Like Gravity (16 page)

“Don’t suppose you want to get pancakes with me?” he asked, a knowing smile playing out across his face.

“
No!” I blurted, my fast response a dead giveaway of my horror at the suggestion of such a date-like activity. “I mean, I have errands to run,” I muttered, more subdued.

“
Right
,” he said, lips curled up in a sexy dark smirk. I wanted to pounce on him and punch him at the same time. He was fully aware of the effect he had on me. He was tying me up in knots – and he was enjoying it, the smug bastard. “I’ll just go enjoy my pancakes alone, then. See you in a few hours.” He winked, then turned and walked into Maria’s, leaving me hungry for more than just breakfast. I slumped back against Lexi’s car, drained from the interaction.

C
rap.

I shakily loaded the paint cans into the trunk and got behind the wheel. Taking a steadying breath, I determined not to let
Finn get under my skin. Maybe I’d let him under my panties later, though.

Damn, I’m such a slut.

I felt like an emotional yo-yo, rejecting Finn one minute and kissing him the next. I wanted to slap some sense into myself.  Instead, I did what I did best and pushed the thoughts from my mind. Starting the engine, I pulled onto Main Street and headed across town to the grocery store. I had to pick up some things to make dinners for the week, refill my birth control prescription at the pharmacy, and make it back to the photo store to pick up my prints all before Finn got to my apartment at two.

A glance at the clock on the dashboard informed me that it was already past noon. I stepped on the gas pedal,
speeding Lexi’s car through several yellow lights in my haste. I did
not
want him to beat me to the house. Something told me that having Finn Chambers unsupervised in my bedroom wasn’t a good idea.

***

I was steering my cart down the aisle of the grocery store, gathering items for the week, when my cellphone rang.

“Hello?”

The only answer I received was in the form of heavy, disturbing breathing.

“Stop. Calling. Me.” I growled into the phone. “
Is this Gordon?”

More breathing.

“I don’t know who the hell this is, but if you keep doing this I will call the police. Got it, sicko?”

The breathing stopped for a minute and I thought the line had gone dead
, but a quick glance at the screen showed it was still connected. Just before I hung up, I heard what sounded like faint laughter from the other line.

It wasn’t the
gleeful laughter of a twelve year-old prankster with nothing better to do for amusement; it was a sinister laugh, menacing and full of dark promise. The laugh of a man I didn’t know and definitely did not want to know.

I disconnected the call and stood frozen in the middle of the grocery store. This was the second call I’d received. Then there was the deadly flower arrangement that had been delivered
to my room. Could they be connected? Who wanted to scare me this much? It could be Gordon, but I doubted he would take things this far. And he probably didn’t possess enough brainpower to break into my apartment without leaving any traces behind.

I placed a quick call to the police station, asking for Officer Carlson.
When he answered, he halfheartedly assured me that while they had done everything in their power to discover who’d dropped off the flowers, they had no answers for me at this time. After telling me to take extra precautions in locking my doors and windows, and to call if any more suspicious deliveries appeared, he hung up. I’d considered telling him about the phone calls, but quickly decided against it. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do to help; I somehow doubted that the paunchy, doughnut-loving officer had ever solved a case in his career.

I didn’t want to think about my phone stalker right now. I had enough on my mind, what with the dead-sexy man arriving at my house in – I glanced at my cellphone – less than an hour.

Crap!

Phone call forgotten,
I rushed to the front of the store, paid for my groceries, and was on my way to the pharmacy within minutes. Grabbing my prescription, I headed to the photo store which was, thankfully, located in the same plaza. My photos were ready, and they looked perfect. I’d had them enlarged onto big 24x36 inch canvases that would adorn my newly painted walls. I thanked the shop owner countless times before paying and lugging the three large photo canvases to the car, where I laid them gently in the backseat. Smiling, I raced home, eager to beat Finn there and start redecorating.

Though it was well into the afternoon by the time I’d gotten all of the food put away, Lexi was still sleeping soundly in her room.
I wasn’t surprised. If napping were a sport, that girl would take home Olympic gold every time.

I lugged both cans of paint and all three blown-up photos i
nto my bedroom and cast an assessing glance around the room. The only pieces of furniture were my desk, chair, bedside table, and bedframe. I struggled to maneuver the heavy oak desk into the hallway for several minutes until Lexi appeared in my doorway, coffee mug in hand and eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her gaze moving from the displaced furniture to the cans of paint.

“I’m redecorating.”

She stared at me like I’d said I was planning to tattoo a swastika on my forehead and join a cult
that worshipped Cabbage Patch dolls. “Excuse me? I must have misheard you. I thought you just said that you, Brooklyn Turner, were redecorating your room. The same girl who told me that I was forbidden, on pain of death, from putting up wallpaper and cute decorations in the living room.”

I rolled my eyes. “You were going to
paste a wall-quote that said
Live, Laugh, Love
in magenta, five foot tall lettering across the wall over our couch. You seriously didn’t anticipate me vetoing that idea?”

She harrumphed in frustration, taking another sip of her coffee and realizing she wasn’t going to win this argument.

“So how was your night with the Ken doll?” she asked, switching gears. “Was it everything you dreamed of and more?” She snorted into her mug.

“Sarcasm is
so
not your strong suit, Lex,” I said, smiling. I turned back to the desk and began yanking it toward the door once more. “And actually, nothing happened with Landon. I walked home.”

“What?” she exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice. “Why the change of heart?”

I sighed. “Are you going to help me move this desk?”

“Only if you tell me what happened with Landon.”

