Even though they’re friends who respect the bro code, they have no problem calling each other out when they’re in the wrong.
“I’m so confused,” I mutter.
“We all are,” Cassidy says, not bothering to lower her voice so Silas doesn’t hear. “Lola was looking at Silas with stars and horniness in her eyes. Instead of nicely turning her down, he pushed her off his lap.” She shakes her head. “That has to do something to a girl’s ego. Especially when Silas acts like he’s in love with her.”
“Acts like?” Finn snorts. “Silas is in love with her.”
“I hate that motherfucker,” Silas says out of nowhere. “I’m doing everything not to storm down there and beat his ass.”
“Why do you hate him?” Jamie asks softly.
Silas taps his foot. “He’s shady as fuck.”
“He’s shady as fuck because he’s really shady as fuck or he’s shady as fuck because he’s flirting with Lola?” Lincoln asks.
“Both.” Silas grimaces.
“Are you going to finally admit you two have hooked up?” Georgia asks, always one to ask for gossip.
Silas stares at his tapping foot. “Nah, we’ve never had sex.”
“But have you hooked up?” Sierra clarifies.
Silas stays quiet.
“How about this?” Finn says. “Grow some balls and go apologize and tell Lola how you feel.”
Silas’s eyes are sharp when he stares at Finn. “I could say the same shit to you, brother.”
I freeze.
Finn hunches forward. “Don’t take your anger out on me, man.”
Silas points at me. “Grace wouldn’t be pregnant with another man’s baby had you grown some balls.”
I jerk my head back. As I clutch my stomach, my heartbeat turns sluggish. My thoughts cloud as if I’d drunk as much as Lola.
Silas has never acted like this before.
Finn jumps to his feet and bares his teeth. “Watch your goddamn mouth.”
“Does the truth hurt?” Silas asks, his stare on Finn intense.
They’re in a standoff, only inches apart, while everyone gawks at them. Within seconds, Archer is back on his feet, prepared to intervene in yet another altercation.
Finn wipes the edge of his mouth, and his tone turns more scathing. “Like you’re doing with Lola? Instead, she’s going to hook up with your stepbrother.”
Silas rears his fist back, but Archer stops him.
“Whoa,” Georgia says. “We all know Lola isn’t hooking up with anyone tonight.”
I grip Finn’s wrist, not only to stop him but also for assistance to stand. “This is not the place. Let’s go.”
Silas pays a glance at me, and his face drops as if he sees the humiliation on mine. “Shit, Grace. I’m sorry.” Regret ripples through his eyes. “I was pissed and—”
“It’s fine.” I run my hands up and down my arms. “I just …” I’m holding in tears. “It’s time for us to go.”
Silas folds his hands together and bows his head. “Really, Grace—”
I stop him again. “You’re sorry. Okay. I get it."
If we don’t leave in a minute, I’m going to break down.
Without another word, Silas turns and storms off.
Finn grips my hand tighter than he ever has. “Someone, go talk to Silas because it damn sure won’t be me tonight. We’ll talk to you guys later.”
People hug me good-bye, telling me not to take Silas’s words to heart. The mood is somber. Something like this has never happened in our group. Sure, there are disagreements. Georgia and Archer hated each other for months, but nothing like this.
Even though our friends have joked about Finn and me liking each other, it’s always been done in humor.
Never in anger.
Never has it sounded so bold and in our faces.
It was a verbal smack of truth straight to the heart.
Silas was right. If Finn and I—not just him—had stopped being scared, maybe I wouldn’t be pregnant with another man’s baby. Even with the pregnancy, even with us faking it, still, neither one of us has told each other our true feelings.
Our steps are rushed as we leave the club.
As I sit in his passenger seat, I open my mouth … then shut it … then open it. No words come to me—except for Silas’s that keep running through my mind. Finn tightly grips the steering wheel and is focused on the road. It’s a quiet ride, the only sound the pop station playing quietly on the radio.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the darkness of the car when he parks in the driveway.
Even though I’m unsure of what exactly I’m apologizing for, I’m sorry for a multitude of things.
Not opening up my heart to Finn when I should’ve.
Getting pregnant by Gavin.
Asking Finn to sacrifice so much because of a decision I made.
Not telling off Silas for his hurtful words.
There’s so much I wish I could take back.
I play with the strap of my bag. “Obviously, Silas was in the wrong for what he said—”
“Nah,” Finn interrupts, resentment in his tone. “Silas was right.”
“What?” I sputter, freezing.
“He was a dick about it—that’s for sure. But that doesn’t mean he was wrong.” He shuts off the car and jerks the keys out. “I should’ve told you my feelings years ago.”
My breathing restricts as tingles rush up my chest. “What are you talking about?”
He shifts to face me, and I wish the darkness didn’t block out his face. “I’m talking about how I’ve been too chickenshit to admit that my heart beats for you, Grace. That it nearly broke me when I found out you were pregnant … and it wasn’t with my baby.”
Silence fills the car as I digest what he just said.
Take in every word of his confession.
Words I’ve wanted to hear for so long, but it almost feels like it’s too late now.
Chapter Twenty-One
Finn
This might not be the ideal place to finally confess my feelings, but it needed to be said. Holding it in for so long had been a mistake.
Grace getting pregnant should’ve been a hard enough smack in the face, but I was stupid. What shoved me over the line? Seeing the heartache on Silas’s face when Lola walked off with Trent. Another push in the right direction was Silas setting my ass straight. His words were harsh but much needed. It was time I stopped pretending, or I’d be the next man watching the woman he loved leave with another man.
It might be too late to change Grace being pregnant, but I can change her not being mine.
Grace is quiet.
Is her silence good? Bad?
Did my honesty scare her?
“Want to go inside?” I unsnap my seat belt. “I hate not being able to see you.”
Turning on the overhead light is an option but still not enough. I want to see every expression that crosses Grace’s face when I lay out my truths to her.
“Yes,” she whispers into the darkness. “Let’s go inside.”
I gulp a mouthful of air before stepping out of my car. Grace does the same, and we meet where her walkway starts. I rest my palm on the curve of her back as we walk up the porch steps and into the house. The door clicks behind us, and I follow her into the living room, flipping on the lights.