A Little Secret (The Little Things #4)

Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

FINLEY

V mmm. Vmmm.

My phone vibrates against my nightstand, and I shift toward it against my better judgment. I just got off my shift at Rowdy’s, only to wind up craving a solid veg night instead of meeting up with everyone at SeaBird. Call me a baby, but the chaos from…everything is still fresh, and I don’t have it in me to be social for once. My mom’s name flashes across the screen on the nightstand. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bring it to my ear, answering the call.

“Yes?”

“Hello to you, too,” my mom replies.

I sniff and shift my phone to my other ear. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, baby.”

Baby.

I almost choke on my scoff but stay quiet. It’s a trick I learned from the woman herself. Sometimes, not blurting out whatever’s on your mind is the quickest way to read the other person’s. And I have a hunch I already know the reason for her call .

“So,” she murmurs. “How are… things ?”

“Sneaky,” I note.

“Things are sneaky?”

“No, your innocent question is sneaky,” I muse.

“Who says I’m trying to be sneaky?”

“Did Everett call you?” I push.

A short pause follows, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’m right.

“Maybe,” she finally answers.

“And?”

“And this is my interrogation, missy,” she quips. “How are things? How are you?”

“Not gonna ask about the baby?”

Her breath hitches. “You are my baby.”

My bottom lip wobbles, so I suck it between my teeth and bite down. Hard.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry?—”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she says. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this on your own.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and a tear slips down my cheek.

“I love you so much, Finley. Your dad loves you, too. We love you, and…and damn. This is quite the doozy.”

With a pathetic laugh, I wipe the moisture from my cheeks. “Something like that.”

“How are you feeling? Does the doctor know? How far along are you? Man, I could ask you a thousand questions.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay, let me try this one more time.”

I laugh again. “Okay, I’ll start.”

“I’m ready,” she announces.

“Hello?” I offer.

“Hey, Fin. I miss you,” my mom says.

“I miss you, too. I’m glad you called. ”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” A lump lodges in my throat, but I swallow past it. “I, uh, I actually have some news.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, uh,” I wipe beneath my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. “I’m, uh, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant? Oh, baby, I’m so excited for you!” she gushes. “Let me put you on speaker so you can tell your dad the amazing news, too.”

My watery eyes look at the ceiling as another feeble laugh slips out of me.

“Fin?” my dad’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Fin, you there?”

“Uh, yeah,” I choke out. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Your mom says you have something you want to tell me?”

Digging my teeth into the inside of my cheek, I whisper, “You’re gonna be a grandpa…again.”

“Fuck, baby.” His voice cracks, and just like that, my heart shreds into a million pieces. Because it isn’t filled with disappointment. It’s filled with awe. And pride. And love. So much fucking love I can feel it. “I’m so happy for you, Fin.”

I close my eyes, soaking up his words and exactly how much I needed to hear them. This is why my parents are the best. The way they’re so accepting and welcoming and nonjudgmental. I wipe beneath my nose with my forefinger, grateful I have them to look up to. To ask for parental advice and support. Griffin’s right. I should’ve told them a long time ago.

“When’s your due date?” my mom chimes in.

“I’m, uh, I’m about eight weeks.”

“And how have you been feeling?” my dad prods .

“Normal,” I answer honestly. “So normal, it’s almost freaky.”

“Not freaky. Amazing,” my mom replies. “Honestly, I’m jealous. I was puking my guts out during the majority of my pregnancy with you.”

“Yeah, if anything, I’m more hungry,” I admit, sorting through the last few weeks for any other symptoms, no matter how abnormal they are from what I’d anticipated. “And I want Grandma Taylor’s chocolate chip cookies.”

Their laughter echoes through the speakers, and I catch myself smiling. I missed them. My mom and dad. And the fact that we’re talking about my pregnancy like it’s the most normal thing in the world is so damn refreshing I could cry. Hell, I am crying.

“Why is that funny?” I ask.

“Because it’s the only thing your mom really craved with you and Everett when she was pregnant,” my dad answers. “Must be in your blood.”

