More of You: The Home Series, Book Two Read online

Page 6

“What did you just say?” Finn asks, his voice low, his grip on my arm tight.

  “I said, ‘At least I can be sure you Didn’t. Fuck. Bennett’,” being sure to annunciate each word. “Did I not speak clear enough the first time?”

  “Watch that mouth, Maggie. I heard what you said. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I learned some interesting stuff last night at work when I actually showed up for my shift and you were off doing God knows what. First,” I say, pulling out of his grip and ticking off facts on my fingers, “everyone at work knows you got me knocked up. They even know all about the damn closet. The secret’s out. Second, you know Katie we work with? Her roommate is a client of yours. Camille. Ring any bells? She was telling Anna all about your amazing skills, both with a tattoo gun and your cock. Seems you showed off all your skills just yesterday, Finn.”

  His face instantly pales. If I had to guess, it’s about the girl at the shop, and not about people finding out I’m pregnant. That’s the least of his worries at this point.

  He’s not denying Katie’s story, not saying a single word in his defense. Everything they said was true. I am disgusted.

  “We are done, Finn. And as much as I want to, I can’t just tell you to ‘fuck off’ because of this baby, but any sort of relationship you and I had is OVER.” I hate the words that are leaving my mouth, but I hate what he’s done to me even more. I can’t keep putting myself through this pain.

  “I’m sorry. I only did it because I was so pissed at you. I just couldn’t believe you were going out with someone else. That what happened between us the other night meant nothing to you.” He adds on a whisper, “It meant something to me, Magpie.”

  Recovering from shock of that statement, I tell him, “I was going to lunch with my friend.” I can’t let what he just told me rattle me.

  “Friend? I’m not an idiot, Maggie. The two of you were all over each other. I saw him kiss you, right there in front of the shop.”

  “Yes. Friend. Trust me, I would be thrilled if it was more, but unfortunately, he likes dick. He’s my gay best friend. We were on our way to meet his boyfriend for lunch.”

  “Fuck,” he breathes out, shaking his head, pulling his hands through his hair.

  “Yeah. So, instead of asking me about it, you go and fuck someone to get back at me. So, clearly, what happened between us the other night meant something to you.”

  “I didn’t want to. I couldn’t even finish. I felt sick afterwards. I couldn’t face you at work last night I felt so bad.” He’s trying to pull me into his arms, but I won’t let him touch me. I don’t want his hands on me anymore.

  “Oh, so that makes it all better? I should just forget about the whole thing because you couldn’t get off?” I’m getting more and more upset and so is he. “I don’t trust you anymore, Finn. Not that the trust was all that great to begin with, but now it’s completely gone. You’ve killed it.”

  “Maggie, please don’t do this. Don’t push me away.” His eyes are watering and glassy; tears are threating to spill over.

  I don’t want to see his emotional display. I have to look away. “I have to. I can’t keep doing this with you. I just need some time to figure out what’s best for my baby. Just give me some space. Please, Finn.”

  The door creaks open and Bennett pokes his head out. “Dinner’s on the table.”

  “Fuck, Maggie. I can’t go in there,” Finn says, looking towards the door and panicking.

  Before I can stop the words from coming out, I say, “Just take my car. Bennett and Lucy will bring me by to get it later.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Just go. We can do this another time.”

  He cautiously reaches out to me, moving in slow motion like you would do with a skittish animal. Against my better judgment, I don’t flinch or turn away, so he takes that as an invitation to pull me into his arms. We hold onto each other like it’s the last time it will ever happen. It feels like ‘goodbye’ and ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’ll never do that again’ in one depressing embrace. I feel Finn shuddering against my body. I couldn’t stop my tears, even if I tried. Based on Finn’s breathing, I’m certain he’s crying, too.

  He moves his mouth to my ear. I can feel wetness against my temple. His voice is raw. “I fucked up so bad. I never wanted to hurt you. I will fix us, Magpie. Just tell me how to fix us and I will do it. I promise.”

