“You were my roommate.” I bite into my lower lip. “You know how I am.”
It’s a reason I wanted to kill Faith when she mentioned Finn moving in with me. Other than the nightmare the other night, I haven’t had many incidents lately.
She reaches across the table and presses her hand over mine. “You went through something that was fucked up, and you have PTSD. It’s common, and Finn would understand. He cares about you. I mean, would any random man sign up to put his life on hold like this?”
I release a heavy sigh. “I know; I know.”
A smile plays at her lips. “Now, make him yours and stop being afraid.”
Chapter Seventeen
Finn
As bad as I want to turn my phone off, I can’t.
I’m always nervous something will happen.
My dad’s name flashes across my phone for what seems like the hundredth time. Since he’s already left three voicemails, I know what he wants, but I’m at work. He’ll have to wait until I get off. I won’t risk this job to deal with his messes.
He’s shown up to Twisted Fox countless times when I haven’t answered his calls. He’s made scenes, asked for free liquor, and once started a fight with a man over a game of pool. The less he knows about my life, the better. Otherwise, he never fails to make his existence known when he wants something. No way am I risking that embarrassment here.
Hell, he’d probably come in drunk, asking to test-drive a BMW.
I wait until my lunch break to return his call.
“Quit blowing up my phone while I’m working,” I hiss as soon as he answers.
“At work?” he huffs. “It’s too damn early for you to be at work. I called, and they said you weren’t there. Not to mention, you never go into work during the day.” He lowers his voice, forcing it to sound sad. “Why are you lying to your own flesh and blood?”
“I got a new job—a day job.”
“Ah, where?”
“None of your business.”
“That’s rude.” He releases another huff, and knowing him, he’s scowling. “As your father, I should know. What if there’s an emergency?”
I sink deeper into the seat of my car and tip my head back, resting it against the headrest. “Do what you always do. Leave messages, and I’ll get back with you. Most of the time, your emergencies don’t constitute as emergencies.”
“Me going hungry isn’t an emergency?”
His response sends a fire through my blood. “You’re not going hungry. I bought groceries for you earlier this week.”
“I need something new. I can’t make food all the time.” He pauses as if searching for the right words for his next request. “Order me a pizza.”
“Gotta go.” I hang up.
“Yo! Finn!” Lincoln greets me with a smile from the other side of the bar when I sink down on a barstool.
Lincoln collects bills off the bar on his way toward me. He hasn’t worked at Twisted Fox long and recently joined our circle of friends. He’s Archer’s brother, and he was recently released from federal prison.
Their father had started doing shady shit with the family business. While Archer left to avoid trouble, Lincoln stayed, attempting to turn his dad straight. When the feds showed up, Lincoln had refused to feed them information about his father, which led him to being charged with crimes.
When he was released, Archer hired him to bartend here. Then, Cassidy was going through her own trouble, and now, they’re dating. Lincoln recently asked Cassidy to move in with him, but after Grace revealed she was pregnant, Cassidy told Lincoln she couldn’t leave her without a roommate.
The memory of Faith asking me about moving in with Grace smacks into me. Grace hasn’t brought it up since our dinner, so I’m not sure how she feels about it. Since Cassidy refused to leave Grace without a roommate, Lincoln practically lives there now too.
“What can I get you?” Lincoln asks.
I drum my fingers along the bar. “A Coors is good.”
It’s the first time I’ve actually had someone serve me here. Normally, I walk behind the bar, snag what I want, and pay for it.
Turning, he grabs a bottle from the fridge, pops off the cap, and slides it to me. “How’s the new job? Miss us yet?”
I chuckle. “The new job is going well. It’s different, but I’m getting used to it.”
“Luxury Imports is a good-ass dealership. I bought cars from there before my life fell apart.”
I’m convinced Lincoln isn’t normal as he laughs. Even though he went to prison for a crime he technically hadn’t committed, only witnessed and hadn’t snitched, he doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder that I’d definitely have. Sometimes, I’m jealous of how well he handles the shit that’s gone bad in the past.
He leans back on his heels and shoves his hands into his pockets. “If I ever decide to trade it in on something new, I’ll holler at you.”
I smile. “Thanks, man.”
I sold my third car today, and when I added the commission I’d receive, I nearly fell out of my chair. It’s more than I’d make in a month working anywhere else. The amount some people spend on cars baffles me. Hell, I could buy a house with that kind of money.
Some of my coworkers have lightened up their asshole attitudes—most likely after somehow finding out that I’m the father of his sister-in-law’s baby.
Did Brian tell them that?
I’m sure they talk a lot of shit behind my back, though. Assholes just don’t want to get fired. Not that I’d ask Brian to can a guy for not liking me.
Lincoln slaps his palm along the bar. “You’re actually just the person I wanted to talk to.”
I take a swig of my beer. “What’s up?”
He shoves his hand through his short black hair. “Cass might kill me for telling you this, but …” He pauses, looking from each side of the bar, double-checking she’s not here to kick his ass. “She’s pregnant.”
I wait to read his reaction before replying.
Is this good or bad news to him?
From the shit-eating grin on his face and the way he’s practically bouncing on his toes, I’m going with good news.
I smile. “Congrats, man.”
He chuckles. “There must be something in that townhouse’s water or some roommate ovaries wanting to get knocked up at the same time.”
He taps his fingers along the bar. “And that’s why I want to talk to you.”
I hold my hands out in a jokingly innocent gesture. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”
Leaning across the bar, he pushes my shoulder. “Real funny, jackass.”
He stares at me, unblinking. “A two-bedroom townhouse isn’t going to work unless the babies want their nursery in the living room.”
“Okay,” I slowly drawl the word out.
“Grace told Cass that her sister mentioned you moving in with her.”
“Okay,” I repeat in the same tone as before.
He frowns that I’m not feeding his conversation yet before perking up his shoulders. “Well, buddy, now comes the time when you help everyone out and become Grace’s new roommate.”