“Must be,” I murmur.

“Have you made your first appointment yet?” he prods.

“Not with the OB/GYN,” I admit. “I should, but I’m procrastinating.”

“Yeah, you should probably get on that,” my dad teases. “Gotta make sure my grandbaby is growing big and strong.”

“I will,” I promise.

“That’s my girl.”

“How’s the epilepsy side of things?” my mom continues. “Is that what triggered your episode around Christmas?”

Shifting onto my stomach, I bend my knees, cross my ankles in the air, and rest my chin on my folded arms. It’s crazy. How much has happened. It’s a whirlwind. Catching them up on everything feels…cathartic, but also…like it isn’t enough. A recap of what happened when they shou ld’ve been by my side throughout all of it. If only I hadn’t pushed them away.

“Fin?” my mom prods. “You still here?”

“Yeah, I’m here, and, uh, it’s actually when I found out. I saw the test results, kind of had a mental breakdown, and it’s the last thing I remember.”

“That must have been really scary,” my mom murmurs.

“It was.” Tears cling to my lashes, and I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the memory and all the changes since then. “Griffin was there, though, and…and he’s been really sweet.”

“Aw, baby,” my mom gushes. “He’s a good egg.”

“He is,” I agree.

“Have you talked to your doctor yet? Confirmed your epilepsy medication won’t affect the baby or anything?”

I nod even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, I think so. It’s still early, so we’re just…playing things by ear, I guess.”

“Well, that’s good,” my dad interjects. “How’s, uh, how’s Griff handling things?”

I cover my eyes with my hands and bite back my amusement. “Are you asking if he’s a little nervous to be tied to me for the rest of his life?”

“I’m just asking,” he hedges.

“Yes, Griffin’s handling everything…way better than any other guy in the world,” I answer.

“Figured as much,” my dad replies. “If he wasn’t, Everett would put him in the ground.”

“Which is a very healthy response, by the way,” I quip.

“He loves you,” my dad argues.

With a sigh, I admit, “I know he does. And it’s a good thing I love him back because he’s definitely thrown a wrench in my love life. Did you know he told Griffin to stay away from me when we were younger?”

“That surprises you?” My mom laughs. “The boy’s been overbearing and overprotective since before you could walk, Sweet Pea. You really think he was going to be okay with his best friend dating you? No offense, but we both know if push came to shove, your brother would pick you over anyone, and I mean anyone.” She hesitates. “Okay, before Raine, he’d pick you over anyone else.”

“Ouch,” I say with a laugh.

“Don’t worry. It’s the beauty of true love. He’ll never have to, but you get my point.”

“I guess,” I say, my voice tainted with disbelief. “Although, you didn’t have to make it sting so much. My own flesh and blood choosing their girlfriend over someone as awesome as me? Rude.”

“Whatever,” my mom returns, not even the tiniest bit phased by my sarcasm. Bless her soul. “The good news is, Everett knows Griffin would never hurt you.”

“And we know it, too. Although you could’ve told us,” my dad chimes in.

“So, you’re okay with it?” I prod. “Me dating your friends’ son?”

“Honey, we’ve been rooting for you two for a very long time,” my dad clarifies.

“Thanks,” I murmur. “I, uh, I should get going, though.”

“No worries,” my dad replies. “We just called to catch up and say we love you.”

“Love you, too,” I answer.

“And congratulations!” my mom adds. “We’re so excited it’s not even funny.”

With a smile, I sigh. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say so. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe!”

“See you.”

As I hang up the call, a text appears.

Griffin:

Not to sound creepy and shit, but I can hear you through the wall.

Seriously?

“Tell me you’re joking,” I call.

My phone buzzes.

Griffin

Not joking.

Another text follows right after.

Griffin

We should’ve had the contractors check the insulation because this is borderline creepy.

“Borderline?” I ask aloud.

Griffin

The good news is you’ll never have to masturbate alone again. Just say the word, and I’ll be there in the blink of an eye.

