A Little Secret (The Little Things #4)

Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

FINLEY

T he walls shake as Griffin guides me out the front door. We played beer pong, which I usually thrive at, thanks to subbing the beer with Diet Coke. But after losing my reigning champion title to a couple of bombed puck bunnies, I decided to call it a night.

Yeah, I’m a sore loser. So sue me.

There are benefits to living next door to your boyfriend, and when I’m peopled out, a short walk like this is definitely one of them.

Okay, peopled out is probably the wrong term. More like bone tired with a side of my-brain-feels-like-it-was-dipped-in-pudding-and-thinking-straight-is-impossible, but hey. Semantics. After celebrating tonight’s win, being bombarded with a billion questions and congratulations from my friends, and not-so-subtly noticing my brother’s absence at the party, I’m officially exhausted.

“You talked to Raine, right?” Griffin asks for what feels like the millionth time.

I nod. “Yeah. How was Ev at the game? What’d he say? ”

“He’s…handling it,” Griffin mutters. “Really wish he’d answer my calls, though.”

I’m not the only one who’s been distracted by Everett’s absence. Griffin’s been glued to his phone all night. Texting. Calling. Trying to reach Everett despite my conversation with Raine.

“You’re not exactly making me feel better,” I point out. “When I spoke with Raine, she said he’s okay, and they were staying home to celebrate on their own.” My nose scrunches. “Which, when I put it that way… Maybe I should sleep at your place.”

I wait for Griffin’s familiar laughter or, at the very least, an invitation to spend the night, but when I’m only greeted with silence, I glance at him. His nose is still in his phone, and he looks…stressed.

I grab his wrist, forcing him to lower his phone-wielding hand. “Hey.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Rising onto my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his. “You played well tonight.”

“Thanks.”

“And you wanted to play well,” I continue.

“I know I did.”

“So, what’s wrong, Griff?”

With a quiet sigh, he pulls me closer, letting me steal his body heat as the cold breeze seeps through our coats. “Ev said he’s gonna pull his name.”

My brows raise. “What?”

“I wanted to come clean about the Lions thing, but when I told him, he said he was gonna pull his name, and?—”

“He can’t do that.”

“I know he can’t.”

“That isn’t fair to him. ”

“I know it isn’t,” he murmurs. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of him all night, but…”

“But he’s ignoring you because he knows you’re going to try and talk him out of it,” I finish.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

He frowns. “Yeah. Shit.”

“Well, then he probably isn’t doing much celebrating with Raine.” The cold metal handle causes a shiver to race up my spine as I start to push the front door open. “Let me see if I can talk to him.” I hesitate and turn back to Griffin. “Are you okay if I do this alone?”

“You sure you don’t need me?”

“I mean, I’ll always need you, but yeah. I think it’s best if I have a sisterly chat with him, one on one.”

“Whatever you think, Fin.” He bends closer and kisses me softly. “I’ll keep my phone on me. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will,” I promise.

The house is quiet. Tiptoeing down the hall, I go to the bathroom and give myself a mental pep talk when a soft squeak from my bedroom catches my attention. Moving closer, I peek through the cracked door, finding Everett sitting on my bed.

The hinges creak as I push the door open the rest of the way and lean my shoulder against the doorjamb. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Everett grumbles.

“What are you doing in my room?”

“Wanted to…talk.”

“Talk,” I repeat. “Okay, so…talk.”

“Not sure what to say.” His head continues hanging between his shoulders as he stares at his hands. Hell, he’s a statue. A very grumpy looking statue.

“Are you still mad at me?” I ask.

“Disappointed.”

Rolling my eyes, I push myself away from the doorway and walk into my room. “Not sure that’s any better, but thanks.”

“In myself, not you,” he clarifies.

“Are you serious?” My frown deepens. “Why are you disappointed in yourself?”

“Because I pride myself on being a good big brother, and I fucked up in every. Single. Way.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t have handled today in a worse way, Fin. I yelled. I stormed off. I made you feel like shit.”

“You didn’t?—”

“I did,” he argues. “I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings, Fin, but I know I hit below the belt today.”

