10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Finley

" N o!" Sora's incredulous voice echoes in my nearly empty new studio where we're sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by boxes. "How would that even work? You can't tattoo it while it's flaccid. He'd have to be hard the whole time. While being poked with a needle! That's some serious concentration right there."

I hadn't thought of that, but it immediately makes me want to know exactly who gave him this tattoo and what he was thinking about when he got it. Flushed with jealousy and hating that I'm feeling envious of a tattoo artist, I rip open a box. "Let's just finish unpacking."

"Well, I think you're right to stay away from him." The sound of tape ripping across cardboard follows her words. "He clearly doesn't know what he wants. And we both know how that turns out. "

Sora's ex-husband was always a bit on the fence about their relationship. If they hadn't come from such a religious background, I don't think they would have gotten married at all. Especially not as young as they were. But their parents kept pressuring them to tie the knot so they wouldn't "fall into sin." So they did.

And three years later, he had an affair and left her. Just like Tim and me. At least we weren't married.

"You're right. Cyrus is not at all what I'm looking for." Pulling out a bath towel from the top of the box I just opened, I realize it's not art supplies like I thought. "This shouldn't be down here. I'm gonna take it up to my room."

With the box balanced on my hip, I step out of the studio and walk down the hall, passing Midas's office.

"Are you sure?" Cyrus's voice travels through the open door. He sounds upset. "They were seen here? Not at the hatchery? Here?"

There's silence instead of a response, so I'm guessing he's on the phone. I almost keep walking, but then he says, "You think they want Finley?"

I stop. What is that supposed to mean? Creeping closer to the door, I listen.

Silence, then a noise that sounds like a growl .

"Double the guard around the building," Cyrus says. "And I don't want her leaving without two guards watching her at all times. She's the sister of your Ra'a."

There's that nickname again. I heard it a couple of times at the party. Always in relation to Jess.

"Do whatever you have to do. I'll check in tomorrow." There's a noise like something slamming into wood, and Cyrus curses.

Why the hell would I need a guard? If this has to do with me, I want to know what exactly I'm dealing with.

I push open the door. "Alright, what are you? Mafia or something?"

Cyrus's eyes go as wide as saucers when I bust into the room. He looks so startled you'd think I just walked in on him naked or something. But he's fully dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. Still, the way he slams his phone down, it's clear he didn't want me to hear any of that.

Sucks to be him, because I'm not walking away from this until he tells me what sort of shit Midas got my sister and me tied up in. "So, mafia? It would explain some things. The money. Midas's evasiveness about what he does. All the red flags."

"How much of that did you hear? "

"Enough to know I'm in some kind of danger. Which means Jess probably is, too. Is that why they really had to leave?"

"Sit." He motions to an armchair in the corner.

"I'd prefer to stand." Shifting the box of bedding to my other hip, I give him a hard glare. "Answer the question, Cyrus."

He paces to the window and back again before he answers, his facial expressions changing with each step like he's arguing with himself.

When he stops in front of me, he pushes a sigh through clenched teeth. "We're not mafia, but we have… people who would like to hurt you." His hand drags over his mouth a few times, thinking. "It's not so uncommon when you have money, actually." He picks up steam while walking. "People want what you have and will go to great lengths to force your hand."

"You think someone wants to kidnap me? Ransom me or something?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Possibly."

"Is that really why Jess and Midas wanted you to stay here?"

"Yes." He rubs his chest like it pains him.

"Alright." I turn to walk out of the room, but he jumps in front of me.

"That's it?" He asks. "You're not upset? You're not going to demand I do something about it or anything?"

I shrug. "Getting upset won't do me any good, will it?"

His eyebrows drop, like he's looking at an abstract painting he can't understand. It almost makes me want to laugh or puff out my chest with pride. I enjoy being an enigma to him.

"You've got some kind of security or whatever, right? So, you're on top of it." I lift and lower my shoulders. "What else is there for me to do?"

There's an expression on his face I can't quite read. "Thank you for trusting me."

"With this? No problem."

He catches my meaning, because he flinches slightly and steps to the side, out of my way. I walk straight out of the room, stumbling mindlessly back to my studio. There might not be much I can do about the situation, and I'm not the kind to borrow trouble and get upset about something I can't control, but I hate the idea that I might be in danger. Hate it even more that Jess might be, too.

Cyrus said they're not mafia, and his explanation made sense, but still… there's always been something just a little off about Midas .

"You okay?" Sora asks. "Why do you still have the bedding?"

"Oh." I completely forgot I was holding it. Setting it down near the door, I consider telling Sora what I just heard, but what good would it do? She's got enough going on in her life. I don't need her worrying about me too. "Just ran into the dickhead, that's all."