“Bitch,” I muttered. “Fine. I just wasn’t into it, okay? He was hot, but I couldn’t clear my mind enough to enjoy it.”

“Clear your mind of what? Or, should I be asking
of who
?” she pressed.

I
spun around to glare at her. “Before you even start, this has nothing to do with Finn,” I lied.

“Oh, you are so full of shit! Brooklyn Turner has a crush! I can’t freaking believe this!” She squealed, dancing into my bedroom and slinging an arm over my shoulder. “
I’ve been waiting
years
for this to happen. And this is perfect! I’ve always dreamed of us dating best friends! Ohmigod! We should all go to this party tomor—”

“LEXI
!” I yelled, cutting her off before she could start planning our double wedding, thus inducing one of my panic attacks. “There is nothing going on between Finn and I. We’re friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S,” I spelled out emphatically, hoping she’d listen to me for once.

“You let all your
friends
pin you against the side of their truck and kiss you like that?” Finn’s deep voice asked from the doorway.

God dammit.
Was the man incapable of just announcing his presence like a normal person?

I groaned.

Lexi spun around, spied him leaning casually in the doorway, and squealed happily. I think she actually may have started jumping up and down in delight, but I was too busy looking around for a rope to hang myself with to be sure. The small digital clock on my desk read 2:05 – he was right on time, so I couldn’t even be mad at him for eavesdropping.

“You bitch! I can’t believe you were selling me that
‘just friends’ bullshit!” she smacked my arm and glared down at me.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” I snapped, ignoring Lexi and blasting an icy
stare in Finn’s direction.

“I
did
knock. No one answered,” he said, glaring back at me. His voice was calm but his eyes were stormy as they pierced mine.

Nope, he definitely wasn’t happy about my ‘just friends’ comment.

“You. Me. Details. Later,” Lexi demanded, still glaring at me. Turning to Finn, a sunny smile crossed her face and she sighed. “Be patient with her. She’s emotionally retarded.”

I let out a mortified
groan and Finn tried – and failed – to hold in his laughter as Lexi wandered into the hallway and disappeared. When she was gone, a thick silence descended on the room. A charge seemed to build in the air as Finn and I stared at each other, the laughter dying slowly from his eyes. He took a step toward me into the room and I immediately stepped back, maintaining the space between us. A dark look crossed his face and his eyes narrowed.

Striding across the room, he was in front of me in seconds. I’d backed up until I was flush with the wall, with nowhere further to retreat, and he immediately caged me in with his arms.

“Let’s get something straight,” he whispered, tone dark with something possessive and slightly scary. “We are
not
just friends. We have never and will never
be just friends. So stop twisting this around in that head of yours and making it into something it’s not.”

“You said nothing had to change,” I said defiantly, unwilling to accept his words.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you. You’ve always wanted to fuck me. Nothing’s changed as far as I can tell,” he said, a smug smile crossing his face.

“I don’t want to fuck you! You are the cockiest, most conceited, arrogant asshole I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man left on earth and we were
singlehandedly responsible for repopulating the plan—” My tirade was abruptly cut off as his mouth descended on mine.

I responded to his kiss instantly, eagerly, in complete contradiction
to my words.

Fu
ck! What was I doing?

I
reeled back and before I could stop myself, my hand shot out and slapped him across the face. I froze, stunned at my own actions. It was like my hand had acted independently of my brain. My face was a mask of shock, my eyes saucer-wide as I stared at the blooming crimson mark on his cheekbone. I hadn’t intended to hit him; I’d just been so desperate to put a stop to the kiss – to take back some control.

B
reathing hard, I was still mere inches from Finn’s face. He looked equally surprised, but his face quickly morphed into something darker. “Just for that, I’m going to make you beg for it before I’ll kiss you again,” he vowed, rubbing a hand back and forth along his cheek.

“You’re going to be waiting forever.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he said, a small smile turning up the corner of his mouth. I suddenly remembered another conversation we’d had, after he’d saved me from Gordon, when I’d told him he’d be waiting forever for answers about my past. He’d simply looked over at me and whispered,
‘I’ve already been waiting my whole life.’

I still didn’t know what that meant.

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” I murmured, lifting a hand to trace the red splotch on his cheek. His hand came up to cover mine, holding it gently against his face. “I really am emotionally-challenged sometimes,” I reluctantly admitted.

“
Sometimes?” Finn lifted a skeptical eyebrow at me.

“Okay, fine, all the time,” I grumbled. “Can we paint now?”

“Sure,” he agreed, stepping out of my space. As I walked around him to reach the desk, I lifted up on my tiptoes and uncharacteristically pressed a soft kiss to the angry red handprint on his cheek. I felt him smile as I pulled away and began tugging on the desk.

Thankfully,
Finn was a lot stronger than me, and he made quick work of moving all my furniture out into the hall. My bed was too big to move, so we pushed it into the middle of the room, stripped it of its bedding, and spread one of the drop cloths Finn had brought over it. He’d also brought over several rollers, white primer, painting tape, and white coveralls that he insisted we both put on.

“You can’t paint in that,” he said, indicating my red v-neck and capris. I’d already traded my wedges in for a pair of ratty old tennis shoes.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing the coveralls, a tank top, and cotton shorts before heading into the bathroom to change. After slipping on the tank and shorts, I stepped into the massive white suit. It had been designed for an adult male, and it was ridiculously large on my small frame. The sheer amount of fabric dwarfed me, with at least a foot of extra material hanging down past each hand and gathering over my feet. I haphazardly pushed up the sleeves and struggled to zip up the front of the coveralls. As soon as my hands fell to my sides, the extra fabric tumbled back down and covered my hands.