opened the door for me. He scanned it and typed, while I tried to hold on to my patience. “What does it say?”
“He wants to know where you are.” More typing. “I’m telling him you went out to eat with a new friend. Give me the name of someone you talk to in class. Someone new?”
I scrambled for the first name that came to mind. My lab partner I’d studied with the other day popped into my head. “Susan Williams.”
“Good. He won’t be able to locate her that quickly, so she’s a good cover story. Your dad didn’t tell me he’s here in California, though.” More typing, then he lifted his head. “Keep walking, Ginger. I can text and walk.”
I clenched my fists. “I don’t like this.”
He didn’t look up, just kept typing. “Don’t like what?”
“You’re acting different,” I said, my voice cracking. “Again.”
He’d barely looked at me at all since the phone call, and now he was acting cold. Distant. It freaked me out. Was he regretting the fact that he had me in his house when his boss came to visit? Kicking himself for being with me?
I didn’t know, but I knew something was off.
He looked at me, his eyes as closed off as his voice. “Of course I am. I’m trying to cover our tracks. Your daddy’s out there, thinking God knows what, doing God knows what, and I need to get you there without him knowing where the fuck you were. This is me in work mode, Ginger.”