CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

N oah

THE WEDDING IS GORGEOUS , but Finn is silent when he leads me to the dance floor after we've eaten our perfect food and listened to the wedding party deliver perfect speeches. Love fucking wafts through the air. I mean, there are humungous vases stuffed with flowers on every table, and the violins have been abandoned for Frank Sinatra-style jazz.

It's not unromantic. Movie directors of romcoms would want to take notes on this event.

I wrap my arms around Finn's neck, and we shuffle together. I guess dancing isn't one of Finn's fabulous qualities. We can work on that.

"Maybe we should leave," he says.

"Already?"

He gives a miserable nod, and I move into action.

"Let's go then." I take his hand and lead him from the dancefloor, waving goodbye to the teammates I see who aren't utterly gone for their dates and staring deep into their eyes and murmuring every romantic line from every romantic song ever.

"Sorry," Finn says, once we're outside. We stare into the dark, starry night, the shimmering stars brighter outside of the city. "We can go back in if you want. I-I'm sorry."

"It's fine," I say. "You don't always need to be on. Let's get you home, big guy. I'll even drive. "

He fixes a glare at me. "I'm shorter than you."

"Oh? I wasn't sure since you're always insisting on carrying me around."

He snorts and almost has a smile on his face by the time we reach the car.

"You weren't upset by the wedding?" he asks.

"Because I fucking hate love?" I draw my forehead together, probably forming all sorts of abysmal wrinkles.

He laughs. "No, you're too innocent to be that cynical, baby. I just mean—don't you wish that we had had that?"

Something stirs in my heart. Something makes it beat faster. Something makes me turn so I can see his exact expression, look at his eyes, and...

His head is turned, focused on the view of the waves.

I shouldn't have offered to drive.

"You would have wanted us to have had a big wedding?" I ask.

I'm sure confusion ripples through every word in my sentence.

Finn heaves a sigh. "No, of course not. We would have been sober by the time they'd all arrived at the wedding. This takes months to organize."

I give a weak laugh. "Yeah, that would have to be some bender."

"We wouldn't be playing hockey."

I stare out the windshield at the glum depiction Finn just made.

"We wouldn't have done that," I say finally.

"I know," Finn says, but his voice almost sounds miserable .

But I'm sure Finn doesn't mean that he wishes we'd gone on a months-long drinking disaster.

"I'll give you a blowjob when we get home," I promise.

He laughs. "Oh, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Better start getting excited."

"Really?"

"Let's not shock the security guard or elevator people."

He snorts. "Elevator people."

"Yeah. The people we see in elevators sometimes."

"I call them neighbors."

"Guess that works too."

He stares at me. "Pull over."

I blink. "You want to drive, after all? Is that what this mood has been about?"

"No, idiot. I want to blow you."

"Oh."

"Pull over."

And so I do.

"What you want to do is illegal," I begin.

"You expect cops to drive past this narrow road with bright-lighted vehicles?"

"Um, maybe?"

Finn chews on his bottom lip, and I realize I talked myself out of getting a blowjob from Finn.

Finn smirks at me, like he knows what I'm thinking. "Let's take a walk."

I narrow my gaze, but Finn is already unbuckling and leaving the car. Since I so don't want to sit in the car by myself in the dark, I go after him. Reeds brush against my ankles, and the ground shifts. We're walking on sand. Ocean waves fill the air, and I inhale a salty scent.

"This would probably be beautiful if I could see anything," I say.

Finn whirls around. "I know something that will appeal to your senses."

And in the next moment he cups my face in his hands, and we are kissing, kissing, kissing.

His tongue traces mine, and his grip is firm. I sink into his masculinity. Everything is harder, firmer, rougher than with a woman. And, oh, God, I like it.

"I could kiss you forever," I murmur when we both come up for air.

His chest vibrates, and I realize he's giggling. "Says the man who didn't even want to leave the car."

"We might get caught."

"Better lie down, my sweet puck."

"We'll ruin our tuxes."

"I'll give the drycleaner a huge tip. It will make her day."

I give a strangled laugh. "We have to make sure that happens."

Then I sit down on the sand and look up at the stars, the moon, and Finn.

My husband.

I love you.

I press my lips together, and I'm grateful when he kisses me again, so I don't accidentally blurt the words aloud. Finn was so quiet at the wedding, so unlike himself, and I don't want to cause him any further stress.

Further stress he might get if he thinks one day he'll have to break my heart to be free again.