I Never Let You Go (I Never 3)

“She’s my favorite.” I jump at her soft voice. Lauren walks over and joins me by my side. She hands me a coffee mug, and I hand her the book. She smiles at it before placing it back on the shelf.

“I see that.” I take a sip of the coffee, and this is heaven. Did she remember exactly how I like my coffee?

I must have a shocked look on my face because Lauren responds, “Oh, I’m sorry, do you not take your coffee like that?”

“Oh no, it’s perfect.”

She nods and turns back to look at the bookshelf. I watch Lauren as she takes in all the books, longing for something almost.

“I’ve read all of them,” she openly admits as I turn to the twenty-some books on her shelves, “some even more than once.” Honestly, I’m not surprised.

“You always did love reading.” I face her, leaning against the shelf, and hold her gaze.

The smile on her face falls for a second, and if I wasn’t staring at her, I might have just missed it. She takes a deep breath, and I choose to hide behind my coffee like a coward. “Reading gives you an escape without ever leaving the couch. I can get lost in someone else’s happily ever afters since not everyone gets them in real life.”

She can’t honestly believe that. I step closer to her, and her eyes lift. They are full of pain—pain that I put there. I cup her cheek with one hand and run my thumb along her cheek just as she had done. “Lauren…”

I try to continue, but she straightens her shoulders and steps out of my reach. I realize the walls that had broken down this morning are quickly rebuilding themselves up, but what she does next

surprises me.

“Here.” She holds her hand out in between us. “Give me your phone.”

I reach into my pocket and pull my phone out, unlocking it before placing it in her hand. She types a few things out and hands it back to me. I look down and see she made a new contact on my phone. Her. I can’t hide the small smile that appears on my lips.

“You know, in case you ever need a place to crash again, you can give me a heads-up instead of scaring the shit out of me on my front porch.” I hear the playfulness in her voice. I stare down at the number until the screen goes black. This is something, a step in the right direction for us. I slip my phone back in my pocket, and my eyes lift to meet hers. For the first time in a long time, her smile reaches her eyes around me.

She shifts on her feet. There is no denying the pull between us. “How about I go change, and I can drop you off at your car. You do know where you left it, right?”

I nod. “That sounds great.” She turns and heads to the stairs as I take another sip, finishing my coffee.

She pauses at the base of the stairs. “Oh, and you owe me a new rosebush, by the way.”

I scrub my hands over my face in embarrassment, but when Lauren’s laughter reaches my ears, the tension I felt disappears. She’s clearly not mad, but more amused. She doesn’t give me a chance to say anything before she runs up the stairs.

Once in the safety of my bedroom, I softly close the door and relax against it. Taking a few deep breaths, I gather my thoughts of the morning. As Finn talked about his dad, my heart broke for him and his family. I had to fight the urge to crawl into his lap and hold him just as he had all those years ago when my dad left. Of course, the big difference is that my dad left by choice. And then I shocked myself by giving Finn my number.

I could get lost in my thoughts all day, but Finn is downstairs by himself. I push off the door and walk over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a random T-shirt. I even grab a fresh pair of underwear because, let’s face it, after that moment in front of the bookcase, they were ruined. I quickly change and brush my teeth.

I come downstairs with my keys and purse in hand to find an empty living room. “Finn?” I call out, but no answer. Did he leave? I pop my head in the kitchen, and he’s not there either. Where did he go? Maybe this was just all too much. I hear water running out front. I open the front door to find Finn standing there watering the rosebush he had thrown up over. I watch him, and the feeling of having him at my house, watering or, well, rinsing the flowers, feels right and routine, and that scares the shit out of me.

He glances over his shoulder. “Sorry”—he grimaces—“about the roses. I feel like an ass.” He finishes up and sets the hose back down. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” I close the front door behind me and lock up. Finn leads me to the car, and before I can reach for the door handle, Finn grabs it, opening the door for me. I swallow thickly. “Thank you.”

He just nods and closes the door before walking around to the passenger side.

When I start the car, “Higher Love” by Kygo and Whitney Houston jams through the speakers, startling us both. I quickly turn the volume down to a reasonable level and squeeze my eyes shut.

Finn’s laughter fills the car. “Still like to rock out, huh?”

I shrug, not denying anything, as I back out of the driveway. What can I say, I enjoy my windows down and music loud, even during colder months—then I just crank the heat up. Finn directs me to the bar where his truck is parked.

“Did I do or say anything else last night?”

I’m thankful that my focus needs to stay on the road. I chew on the inside of my lip, wondering if now is the right moment to ask about what he said before passing out. But I’m too much of a coward to find out if it wasn’t me he was talking about, so instead, I just say, “Nope, you passed out as soon as I got you on the couch.”

He nods but stays silent the rest of the ride to the bar. Does he remember what he said and know that I was just lying?