  I nod, he rubs the side of my belly, and he pulls back. The look on his face prompts a fresh wave of tears. He wipes my tears away as I pull my keys from my pocket and hand them to him.

  “Call me when you’re on your way,” he says. I get one more belly rub, and then he’s gone.

  Chapter Seven

  I sit through the worst Wednesday Night Brennan Family Dinner in history. I feel like hell from the incident with Finn, being at this table without Daddy makes me miss him so bad I can barely manage a full breath, and yet I have to sit here like all is right with the world. Mom was expecting Finn, so I explain that he got called into work and had to leave.

  Ava talks through most of dinner about mindless, innocent five year old things. I nod my head at the appropriate times, smile when I should, and answer when she asks me questions. I’m happy for the distraction, but I’m ready to wrap this up and get the hell out of here.

  I beg Bennett to leave before dessert. It’s amazing the things you can get out of when you’re pregnant. I should feel guilty, using my delicate condition as an excuse for things, but I don’t.

  Finn doesn’t answer my call, but I have Bennett bring me over to his apartment anyway. I see my car parked just outside his door so I know he’s in there. Bennett walks me halfway to the door.

  “Do I need to come in and referee? Things got pretty intense earlier,” he says. I guess we weren’t too quiet on the front porch.

  “It’s fine now. I’m just getting my keys back and going home. Thanks, though.”

  “I know the situation seems pretty bleak right now, but the two of you can make this work. Think about that baby, Mags. That’s what’s important.”

  He kisses my forehead and gets in the car, but he doesn’t back out.

  I knock on the door to Finn’s apartment several times, but he’s not answering. I say a quick prayer that he’s not in there with a woman and try the knob. It’s unlocked. I call his name a few times as I push the door open. I wave Bennett off and go inside.

  As soon as I’m through the door, my eyes start scanning. They don’t have too much ground to cover. Finn’s modern loft has everything within sight, except for the bathroom. And there he is, splayed across the couch, with his old friend Jameson on the table next to him.

  I slam the door with a little more force than necessary, waking him with a startle.

  “Shit Maggie, I didn’t hear you come in.” His brogue is thick, gravelly, and hoarse. He’s obviously been smoking tonight, too.

  I tip my head towards the table. “Based on what’s left in that bottle, you wouldn’t have heard a bomb go off.”

  He sits up and rubs his hands through his hair, stopping to massage his temples. He looks awful. His eyes are bloodshot; his skin is pasty and gray. I walk through the living room to the kitchen to get him some water. My hand freezes on its ascent to the refrigerator door.

  There’s the picture of the baby from the ultrasound. The front of his refrigerator is completely bare, except for that one little black and white photo. My forehead thuds against the freezer door as I try to control my erratic heartbeat. His words from the other night roll through my head.

  “I have nothing, Maggie. My whole world is in there. Don’t say you didn’t know I cared.”

  I think about how Finn has flipped from being so nonchalant about everything to his obsession with baby apps. I think about the silly texts he sends. The texts that I wait for with giddy anticipation every morning, even though I act like they are totally annoying. I think about the barefaced emotion I saw from him tonight when he was leaving. He’s ce
rtainly not perfect, but he’s trying to make himself better for the sake of this baby. I pick my head back up and look at that photo on the freezer door.

  I have to think about this child. Here’s a man, ready and willing to love it. I can’t let my hurt feelings and my bruised ego get in the way of that. When you think about it, Finn and I are essentially strangers. Most people in this position would probably be trying to get the father to actually give a shit. As twisted as it sounds, I’m lucky to be in the situation that I’m in. I have to make this better. My intentions were to come inside, get my keys, and leave, but seeing that picture in the kitchen makes me realize that I need to fix this.

  Finn and I have to fix this.

  Fix us.

  Remembering the whole point of coming in the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water, pour it over ice, and head back to the couch. He’s not there, but the door to the back patio is cracked. He’s outside, smoking a cigarette, staring into the darkness.

