Pressed against his chest, she could feel his heart beating heavily and she closed her eyes. As the song slowly faded out, another song kicked in and she was dragged away from Ryan and into the arms of her dad.
“How’s my girl?” He beamed down at her, spinning her quickly away as a livelier tune began.
Ryan’s eyes held hers until the crowd swallowed him up and she couldn’t see him anymore.
Fin rolled over in bed and glared at the clock. Two a.m. glared right back at her. Bunching her pillow, she huffed as she tried to find the peace that eluded her.
Her bedroom door opened so quietly she wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t seen the brief flicker of moonlight stream through.
She sat up, brushing tousled waves from her face as it clicked shut. Her eyes fell on Ryan walking silently to her bed. In a pair of sweatpants, his chest was bare. Muscled ridges, tattoos and deep scars greeted her as he reached her bedside.
“Ryan?”
“Shhh,” he whispered softly and lifting up the sheet, climbed into bed beside her. He tugged her close.
Fin put her hands between them, splaying them flat on his chest. The heat of him burned her skin. “Ryan … Ian is—”
“Don’t say his name. Tonight you’re mine. If Ian wanted you as much as he f**king claims he does, he’d be here right now where I am, dragging out every last minute he could get with you.” Ryan’s hands slid down the small of her back and underneath the elastic of her panties until his hands gripped her ass. “He’d be the one touching you.” He leaned in and bit her earlobe sharply before licking it better and she shivered. “He’d be the one tasting you,” he breathed in her ear. “But he’s not here. I am. I’m the one touching you. I’m the one holding you, because you’ve never been his.”
Ryan’s mouth travelled across her jaw until it hovered over hers.
“Kiss me, Fin,” he whispered against her lips. “Please.”
Tears burned her eyes at his desperate plea. Hardly daring to breathe, she pressed her lips lightly against his. Ryan groaned at the touch and crushed his mouth down on hers. Fin opened her mouth under his, and when his tongue touched hers, she moaned. Her hands slid from his chest, downwards, until they were tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. Shuddering, Ryan reached up and fisted her hair, tilting her head as he kissed her hard.
When he pulled back, he was breathing heavy, his lips swollen. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
Her chest tightened under the intensity of his eyes. “So are you.”
Ryan shook his head as he hovered over her in the bed. “I carry scars, Fin, both inside and out.”
“Everyone’s perception of beauty is different.”
“Fin, I—”
She cut him off, kissing him, and he groaned, his body pressing her into the bed. He slid his hand between them, skimming down until he reached the edge of her panties. He broke the kiss, panting hard as he fumbled with the elastic before sliding his hand between her thighs.
Ryan groaned as he touched the slick heat of her.
“Ryan, I can’t …” She drew in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t be the person that does this to someone else. I want you so much, but the guilt. I don’t know if I can—”
“Stop,” he whispered. He slid his hand from her panties and buried his face in her neck. She could feel his hot breath as he shuddered against her, fighting for control.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Please don’t be sorry,” he mumbled against her skin. “Don’t ever be sorry. Guilt is the one thing I can’t let you live with, baby. I won’t do that to you, even if it kills me.”
Fin swallowed the lump in her throat. After a beat of silence, she asked, “Ryan, will you stay?”
Ryan nodded wordlessly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until it was almost difficult to breathe under the heat of his body. She turned, her lips brushing his, and he licked along her bottom lip before kissing her softly.
He closed his eyes briefly. “Be safe out there, Fin.”
“You too, Ryan.”
Wound tightly together, they drifted off to sleep, and when five a.m. came, Fin got up and dressed quietly. A light tap came at her bedroom door. Picking up her bag, her hand fell on the door handle and she turned, her eyes taking in Ryan where he lay sleeping heavily. He’d rolled onto his stomach, revealing more tattoos and thick muscle. One hand rested beneath the pillow, the other fisted near his face. His dark hair, cut so short when he arrived, was starting to grow. It made him look like the young boy he used to be.
Fin tucked the memory away and opened the bedroom door. Slipping out quietly, she pulled it shut behind her.
“Ready to go?” Jake asked softly.
No. She ached to feel Ryan’s eyes on her one last time, see his smile, and feel his lips against hers. He was just metres away from her, yet an ocean already lay between them.
Fin closed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
Jake picked up the last of her bags from the hallway and grinned at her.
“Did you pack your Supergirl suit for those special occasions?”
She chuckled through tears. “I love you, Jake.”
Slinging his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her in for a hard hug. “Love you too, honey.”
Chapter Seven
Six months later
Fremantle, Western Australia
Dusk was falling when Fin fitted the key in the lock and swung the front door wide.