"Oh, I should have gone with you. I really want to see this adonis man."

"He is pretty good eye candy." I smile, feeling lighter thanks to my best friend and the reminder of the show Cyrus put on for me this morning. Knowing Midas, he's got even more protection around Jess than whatever guards Cyrus has watching this place. That man is downright obsessed with my sister. She'll be fine.

I hip check Sora as I return to the pile of boxes in the middle of the room. "Let's finish up here, and I'll introduce you."

She hops on the balls of her feet and eagerly starts unwrapping an easel. After that, our conversation revolves mostly around her new job as a nanny and what I plan to do with myself now that I'm back in New York. By the time we finish, it's well into the afternoon, and we're both a little tipsy from our constant stream of mimosas.

"So, are you going to let me meet this brother-in-law now?" Sora stands up and brushes the shredded packing paper off her lap. "Wait, is he your brother-in-law or just Jess's? What is he to you? Is brother-in-law even the right title?"

"I don't know, but I don't like thinking of Cyrus as my brother-in-law."

Her smile is like a tiger ready to pounce. "Because you liiiiike him."

"I'm attracted to him. That's different." I flip my head upside down and throw my hair into a messy top knot, held in place with two thin paint brushes. "And didn't we decide he's not a guy I should go for?"

"Meh, I'm feeling more generous now. Maybe what you need is something casual. You were so head over heels for Tim, and he wasn't... well, you know. Maybe you need to practice having a little fun without it meaning anything."

"Is that your advice to me or to yourself?"

I know Sora's been questioning her choices lately, especially why she jumped into marriage with a guy who was lukewarm at best. Right after the divorce, she confided in me that she married him mostly because she wanted to have sex after two years of trying to avoid it.

The night she told me that was the same night she told me she wanted to have a one-night stand. I know she hasn't done it yet, but I get the impression she's thinking about it .

In answer to my question, she shrugs. "If you don't want him, maybe I'll take him for a ride."

"Take him for a ride?" I wrinkle my nose, and she giggles. "How many mimosas did you have?"

"Not that many!" The flush to her cheeks tells a different story. "Okay, maybe one too many. What can I say? I'm a lightweight. But I'm not drunk, just awfully relaxed and randy."

I study her closely as we make our way out of the studio and decide she's right. She's walking straight and not slurring her words or anything. Solidly tipsy, but not drunk.

"Cyrus?" I call as we make our way down the hall, unsure if he's still in Midas's office or somewhere else. Maybe he left for the afternoon. He hasn't left the apartment since he moved in, but that doesn't mean he's still here now.

"In here," he calls from the kitchen. Why do I feel relieved to hear his voice?

"I just wanted to introduce you to my friend, Sora, since she'll be around a bit." I turn the corner into the kitchen and see Cyrus making sandwiches with Jethro.

"Hi, I'm Soraaaa…" My friend trails off with a sharp intake of air, then turns and mouths, holy shit , to me, too tipsy to care that they saw her do it.

Jethro chuckles and steps forward first, offering his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sora. I'm Jethro."

She miscalculates the space between them and stumbles as she goes for his hand, practically falling into his chest. Her cheeks are as red as a cherry when she stands up and her mouth is still hanging open.

Jethro just smiles as she stutters over a few pleasantries.

"Would you ladies like to join us?" Jethro motions to the kitchen island which is spread with an array of food.

"No," I say at the same time as Sora says, "Yes."

While Sora and I have a silent argument with our eyes, Jethro pulls out a seat at the table. "Why don't you ladies sit, and we'll fix you something."

"That's okay." I shake my head. "We're really not—"

"A turkey sandwich with two tomatoes and no lettuce, please," Sora says as she sits down. My best friend is never so straightforward. I'm usually the one unafraid to ask for what I want. Not her.

Taking the seat next to her, I lean close enough to whisper, "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing yet." Her eyes follow Jethro's ass as he bends over to get a tomato out of the fridge .

Okay, Sora might not be straightforward or good about asking for what she needs, but she is good at going after a goal. When we were in high school, she was determined to win student body president even though she was running against the most popular girl in school. She didn't just make posters and talk to a few people. She made elaborate personalized gift baskets for everyone in our class and passed out fliers that detailed exactly what she'd do if elected. The woman is tenacious when she sets her eyes on something. And it's clear she's got her eyes on Jethro.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," I mutter to her under my breath.

"If I'm going to go to hell for having sex without being married, I want it to be worth it," she whispers, "and that man," she subtly tilts her head toward Jethro, "is definitely worth it."

"Are you sure you haven't had too much to drink?"

"One hundred percent positive."

