Counterfeit Love

Still, I was practical.

There were concerns.

"What about your place? The money. You can't just leave that all there. Anyone could happen by."

"So, we tell Ferryn and Vance to check in. They're likely looking for new surfaces to fuck on. I would like their honest opinion on my headboard."

"Your headboard is hideous."

"I feel I need a second opinion."

"The sales lady looked at me with pity in her eyes when you said you were buying it."

"That wasn't pity, love, that was envy."

"You're delusional."

"Might be because I have three of these fucking things stuck to me," he said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the three clear strips of nicotine patches on his upper arm.

"You're only supposed to use one."

"One wasn't working."

"You said you forgot to try to quit."

"I didn't forget so much as run out of lollipops," he said, looking boyish, as his smile spread.

"You're going to get nicotine poisoning. Didn't you read the little booklet?"

"You did?" he asked, eyes rolling playfully. "Nerd."

"Take two of those off," I demanded, moving up onto my knees, reaching out, grabbing two and pulling.

"Ow," he said when I ripped them off.

"And by that you mean 'Thank you for saving me from cramps, headaches, vomiting, rapid heartbeat and breathing, confusion, restlessness, weakness, convulsions, and coma'."

"Yeah, that's what I said, isn't it?" he shot back, smiling, making my lips curve up as well.

I had to admit, if there was a person in the world I could see myself having a good time on a road trip with, it was Finch.

It seemed impossible not to have a good time around someone like him. A man who radiated light and warmth.

Maybe a small part of me was worried that, if he shined too much in my direction, tried to brighten all my darkness, I would dull his light in turn, that I would take something away from him.

"Chris," he called, snapping me out of my negative thought cycle.

"Yeah?"

"Say yes," he demanded.

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is. You just want to make it complicated."

"I don't want to make it complicated. It is complicated."

"Or you're just scared that you are going to have the absolute time of your life with me and when we get back, you are going to fall into a deep, dark depression because you won't be able to see me every waking moment of your life again."

"Yeah, that must be it," I agreed, chuckling.

"Alright how about this," he said, putting both his arms out at his sides like justice scales. "If this is the side that is your resistance," he said, raising his right hand a little. "And this is the hand that is your desire to go," he went on, raising the left. "Which one has a lot more weight?" he asked as he tipped the left side lower and lower.

"Just... let me think about it."

"If I let you think about it, you'll talk yourself out of it."

He wasn't wrong about that.

"I have a lot to figure out."

"I'm not saying we have to leave right this minute. I am saying you have to decide right this minute. What do you want more? Your status quo, or a little adventure?"

Don't get me wrong, I wanted my status quo.

Because I had trained myself to crave it.

But that said, I wanted adventure just a little bit more.

More specifically, I wanted an adventure with Finch just a little bit more.

My arm lifted, finger pointing to the left.

"That's what I thought," he declared, hopping to his feet, holding his left hand down to me.

And this time?

I didn't look at it like it might hurt me.

No.

When I looked at his hand, all I saw was freedom.

So I put mine in his, and I let him drag me to my feet.

"Oh, Finch, one thing," I called out a few minutes later when he was on the outside of the gates and I was on the inside.

"Anything, dollface."

"There's no smoking in my car."

"Well," he said, nodding. "I guess you're going to have to add a trip to Costco to that to-do-before-we-leave list I know you are already creating.

I was, too.

And I liked it a little too much that he knew that.

"Why?"

"Because you're going to need to get me a giant bag of lollipops."

With that, he was gone.

And, I realized, as I watched him walk away, he was taking a small piece of me with him.

What's more, I felt completely comfortable letting him do so.

I could trust him with it.

I could trust him with me.

That was the most profound and amazing and terrifying thing I had ever realized.

"Go to Costco," I mumbled to myself as I reached for my phone.

There would be time to muse more on all that other stuff another day.

Right now, I had a list to make.Chapter EightFinchShe hadn't told me much.

Really, she didn't have to.

That file folder sure spoke for itself.

The amount of detail in it was telling, too.