“I need a short term place to live.” Sadness swamps my chest. I don’t want to find a new place. Which just proves I really need to find one.

“You just moved here?” Nate asks.

“No. My place burned down.”

“Man that sucks.”

I think of Finn running into the ER to find me, the way he brought me home and made me feel like it was my home too, for as long as I needed it. And then I think of Finn up there right now with Britt, and the way he looked at her. They have a history, and it clearly isn’t a simple one.

My cocktail chokes me going down, a sticky sweet burn on my tongue. “Yeah.”

Nate moves closer until he’s standing opposite of me. “I can keep an ear out for you. If you want to give me your number.”

I stare up at Nate with his shaved head, gauge in his ears, cute suspenders over his shoulders. There’s interest in his eyes.

“You want my number?”

The interest turns to heat. “I’m great at consoling.”

I bet he is.

Finn is better.

Finn is in his apartment with a supermodel.

I hand Nate my phone, and he punches in his number.

Not even a glimmer of anticipation in my belly.

“So,” he says, happier now. “You want another drink, pretty little lady?”

Pretty little lady? I’m regretting my decision more and more. “Another drink and I’ll be buzzed. Better give me a menu.”

“Let’s get you fed, then.” Nate grins. I know he thinks I’m lingering because of him, but I can’t return to Finn’s any time soon. Short of walking around, I have nowhere else to go, which utterly sucks.

I eat my dinner and chat with Nate, and a few patrons who sit down at the bar, until my butt is numb and I’m fairly certain I’m leading Nate to a very wrong conclusion.

When he’s occupied, I leave some money on the bar and slip out into the fading light. And then I do walk around, until it’s dark and I can’t stall anymore.

At Finn’s place, I turn the lock to his front door as quietly as I can.

Please don’t let me hear them. Please let them be in his bedroom. God, the horror of actually seeing them makes me pause, my heart thudding in my chest like cannon fire.

Like a thief, I creep in. The living room is dark, and I heave a sigh of relief as I ease my way toward my bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Finn asks from behind me.

With a stifled yelp, I pivot and press a hand to my heart. “Jesus, sneaky much?”

Finn raises a brow and gives me a pointed look.

“I was trying not to disturb you.” It’s only now that I notice the TV is on, pressed to pause on one of his games. Finn is in baggy sweats and an old Nike tee with the words “Just Do It” splashed across his broad chest.

“I’m disturbed that you’re tiptoeing around like some cartoon villain,” he says with an eye roll and then heads for the couch, a sports drink clutched in one hand.

Setting my purse down on the side table, I follow him. “I wasn’t tiptoeing. I was being quiet.”

Finn snorts and plops on the couch before peering up at me as if I’m full of it. Which I am. “You’ve been gone a while.”

It sounds like an accusation.

“You had company.” Shit, that sounds like one too.

Finn turns back to the screen. “Not anymore.”

There’s a tone in his voice that gives me pause. Sorrow or bitterness. It’s hard to tell.

I make my way over to the couch and hover by the arm, not sure if I should sit down or leave him alone and go to my room. Finn doesn’t bother to look up, but takes a long drink from the bottle in his hand. The faint lines that fan out from the corners of his eyes are deeper now, tight and unhappy.

“You eat?” he asks, setting his sports drink on the table. “I had to put the cheese away. It was getting sweaty. But I can pull it back out.”

I clear my throat. “No, I’m good. I ate at a bar.”

Quietly, he nods and then reaches for his game controller. I turn to go when his voice stops me.

“Stay.” He glances up, and I nearly rock back on my feet. Because he looks haunted. Angry. Lost.

I find myself sitting beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, but not close enough to risk leaning on him. “You all right?”

His expression shutters. “Just tired.”

The finality in his tone makes it clear he’s not going to answer any more questions. I’m almost relieved. The last thing I want to do is console him on his love life. Even so, I don’t like that he’s hurting.

He glances my way but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I can put on something else if you want.”

“No.” I kick off my shoes and set my phone on the coffee table before curling up more comfortably on the couch. “Let me see you kick some ass with your big guns of fury.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Are you throwing shade, Chester?”

“Me?” I blink innocently. “I would never.”

Finn hums as if dubious, but his expression is lighter as he starts up his game. Content to sit next to him and watch him play, I zone out, my body growing heavy and warm. Two hours I’ve been gone, and I’ve missed him like it’s been weeks. I’m so screwed.

He finishes the game and turns on regular TV, flipping through the channels.

“Oh, wait,” I cry out. “Stop here.”

“‘Friends’? Really?”

“Don’t give me that look. It’s funny!”

“It’s like… what? Twenty something years old.”

“You’re a twenty something,” I point out with some asperity. “Should I not watch you on TV?”

His brows raise at that. “Do you watch me on TV?”

He sounds both hopeful and skeptical.

“James is a huge fan. I’ve been watching you play since the beginning.”

For a long moment, he says nothing, his gaze darting over my face as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m being truthful. But then a slow, pleased light fills his eyes. “It’s unnerving how much I love knowing that.”

It’s all I can do not to squirm. “I should clarify that it was mostly out of the corner of my eye, and you were not much more than a padded up dude hiding under a big helmet.”