Within minutes, Jethro and Sora are the only ones talking, while Cyrus and I awkwardly steal glances at each other. At least Jethro seems genuinely interested in what Sora has to say. Even when she starts talking about her ex and shares intimate details that would typically make someone uncomfortable. Jethro just keeps nodding and offering understanding. He's definitely gaining bonus points from me. I'm officially bumping him up to top tier friendship material.

Once we're all finished eating, Jethro says he can drive Sora home, and she immediately jumps on the offer.

I catch Cyrus's attention and to my surprise, he seems to know exactly what I'm thinking. "You can trust him. He won't try anything."

But I still pull Jethro aside before they leave. "If you try anything while she's vulnerable, I'll cut your fucking balls off."

He chuckles and brings a hand to his heart. "I'll be a perfect gentleman." He winks. "For tonight."

I jab a finger into his chest. "This isn't something to joke about. She just got out of a messy divorce and she's been drinking. Promise me you won't make a move on her."

His expression turns serious, glancing over his shoulder at my best friend, who's currently talking to Cyrus a few paces away. "By the goddess and the gold, I won't try anything tonight."

Weird, but okay. To each his own.

"I would, however, like your blessing to pursue her when she's sober," he says. "Not as a fling, but for something real."

"That's up to her. But… You're gonna have an uphill climb. She's not ready for anything serious. "

His usual jovial smile grows broader. "I can be very persuasive."

When we join Sora and Cyrus by the door, Jethro offers her his arm, which makes her giggle. They leave with smiles on their faces, and I'm still reeling from my best friend's out-of-character behavior when Cyrus shuts the door behind them.

"You're sure he'll behave himself? She's newly acquainted with sex and hasn't had any in months." Cyrus gives me a slightly confused look until I explain. "She's only been with one person and got a divorce recently."

"Ah, well, I would trust Jethro with my life. He's one of the most honorable men I know. But…" He directs a pensive stare at the closed door.

"But what? You can't just say but like that and trail off! Do I need to go after them?"

"No." He shakes his head. "No, she's safe with him. I've just never seen him so captivated by someone."

"Oh, well, Sora's gorgeous." I wave dismissively. "Men have always given her a lot of attention. Though she usually ignores it." I walk back into the kitchen, pushing up my sleeves so I can get to work on the dishes. "Honestly, I'm surprised you weren't drooling all over her. I caught my ex staring at her boobs more than once. "

A low rumbling comes from behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, Cyrus has his lips pinched in an angry line. "He didn't deserve you."

"Does anyone ever deserve anyone else? We're all pretty messed up. Love is a choice, a gift, not something we're owed." I avoid looking at him as I put the bread back in the fridge.

Cyrus makes a low growling noise of displeasure. "I'm not talking about love. I'm talking about common decency. We all deserve to be treated with respect. And that asshole clearly had none."

"I guess." But I can't help wondering sometimes if I made him lose respect for me. If I drove Tim away, made him stop caring somehow. Maybe I was too blunt or too clingy or wasn't caring enough. I don't know. I've never been great with relationships, even friendships.

When I'm hyper focused on a painting or sculpture, I zone out and forget things like birthdays, dates, and anniversaries. I hate talking on the phone, so I never call people just to catch up or see how they're doing. I say what I think and I'm not always the most empathetic. But when I get lonely and insecure, I can be pretty needy.

I know all these things about myself, but I've never really known how to change them. How to fix myself so I'm not so broken, so I'm more lovable.

"Where'd you go?" Cyrus asks. The counter is clear now and only the dishes are left.

"Nowhere. Just thinking."

I start loading the dishwasher, but Cyrus nudges me aside. "I'll do that."

Is it strange that his simple offer gives me a fluttery feeling in my belly? Tim would have never offered to take over washing the dishes.

I relinquish the plate I'm holding, but stay in the kitchen, leaning my hip against the counter, absentmindedly watching him.

He moves with a sort of grace that's not normal for most men. His fingers are long and almost elegant as they move a rag over the plate before placing it in the dishwasher. He's thorough. Focused.

I can't help wondering what those fingers would feel like on me. In me.

"Want to share what's in that beautiful head of yours?"

"Ha! No. Definitely not."

"Alright, want to hear what I'm thinking?" Finished, he closes the dishwasher, wipes his hands on a towel, and mirrors my position against the counter. "I'm thinking about that list I'm making of all the things I want to do to you."

"The one you'll only share with me on my birthday?" The annoyance in my tone is a bit too biting, shattering the mood. "Giving me a lady-boner without satisfaction isn't a very good birthday present."

He leans in close so his breath tickles my ear. "Who says I'm not going to satisfy you?"

With that, he saunters off, leaving me feeling unmoored and restless. What the hell is with him and this obsession with my birthday? And why the hell do I keep falling for his teasing?