This makes me laugh. Finn the Invincible has a wittle hangover? “You’re too old to say that now.”

“Practically middle-aged,” he agrees. “Might as well skip out and go get a beer for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I make a point of lifting his wrist and looking at his giant, manly waterproof watch. “It’s almost eleven.”

“I was a little slow to start this morning. Late night,” he growls, smiling darkly. When he looks at me like that, I immediately recall the way he slid his fingers over and inside me—God, when did your pussy get so sweet?—the way his breath warmed my neck. I remember the feel of his hungry mouth sucking at my neck, my shoulders, the hard press of him through his jeans between my legs.

And then he left. And I nearly screamed in sexual frustration.

It shouldn’t feel so easy with him today. Why does it feel so easy?

After a quiet pause, he asks, “Did you get home okay?”

I look past him, my head swimming a little with the jarring transition in mental images his question brings. Bellamy was still up when I tripped in at nearly two in the morning. I found her sitting in the kitchen, staring blankly at the space in front of her. I went out. I tried to just... have a good night, she’d said. But I felt sort of like a bobblehead. Disjointed, you know? And now I can’t sleep.

I felt immediately guilty for going out and forgetting everything in the middle of Lola’s kitchen, and with Finn of all people. But Mom kicked me out again after breakfast this morning, telling me she hadn’t seen me indoors on a Saturday since I was an infant and I wasn’t allowed to miss Oliver’s grand opening.

“I slept in Lola’s bed for a little bit, then took a cab,” I tell Finn, giving him a pointed look. “It’s what I do after we hook up, apparently.”

“Right.” He doesn’t seem to think I’m as funny as I do.

When he looks over my shoulder at the store beyond, I take the opportunity to check him out. I can’t find a single flaw with the man’s body, and I’m woman enough to admit that I’m completely obsessed with his forearms. They’re roped, thick, every single muscle defined. I want to see him haul a big net onto the deck of his ship. God, he would make majestic fisherman porn.

“What are you thinking?” he asks and I blink up to his face.