  “Here. Drink this,” I say, handing him the glass.

  He chugs it in one long gulp.

  “Thanks. Go back inside. This isn’t good for the baby. I’ll be in in a second.” He doesn’t even look at me.

  I go in and put the Jameson back in the kitchen, then sit on the couch. For the first time, I notice all the beautiful artwork lining the walls. They’re all similar in design, so they’ve got to be from the same artist. Everything is so detailed and intricate that my eyes can’t take in all the minute specifics that are present in each one. They are mostly black and white, but have shocks of color thrown in. They look like Finn’s tattoos that reside on his arms.

  I feel the couch dip next to me and I look over at him. He’s got so many different things playing across his face. Clearly he’s got a lot on his mind, but doesn’t know where to start. I know the feeling. I’m trying to decide what to address first, but Finn beats me to it.

  “I know this may not hold much weight with you, but I really am sorry. I’ve done a lot of terrible things in my life, but I’ve never regretted any of my actions more.” He looks and sounds sincere. I can tell he’s not bullshitting me.

  I nod. “I believe you.” He audibly exhales, relieved that I know he’s telling the truth. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you, but I think you’re being honest with me, which is important.”

  He reaches out and takes my hand, rubbing circles into my palm. The motion is becoming familiar. I’m not sure if it’s meant to comfort him or me.

  “I won’t lie to you, Maggie. I’ve been lied to so much in my life. I refuse to do it to you or our child. You might not like the truth sometimes, and it might hurt both of us for me to give it to you, but you’ll always get it.”

  “So what do we do now?” I ask him.

  “I will not step back from this. I will be a present and active part of this baby’s life.” He looks at me and smiles. “I’m pretty sure the two of you are a package deal, so looks like you’re stuck with me.”

  I drop my head to the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling, breaking our eye contact. I can’t keep my eyes on him when I let him know he’s gutted me. He’s promised me honesty, but I don’t want him to see how much he’s hurt me.

  “Twice now you’ve done this to me, Finn. Twice. First with your ex-girlfriend, and then with your whore at the tattoo shop.” I refuse go into detail about the feelings of desperation and despair that consume me when he has his little sexcapades. I need to protect my heart.

  “I’m done with all that. Lesson learned, Maggie. I won’t hurt you like that again,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “It hurts me, too.”

  “I’m not going there with you anymore. I told you, the trust is gone. I have to protect myself.” I didn’t realize I was crying until Finn’s hand leaves mine to wipe a tear from the corner of my eye.

  “Still done with it all, Maggie. And I’ll earn your trust back if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I roll my head to the side and look at Finn. He’s perked up since I got here. I sigh and run my fingers under my eyes. It’s been an emotional night, and I’m sure my makeup is hideous.

  “I need to go. It’s getting late.”

  “Let me drive you home.”

  “Umm, no. Not after all that whiskey you consumed.”

  “Stay here with me then.”

  “Absolutely not, Irish.”

  “I thought you weren’t gonna keep my baby from me,” he says, grinning like a school boy. “I want custody tonight. Stay here. I won’t touch you, I promise.”

  “I’m pretty sure custody rights don’t start until after the baby actually leaves my uterus.”

  He gets off the couch and pulls me to my feet, walking me to the door. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “Coming over, listening to me, agreeing to work on forgiving me.” His eyes move to my bump. “That.”

  I smile, not really knowing what to say back.

  The next morning, at an ungodly hour, my phone starts beeping. Finn’s obviously feeling better.

  Finn: Happy 12 weeks

  Maggie: It’s too early for this. How are you even up?

  Finn: We’ve grown to passion fruit status (or plum, depending on the app)

  Maggie: WOO HOO *typed with a total lack of enthusiasm*

  Finn: Baby can feel pressure, so touch your belly a lot

  Maggie: Sure

  Finn: I need to touch your bump more. She needs to know both of us

  Maggie: She?

