Then the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His self-control flew out the window and crashed to the ground in a heap.
Before he knew what was happening, his hand was under her chin, tilting her face toward him. Her lips parted, breaths coming quickly. He searched the depths of her bottomless brown eyes, looking for an answer to his unasked question. He saw nervousness… indecision… passion…
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, as his fingers drifted along her jawline, down to her neck, and behind her head to tangle in her hair. His other hand stroked the soft skin on the side of her face, while her lids drooped as if he’d drained her essence with his touch. When her palm came up to rest on his chest, his heart pounded, attempting to leap into her hand. He leaned in slowly, drawing out the moment. Her lips were so close he could feel their heat.
Then a loud bump sounded behind him, and Laurie sprang away, smoothing her hair in place.
Her brows arched high over rounded eyes. “Cole!”
Finn whipped around to face Cole, who dropped his suitcase on the floor by the front door.
“What are you doing here?” Finn demanded, as Laurie buried her face in her hands.
“I came back from Bran’s place so my poor sick friend wouldn’t be by himself when he just got out of the hospital.” He grinned like a kid at Christmas as he sauntered over to sit on the chair opposite the couch. “But it looks like you weren’t suffering all alone, after all.”
“You couldn’t have called first?” Finn balled his hands into fists.
“It’s after nine. You’re usually through with your CF treatment and sound asleep by now.” Cole flipped his hand toward them. “Please, don’t mind me. Go on with whatever you were doing.”
“We weren’t doing anything,” Laurie protested between the fingers covering her face.
“Look,” Cole said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you, I think it’s great.”
Finn growled. “There’s nothing going on between us. Nothing.”
“That’s not what it looked like to me,” said Cole, waggling his eyebrows.
Finn spoke with his jaw clenched. “Cole Miller, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, so help me, I’ll post every picture I have on social media, including the one of you streaking across campus.”
“Pretty desperate, if you’re going all the way back to our college days for ammunition.” Cole let out a belly laugh as he rose to his feet. “I’m going to leave you two lovebirds alone. But Laurie…” He waited until her hands dropped down far enough to expose her eyes. “Whatever you did to loosen this guy up… nice job.”
Chuckling, Cole maneuvered his artificial arm to stick a mechanical green thumb in the air, before strolling away at an unhurried pace. Finn kept his eyes trained on his ex-friend until he’d retrieved his bag and retreated to his room.
“It’s late. I need to go.” Laurie tried to stand up, but Finn caught her hand.
“Wait. We need to talk about this,” Finn said.
“Talk about what?” She jerked her hand away and scampered to her feet, backing away. “You’re the one who said it—there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Yes, but…” He rubbed his temples, suddenly throbbing. “I didn’t mean nothing. There’s something going on. It’s just not something something.”
“Well, that’s crystal clear,” she said sarcastically, hugging herself as if a chill wind were blowing. “What exactly is this…” She circled a hand between the two of them. “This something?”
What should he say? That he was attracted to her? That with her, he felt more alive than he had the last thirty-three years? That her love for music had lifted their relationship to another plane? That it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless?
And what would that mean for Laurie? His mind jumped forward in time and pictured her, draped in black, tears streaming down her face. Alone. Heavy responsibilities looming in the future. She’d already experienced some sort of emotional abuse. Though not intentional, wouldn’t he be doing the same thing—taking his happiness at her expense?
“I think you’re an amazing person.” He swallowed hard, averting his eyes. “And you’re going to make some lucky man incredibly happy.”
“I see,” she said, stiffly. “Some man. But not you.”
“Not me.” The words stuck in his throat like dry crackers.
“So that kiss that almost happened a minute ago… Was that you letting me know you’re not interested?”
His stomach churned, threatening to expel his dinner. How could he have been so selfish?
He darted a glance at her, flinching at the anger and hurt he saw in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I lost control. I find you physically attractive, and I just couldn’t help myself.”
“So, you like the outside of me, but the rest of me doesn’t live up to your standards?” From the corner of his eye, he saw her swipe the back of her hand across her eyes.
“I didn’t say that.” He rubbed his fingers on the aching jaw joint in front of his ear. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Then what happened?” Her voice cracked.
“It’s just…” He grasped for a reasonable explanation. “You’re my employee. We can’t do anything to jeopardize the work at Limitless.”
“And we could have a relationship if I didn’t work for you? Is it my station that bothers you?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Head ducked low, he stared at the leather of the couch. “It was just a kiss. That’s all. Only a kiss. A kiss that didn’t even happen.”
“You know what? I think I understand now.” Her shuddery breath was followed by silence, her glare burning into the back of his head until he was compelled to lift his gaze to meet hers. She stood with her chin held high, eyes swimming in tears. “I think I owe Cole a big thank you for walking in on us. Because that kiss-that-never-happened was no big deal to you…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips trembling. “But it meant the world to me.”
Finn dropped his head into his hands. What could he say that would undo the damage he’d done? He was still searching for a response when the front door creaked open, jolting him from his thoughts.
“Wait! Laurie, wait a second.” He leapt to his feet and hurried to the door, panting for air by the time he covered the short distance. The lung infection had taken more from him than he’d admitted.