He’s right. He did. But seeing him like this? It doesn’t make me feel any better. Honestly, it makes me feel even worse. He’s always been hard on himself. The man who thinks he can carry the weight of everyone’s world on his shoulders, come hell or high water. And it appears right now is no different.

“You were angry I lied to you,” I offer. “You had every right to feel that way.”

“You’re not irresponsible, Fin.”

The reminder is like a knife twisting between my ribs, but I fight the urge to rub at my sternum and face my brother. “I mean…” My shoulder lifts in a half-assed shrug. “I did get pregnant way too young.”

He chuckles dryly, finally gifting me with a glimpse of his eyes that match our father’s. “Yeah, but you’re you. Of course, you did shit backward. But you’re you ,” he emphasizes. “I should know better than to assume you can’t handle whatever’s thrown at you. You’ve been doing it your whole life, Fin. Your epilepsy. Dealing with me as a brother.” He smirks. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

A burn hits the back of my eyes, and I collapse onto the bed beside him, surprised by the waterworks and how much his words mean to me. I’ve always been closest to Everett. I mean, yeah. My half-sisters are awesome. But the age gap made Miley and Hazel feel more like aunts than actual siblings. But Ev? He’s my ride or die. Always has been. And hearing something as simple as his confidence in my ability to be a good mom means more than he’ll ever know. Especially right now. When it couldn’t feel further from the truth.

Me? A mom? Let alone a good mom? The title feels so…unattainable. Like I’ve received a job offer not only way out of my league, but I didn’t even apply for it in the first place.

“I like the vote of confidence, but I don’t know about?—”

“I do.” With a reassuring smile, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close. “You’re going to be a great mom, Fin. Those are the first words that should’ve come out of my mouth, but they didn’t, and that’s on me. I’m sorry.”

“You’re more than forgiven,” I murmur.

“Good.” He lets me go. “And I’m gonna be a kickass uncle.”

“You already are,” I point out, reminding him of Miley’s and Hazel’s kids.

“Yeah, I know. But this kid?” He pauses. “This little kid is gonna be spoiled rotten.” Leaning closer, he drops his voice lower. “And my favorite. I promise.”

With a quiet laugh, I look down at my stomach. It’s still the same. Part of me wishes it would look different. Like I swallowed a watermelon or something. That I could skip the pudgy stage and go straight to the that girl’s definitely pregnant stage. Maybe it would make this feel more real. Less unknown. Instead, I’m caught in the between. The what ifs. The maybes.

Sobering, I admit, “It’s scary.”

“I know it is.” He pauses. “I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” I lift my gaze and smile. “Seriously.”

“And, Fin?” he adds. “I’m happy for you and Griff. I know I’ve been a dick on that front, too, and I know you’re not one to need my approval on shit, but you have it.”

My smile widens, and I bump my shoulder against his. “Thanks, Ev.”

“Did he, uh, did he mention potentially being traded to the Lions?” he prods.

I nod. “Maybe.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“I feel…” My brows bunch as I honestly consider his question. The idea of Griffin staying. The idea of us raising this baby together. Close to family and friends and doctors and school. “Honestly, if it works, I think it would be great.”

“You two are solid?”

“Solid as we can be, considering the circumstances.”

“Good.” He gives me a hesitant smile. “He’s a shoo-in.”

Pressing my lips together, I study him carefully. The creases at the corner of eyes. The slight twitch of his jaw. “What about you?” I question. “Griff mentioned that you also reached out to Uncle Henry.”

“He did, did he?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“That isn’t an answer,” I argue.

“You really think I’d put my career on the line for anything? ”

He starts to stand, but I grab his wrist and hold him in place. “For the people you love? Yes. Yes, I do.”

“My career is just fine, Fin.”

Bullshit.

I’d laugh if he wasn’t such a terrible liar. There are pros and cons to voicing what I’ve heard through the grapevine instead of keeping it close to the chest, but I don’t bother weighing them. Why? Because there aren’t enough pros in the world to potentially stand in the way of everything my brother’s worked so hard for. Not when I’ve had front-row seats to every practice. Every early morning weight session. Every game. Not to mention being up close and personal when it comes to his relationship with Raine. Before they met, Ev was even more bullheaded, convinced that if he wasn’t the one to carry his loved one’s burdens, then he had no use in the world. Yet here he is, reverting back to his chivalrous—and very problematic—habit of being the martyr.