  Finn: According to the online test I did and your mood swings

  Maggie: Conversation over

  Finn: Oh, and watch out for nosebleeds

  Maggie: Bye

  Finn: Headaches, too

  Maggie: LEAVE ME ALONE

  Finn: How’s your blood pressure

  Maggie: RISING WITH EACH TEXT!!!!!!

  Chapter Eight

  I can’t put off packing up my life and moving back home any longer. I haven’t said anything to my creepy landlord yet. I still have another week left on my lease, and I’m praying that Miller will pull his head out of his ass and come back home. A girl can dream.

  Miller hasn’t been gone very long, but he’s nursing one hell of a broken heart. He claims that’s something he can’t do here. He spent his whole life in love with Lucy, taking care of her and being her best friend. Not so easy to do now that she’s shacked up with Almost Doctor Bennett. So, Miller is off trying to ‘find himself’, or some other kind of bullshit. I miss him and want him home.

  Finn and I have spent the last few weeks trying to establish a relationship that works for us. I guess you could say we are becoming friends. I don’t know what kind of label to put on a relationship where you’ve had sex with someone, are having his baby, aren’t dating or even sleeping together anymore, and refuse to sleep with him because he’s a whore and has broken your heart a few too many times. So, for now, friends will have to suffice.

  I am still sick as hell. According to Finn and his vast pregnancy knowledge, this sickness should be going away since I’m in my second trimester, but it’s still knocking me on my ass on a daily basis. He’s made a habit of carrying around ginger candy, making me suck on one whenever I get the least bit nauseated. He’s constantly unwrapping them and popping them in my mouth whenever we’re together.

  I’m completely useless at work, so they’ve moved me off the floor and put me behind the bar. I can avoid the kitchen this way, so the bar’s a much better place for me to be. Well, except for the fact that I look kind of trashy in my condition serving up booze.

  I get to work a little early today so I can load up the trunk of my car with moving boxes. I’m in the back hallway breaking them down flat when I feel Finn behind me. I close my eyes for a second, bracing for his hands on my body. My brain has received and accepted the ‘just friends’ memo, but other parts of my body are still trying to work it out. They still get a tad excited when Finn gets in their vicinity and puts his hands on me.

  “How’
s my lemon?” he asks, running his hands along either side of my quickly disappearing waistline.

  “Making me sick and fat.”

  “Stop. You’re still as beautiful as ever,” he says, moving his hands to the front of my body. “What’s this?” he asks, turning me around.

  I can feel my face start to redden. “I can’t button my pants anymore, even my fat girl PMS pants. I have to hold them together with a rubber band,” I tell him, lifting my shirt so he can see my homemade contraption. I have a rubber band looped through the button hole of my pants and then wrapped around the button. It’s a ridiculous sight.

  “Why don’t you go buy some maternity clothes?”

  “I don’t want to,” I pout. “I’ll look like I’m wearing a tent. I shouldn’t even need them yet. This is getting out of control. I don’t even know how I’m gaining weight. Everything that goes in my mouth just comes right back up.”

  “How about after the doctor tomorrow we go shopping? We won’t stop until we find some non-tent options. I’ve seen some pretty hot pregnant chicks around.”

  I shrug and go back to my task at hand, ignoring his ‘hot pregnant chick’ comment.

  “Why are you breaking down these boxes? Shouldn’t the bussers be doing that?”

  I haven’t told Finn about the move home. “Well, my lease is up soon and there aren’t any one bedrooms in my complex. I’m moving back home.”

  “Home?” he asks, confused.

  “I don’t have a choice. I can’t pay rent on a three bedroom apartment by myself and Miller’s not coming back.”

  “For how long?”

  I shrug once again and look down. “I guess for a while. Momma can help me out when the baby gets here.”

  I look back up at Finn. He’s biting on his lip ring, staring at me. “Why do you need her to help you with the baby?”

  “I can’t do this by myself. Do you know how demanding a baby is? They are up all night, requiring constant attention. And from what I’m hearing, I’ll be exhausted, especially at first when I’m still recovering. I’m gonna need some help.”