FULL NOVELXO Finn Rhodes Forever: Chapter 32
HALF AN HOUR LATER, I sat on the bed beside Finn, taking his temperature. The thermometer beeped. A hundred and one Fahrenheit.
“Am I going to die?” Finn mumbled.
“Hilarious.” I frowned and reached for the orange juice I had bought at the pharmacy. “Are you still nauseous?”
He shook his head and sat up, drinking the orange juice. Even after I brought all my blankets from my apartment and loaded them on top of him, he was shivering.
He scanned my face with weak amusement. “Don’t look so worried, frowny face.” The corner of his mouth lifted but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not going to die.”
My brow furrowed. “I know.”
He finished the orange juice and lay back into the pillows. “You don’t need to stay here. I don’t want to get you sick.”
“I’m not leaving.” I stood and retrieved my laptop from the kitchen before taking the spot beside Finn on the bed. “Let me know if you want lunch. I bought soup.”
“You bought soup?” His smile lifted again.
I rolled my eyes. Seeing Finn like this was making me grumpy. “Go back to sleep.”
Finn slept the entire day. I sat on the bed beside him working on my thesis until I couldn’t stare at it anymore. When he opened his eyes in the late afternoon, I was watching an old season of a reality show on Netflix.
“You’re still here.” He squinted, adjusting to the light from the lamp beside him.
“You want some food? You should have something to drink.”
“Sure.” His eyes only opened halfway.
That nagging sense of wrongness stayed lodged in my ribs. Finn was supposed to be bulletproof, so healthy and strong and full of life, and he was a tired, weak mess. In the kitchen, I microwaved the soup with some toast the way my dad had made for me when I was sick as a kid.
Finn sat up against the pillows and ate his dinner. “Thank you, baby.”
I nodded, ignoring the pulse of warmth in my chest when he called me that. He finished his food and I took the bowl away before returning to the bed beside him. His eyes were closed again but he was still sitting.
“Hey. Lie down,” I whispered, and he moved back to his back. “What do you need?”
“Blowjob,” he mumbled.
I snorted. “Unbelievable.”
With his eyes closed, his grin hitched and I sat there watching his perfect smile, studying the way his hair fell into his eyes. I grabbed the thermometer from the bedside table. He groaned when I stuck it in his mouth again.
I waited for the beep. Still one hundred and one. Shit. Without thinking, I reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead, chewing my lip. He made a rumbly noise of appreciation, eyes still closed, as I stroked down the back of his head all the way to his shoulder. His shirt was damp with sweat.
“Finn, I’m going to change your shirt.”
“I’m cold.”
“I know, I’ll put a long-sleeve t-shirt on you. Where are they?”
“Closet.”
I dug around in the closet for the t-shirts, lifting one out of the built-in drawer. Papers fluttered to the floor, and I bent down to pick them up.
My heart stopped. Relocation of the Pacific Trail fern—a study in plant movement due to environmental changes. It was the first paper I had published in my program, when I was trying to prove that plants could thrive in new environments as the forest changed. There was my name on the byline, Morgan, O., as well as my advisor and the other students involved. I glanced through the papers. All four of my published papers were here.
Why were my research papers sitting in his closet? There were handwritten notes in the margins, phrases underlined with the definitions scribbled near them, and stars next to the findings. My lungs felt tight like I couldn’t catch my breath, and I shot a glance over my shoulder at Finn, already fast asleep again.
He had read my papers. My stomach did a slow roll forward and I felt a weird pressure behind my eyes, like I was going to cry or something, which was stupid, because this was nothing.
Right?
This was nothing.
In his flu haze, he admitted earlier that he was leaving. Maybe he didn’t even realize he was leaving, but he said it. What the fuck was I doing, getting attached to someone who couldn’t bear to stick around this boring town for longer than a summer?
His words from the shower popped into my head, about how he wanted to be all my firsts. How many times had I pictured those things with him over the past few days? As soon as he said that, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Us buying our first place. Us having kids together.
The papers rustled as I shoved them back where I found them.
After eating my own dinner, watching more TV on the bed beside Finn, and stepping over into my own apartment to brush my teeth and wash my face, I settled onto the bed next to him.
This wasn’t weird. We weren’t sleeping together, it was because he was sick. What if he got sick again in the middle of the night? What if he had trouble breathing, like Beck said?
Beck had texted me while I was brushing my teeth. Everything okay?
I stuck the thermometer back in Finn’s mouth. I’d taken ten temperature readings today. One hundred degrees. My eyebrows lifted. This was good. His fever was going down.
He’s been sleeping all day. Temperature down to 100F.
Good. I’ll check in tomorrow morning, he replied.
I rubbed my sternum, swelling with gratitude for him. Next time he came into the bar, his drink was on me.
Finn was leaving. I swallowed past a thick throat. I didn’t know what to think anymore. A pressure built in my chest but I shoved it away. I didn’t dare let myself be disappointed. Disappointed over what? This thing with Finn was temporary. I crawled under one of the blankets and settled into bed, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull me to sleep.
I WOKE in the middle of the night to Finn sitting up beside me.
“Liv?” He frowned in the dim light.
My hand came to his shoulder. “I’m here.”
He made a soft noise of acknowledgement before relaxing back into the pillows, and a muscle in my chest tugged. He needed me. He was comforted that I was here. We’d never done this before. When we were teenagers, our parents took care of us when we were sick.
I’d never taken care of anyone when they were sick before.
I blew a long breath out. Oh, shit. This was a relationship thing. This was what partners did.
“So glad you’re here.” His eyes were closed again.
I put my hand on his forehead. He felt cooler than before. I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t back to normal but better. So much better than before. Good.
“I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled, reaching for my hand and tucking it to his chest, and I froze.
My mind whirled, repeating what I had heard. Where he trapped my hand against him, I could feel his heartbeat.
Finn was leaving, he said it himself, but he also read all my research papers, something even my parents hadn’t done. He told me he wanted to have kids with me. He told me we were meant to be. He was trying to woo me.
My forehead creased and I winced. I was so, so confused.
“You said you weren’t staying earlier,” I said softly. “Where are you going?”
He clutched my hand, half asleep. “Going to buy us a house.”
I stared at him. “What?”
He cleared his throat, turning onto his back, eyes still closed. “That old house at the edge of town. Holden said he’d help me fix it up. Four bedrooms for Cora’s cousins.”
The one we passed every time we drove into the mountains. The one we used to ride our bikes to as kids. He knew I loved that house. My nose was practically against the windshield whenever we drove past it.
My pulse picked up and I stared at Finn’s face, pressing my mouth into a thin line so I wouldn’t smile. Bubbles fizzed in my chest.
He wasn’t leaving. He just meant he wasn’t staying here in this apartment.
Don’t you dare get your hopes up.
I wanted to, though. I really fucking wanted to get my hopes up. Would I regret not giving us a shot? Fifty years from now, would I think about Finn Rhodes and wish I’d said yes?
I thought about Cole. He and my mom were high school sweethearts. They loved each other, and they had a kid together and he still didn’t stay.
I bit my lip, watching Finn sleep. I had no freaking clue what to do.