“I’m home!” she called out. Her voice echoed through the empty space as she wheeled her bags through and tossed her keys on the side table. Slamming the door shut behind her, she walked down the hallway. A glance to her left showed Jake’s empty room, the bed stripped down. Farther down, a glance inside the guest room where Ryan had slept was just as empty.
She walked in the room and closed her eyes, trailing her fingers over the bare mattress. Nothing was left behind, not even the scent of him to remind her he’d even been there.
The phone rang and with a shake of her head, Fin left the room. Fumbling through her bag, she picked it up and answered.
“Finlay?”
“Mum.”
“You’re home, honey? Why didn’t you ring us to come get you?”
Fin walked into the kitchen and reached up, pulling down a bottle of red from her little wine rack. “It’s fine. I just caught a cab.”
“Oh,” her mum muttered, disappointment obvious. “Well. When do we get to see you?”
Fin poured wine into her glass. “Tomorrow? I’m tired, Mum. It’s been a long day.”
“Okay. Lunch?”
“Sounds good. How’s Crookshanks?”
“Your devil cat is just fine.”
Fin sighed as she rested her hip against the kitchen counter. “What’s he done now?”
“He’s clawed grooves into the whole left side of your father’s favourite recliner.”
Fin smothered a laugh. “Poor Dad. I don’t think Crookshanks likes him.”
“That’s an understatement,” her mother muttered.
“Alright, Mum. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Bye, honey.”
Pushing away from the counter, Fin got to the task of unpacking her suitcase and sorting what needed to be washed. The last thing to come out was the present from Rachael and Laura, buried beneath as many layers of clothes as she could manage. She should have known that the so-called best present that ever lived was one that required batteries. Her face still flamed just thinking about the way the security attendant looked her over while her luggage was being X-rayed. He’d followed it up with a suggestive wink after handing over her bags, leaving her baffled until she arrived at Casey Station and opened the gift.
After relegating the box to the bottom drawer of her bedside table, Fin picked up her laptop and carried it to the living room along with her wine.
After sitting it on the coffee table, she switched it on and the desktop photo greeted her: Ryan in his military uniform; Fin’s gold dress shimmering under the lights as he held her close. Their smiles were bright for the camera, but she could see the sadness in his eyes.
Tapping at the keyboard, she called up the email Ryan sent six weeks ago. It was the only one she’d received from him since she left.
Fin,
We’ve been called up early.
Heading back to Afghanistan in two weeks.
To be honest I can’t wait. Being here when you’re not is like another kind of war because you’re everywhere—your face, your smile, the sweet smell of you. Only it’s a war I can’t seem to fight.
Don’t hope for us, Fin. Please. I can’t have you wasting your life waiting for someone who might never return, and remember what I told you once before—don’t let anyone stop you from being who you need to be.
Be safe.
Ryan
Every time she read over the words, it brought an ache to her chest, and every time she tried to reply, she could never find the words she needed to say.
Jabbing angrily at the keyboard, she closed the email. Instead, she called up the email from Jake that he sent just before they left.
Finny,
I read your last blog post. Nice photos. I wasn’t really sure if that was you in a giant, fluoro parka or just a big orange in the snow. I’m voting for orange.
I showed everyone here your photo of the Southern Lights. Kyle thinks you’re in the wrong career and should be a photographer for National Geographic, but he’s probably just hoping to one day get in your pants so don’t let him near you.
I’m honestly hurt that Tanner thinks so low of me. You can trust me, Fin - Kyle.
As I was saying—don’t let him near you!
Dad pitched a shit fit when I dropped Crookshanks off at their place. You know they’ve never seen eye to eye. I can rest happy knowing I’ve been knocked off the number one position on Dad’s shit list. That honour now belongs to you.
Hope you got home safe. Dad was going to mow the lawns for you, but if you’ve come home to overgrown weeds, you’ll know why.
Love you,
Jake.
Picking up her wine, Fin sipped at it as she flicked the television on. With the background noise for company, she tapped out a reply.
Jake,
Home safe. No overgrown weeds noted. Maybe that means when I pick up Crookshanks tomorrow his fur will be shaved off. Mum’s just told me he clawed the shit out of Dad’s recliner, so the two of us will be lying low for a while.
An orange? I guess I’ll have to return the penguin I brought home for you. Better yet, tell Kyle I said the penguin is now his.
It’s really quiet without you here. Miss you. How long are you gone for this time?
Love you too and be safe.
Fin xo
A knock came at the door as she hit send. Standing up, she walked down the hallway and swung it open.
“Ian.”
He stood there, olive green cargo shorts, black fitted shirt, his blond hair mussed from running his fingers through it. He swallowed, his eyes softening as they roamed over her. “Welcome home, baby.”
She stepped aside to let him through. He held her eyes for a moment before walking down the hallway towards the couch she’d just left. As he sat down, he grabbed her hips, yanking her onto his lap.