I Never Let You Go (I Never 3)

There was no way I imagined him in the church, right? It was definitely him, my Finn, although it’s been ten years since I’ve been able to call him mine. I can’t tell a lie and say that my eyes didn’t wander around the room as Hunter and I danced our way into the reception earlier, even though I told myself not to.

Actually, I may have been searching for him the entire reception thus far, but when I come up empty each time, I began to think that I did imagine him. Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me with all this wedding and love stuff.

After the bouquet toss, I excused myself to the restroom to splash my face with some water. I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I see a girl who, through all the heartbreak, managed to graduate grad school not only with a master’s degree in early education but with a 4.0 GPA. A girl who, even though she vomited in the parking lot on the day of her interview, was hired to teach second grade at Central Academy.

I am a strong and determined woman. I am not weak; I am a fighter. And I am sure as hell not going to let the thought of seeing Finn Reynolds again break me down. I straighten my shoulders, adjust my dress, and make my way back to the reception.

I stand against the doorway of the room leading to the party and observe everyone around me. Dani and Kyler are mingling with their guests, Kate is dancing with one of the groomsmen, and I also notice my mother standing there talking to Finn’s mom, Denise. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a dream. Perhaps he could be here. Did my mother know that he would be here? Did she keep that from me?

I realize I am far too sober for this. Instead of joining my family and friends, I head toward the bar—it seems like the perfect place to hide. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone, right?

I adjust my dress again—ugh, why did I settle for a strapless dress? I feel like my boobs are about to pop out—and rest my elbows on the bar, waving to the bartender who walks over to me. He’s cute, a little young for my taste. His boyish face makes him look like he is barely legal to be serving.

“What can I get you,” the young bartender asks.

“A glass of champagne, please.” He nods and grabs a glass, setting it down in front of me. I bring the glass to my lips and welcome the bubbly goodness on my tongue. I let the alcohol flow through my veins as I quickly chug the contents and signal for another. My drink is quickly refilled, and I’m playing with the stem of the glass, twirling it between my palms when I feel someone approach.

“Give up on those super-sweet girly drinks, have you, Lo? I never thought I’d see the day.”

My body instantly tenses. I quickly set the glass back down. Lo. I haven’t heard that nickname in years. He is the only one who has ever called me that. I close my eyes and try to even out my breathing. I can’t make a scene on my brother’s wedding day. My lip begins to quiver, but I refuse to cry any more tears over this man, and even more so, I refuse to let him see me cry, to show him he has any effect on me at all. Yet I know I can’t keep my promise that I won’t cry any more tears over him.

I squeeze my eyes shut one last time before turning around to face him. Finn. I didn’t think my heart could beat erratically and stop at the same time, but that’s what this boy does. I see that he is no longer a boy in any way. He is all man. Why couldn’t he have gotten uglier over the years? I think he has gotten sexier, his shoulders broadened out, and I can’t help but notice the way he fills out his suit. He always looked good in suits. Back in high school, I loved game days when the football team would need to dress up. Damn, fate is cruel. My mouth is parched at the sight of him, but I can’t say the same for my panties.

I turn back toward the bar and take a sip of my champagne, needing the buzz even more now.

He steps up to the bar, taking the empty spot next to me. My breath hitches as his scent fills my nostrils, a smell that used to bring peace whenever it was near. Finn signals the bartender for a beer, and he quickly sets an opened bottle down in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” I turn to face him, propping my elbow on the bar. I don’t want to spend this time making pleasantries. I could have taken the cordial route and been the bigger person, but seeing him after all these years brings back all the emotion. Emotions I haven’t felt in so long—the good and the bad, the beginning and the end of us.

“I’m here for the same reasons you are.” He takes a sip of the beer, and I find myself staring at the bottle resting against his lips. My eyes linger as I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the liquid. He looks over, and a smug smirk appears on his face when he catches me staring. I can’t decide whether I want to slap that look off his face or jump into his arms and kiss it off.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think so. It wasn’t your brother who got married today.” My tone is clipped.

Before I can continue, he cuts me off by stepping farther into my space, my back hitting the wooden counter. He places his hands on the bar on both sides of me, caging me in. His body is pressed up against me. Can he feel my heart beating out of my chest? Can he tell that my nipples are puckered at his closeness?

I should escape, run away, faint, do anything to avoid conversation, but my feet are planted in place. This is the worst time for my head to let my heart take the lead. Look what happened the last time it did that. You’d think it would have learned.

“Lauren, I don’t want to fight. I don’t know when we became hostile toward each other, but I promise I come in peace.”

I became hostile when you moved on so quickly instead of working through our troubles. You told me that there would never be anyone else for you but me, but that wasn’t true. I did this, and now I have to live with the consequences. All I had to have done was say yes, and we could have had it all.

He must be able to sense my tense body for his voice softens. I feel his hot breath on my ear as he leans down, and as much as I will my body not to react, a trail of goosebumps shimmies up my arms when he says, “Dance with me?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that.” The last time I saw him, he had another woman on his arm, kissing his cheek.

He looks confused. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” I know he doesn’t have a wife because I already shamelessly looked at his finger, but Finn is a relationship kind of guy, the one in it for the long haul. Don’t look too much into it, Lauren. It doesn’t change things. I ignore my heart telling me, Now is your chance. Tell him you still love him, Lauren. Tell him everything.

I hesitate. Finn steps farther up to me so that our bodies are now touching. He’s so close that I have to look up at him. “It’s just one dance, Lo.”

I look toward the dance floor and pull the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth, contemplating my answer. I’ve never been able to resist Finn Reynolds—why start now? I can hear his voice in my head all the times he said, “C’mon, Lo, just one more…” One more smile, one more minute, one more kiss, one more orgasm. What’s one dance?

I down the rest of the champagne and place the glass back on the bar. I know that my cheeks are flushed—I could easily blame that on the alcohol and not at the idea that I’m about to be in Finn’s arms once again. I turn to face him, holding one finger up. “One dance.”

His smile widens, knowing that he won. Don’t fall for it, Lauren. That smile still seems to make me weak in the knees, and I hate it. ”One dance, I promise.”

He extends his hand in my direction. I glance down first as if it were a snake ready to strike. He tries to set me at ease, confirming it’s just one dance. I place my hand in his, and my body comes alive. I never had my body react the way it does with Finn, no matter with all the guys I tried to date to forget about him.