I won’t let him.

Not even for me.

And so, before I can talk myself out of it, I blurt out, “Griff said you’re gonna pull your name.”

His jaw locks, but he doesn’t look at me, proving me right. “Of course he did.”

“You can’t.”

“Fin, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me clarify. I won’t let you do that.”

“You’re not the boss?—”

“Uh, first of all, I’m one hundred and ten percent the boss, but it’s cute you don’t think I am. Now, if you don’t promise me?—”

“It’s too late.”

My expression falls as my body tenses, and the familiar beat of my heart echoes in my ears. Too late? It can’t be too late. He can’t throw his future away all because of me. All because I’m pregnant, and Griffin lied, saying he’s the father so he can stay close to me. To us.

“Ev—”

“I’m good, Fin,” he interrupts. “Raine’s good. I already talked to her, and?—”

“No. No, you’re not good, and Raine’s not good, and I’m not good?—”

“Fin—”

“Don’t Fin me,” I snip, losing my earlier sass and replacing it with full-blown bitch mode because this is ridiculous. He can’t fall on a proverbial sword and sacrifice his future for me. It isn’t fair to him or Raine or…anyone. With a huff, I argue, “Yes, I am having a baby, and yes, it would be more convenient if Griffin was here, and yes, I would love to keep my same doctors, but I’m a big girl, and I’m more than capable of handling this pregnancy no matter where Griffin plays next season, so don’t you dare bend over backward under the guise of helping me when I’m the one who got into this mess in the first place, do you hear me?”

He smiles. It stretches slowly across his face and is almost genuine enough to cover the smallest hint of disappointment and resignation shining back at me. Almost.

“Love you, little sister.”

“Did you already pull your name?” I demand.

“Fin.”

“Did you already pull your name?” I repeat, elbowing him in the ribs. “Answer the question.”

“Not yet, but?—”

“No buts,” I snap. “And no talking. Not until I’m finished.”

His eye twitches, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Good,” I say. “Now, you know me, and you know I can be a hell of a lot more stubborn than you if I need to, so listen up and listen closely. I am a big girl. And you are a big boy. You are going to let me handle my future like a grown-up, and I’m going let you handle your future like a grown-up. Independently of each other. Do you know what that means?” I don’t wait for him to answer. I simply barrel forward. “It means you are not going to call Uncle Henry and pull your name. You’re going to accept the fact that you and Griffin played incredibly well tonight, and you are going to accept the fact that either one of you would be an excellent fit for the Lions. You’re also going to accept that, no matter the outcome, all parties will be excited for one another. And lastly, you are going to accept the fact that I do not need to be babied to be supported. You telling me you love me and offering to spoil my baby is all the support I want. Do you understand?”

His brows kick up as I finish my monologue. “Am I allowed to talk now?”

“Depends. Are you going to give me a hug and say you agree to my terms, or are you going to try and overstep your bounds like you usually do despite Raine’s insistence that you really are getting better about the whole overprotective thing?”

Eyes narrowing, he scratches his jaw. “Does Griff really find this cute?”

With a cheeky grin, I toss my hair over my shoulder. “First of all, I’m adorable?—”

“And a pain in the ass.”

My grin grows. “Obviously. Now, stop trying to change the subject. Promise you won’t pull your name.”

“Fin.” Rubbing at the corner of his eye, he sighs.

“Promise me,” I push.

“I want you to be happy. ”

“Glad the feeling’s mutual,” I quip. “And I will be happy as long as you don’t pull your name.”

Another low sigh escapes him. “Fine.”

“Fine…?”

“Fine, I won’t pull my name,” he grumbles.

“Promise?”

With a groan, he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Yes. I promise.”

My mouth splits into a grin. “Thank you.”

“I’d say you owe me, but…”

“But I already saved you from making a huge mistake?” I offer. “Yeah. I know. I’m awesome. Now, give me a hug.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me close, his muscles softening. “Love you, little sister.”

“Love you, too, big brother.”