I laugh, take off my shirt, leaving me exposed in a hot pink, lacy bra, lift my phone, and snap a picture. After hitting send, I hold my breath, listening.

A muffled, “Fuck,” echoes through the wall, followed by a door being slammed as I cover my amusement behind my hand. Seriously. It’s like taking candy from a baby. Keeping my eyes glued to my bedroom door, I count to thirty, and sure enough, there he is. Griffin Thorne in all his masculine glory.

He doesn’t wait for an invitation. Hell, the picture was probably invitation enough. He simply jumps onto the bed and climbs on top of me, hooking his fingers around my wrists and bringing them above my head until I’m sprawled beneath him.

“Glad they took the news well,” he murmurs.

“Me, too.”

“Glad they didn’t suggest neutering me, either.”

I grin up at him. “I mean, the news is still fresh, so…”

With a low laugh, he grinds into me. “And how would you come if I was neutered?”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure you keep the dick and lose the balls when neutered, so…”

He rubs himself against me again, and I spread my legs wider, biting back my groan of appreciation. Seriously, though. How does this man make me so freaking weak, and we’re both still fully clothed?

“So, as long as I have my cock, you won’t complain?” he quips.

“Don’t get me wrong. I do like your balls.” I slip out of his hold on my wrists, slide my hand between us, and cup him softly through his joggers. “I also like your mouth and your fingers.” My grip tightens, and his dick twitches in my hold, exactly like I guessed it would.

Eyes rolling back in his head, Griffin thrusts into my hand as he cages me in, resting his weight on his elbows. “Anything else you like, Fin?”

“I mean, you’re kind of easy on the eyes, too.” I lift my chin and nip at his lips. “I also like your determination. And your thoughtfulness. I like the way you hold me and how you’re always thinking of others.” My hand glides along his erection again before I let him go and wrap my arms around his neck. “But most of all, I like your heart, Griffin Thorne.”

“Just like, huh?” Eyes crinkling, he dips closer, kisses my nose, moves onto his haunches, and reaches for my bottoms. I don’t know how he does this. How he manages to turn me on and make me wet with barely a minute of foreplay. Maybe it’s because I know what’s in store. Maybe because I’ve had a bit of a shit day, and I know he can take care of me. Maybe because I spent so long telling myself no when it comes to all things Griffin, it’s refreshing to not have to hide anymore. To be open and vulnerable and…ready. So ready to feel him inside me again.

Slowly, Griff pulls my pants down, and I lift my hips, helping him shimmy them off me until I’m left bare beneath him. As his eyes find my core, his mouth parts, and his gaze meets mine. “My heart likes you, too.”

“Just like, huh?” I ask, tossing his own words back at him.

“You want the truth?” Shoving his joggers down, he reveals his rigid cock, and my mouth waters. With a slow nod of my head, I watch him fist his thick erection—once, twice, three times. Then, he lines up the head with my entrance. Usually, I’d tease the guy for not making sure I’m a ready and willing participant, but he knows me too well, and right now, I’m freaking dripping.

He must feel it, too, because his knuckle brushes against my slit for the briefest of seconds. The corner of his mouth quirks as he pushes inside of me, one inch after another, watching as his cock disappears into my heat. My heels dig into the mattress, and I lift my hips to meet him, anxious to feel the familiar burn and stretch. I love this part. The closeness. The rhythm. The way my breathing turns ragged, and his pistoning movements push me over the edge.

“Pretty sure you own this heart, Fin,” he rasps.

“Pretty sure you can stop with the sappy stuff,” I tease. “You’re already getting laid, Griff.” I wiggle beneath him, proving my point. “Now, are you gonna fuck me or what? ”

His chuckle is low and raspy as he shakes his head back and forth. “Not gonna fuck you, Fin.”

I close my eyes, savoring the way my body stretches around him while silently willing his body to start moving. “Then, what would you call this?”

“This is making love.”

“Did you…” I gasp as he fully seats himself inside of me. “Did you just get super corny on me?”

“Telling you I’m making love to you is corny?”

“I mean…” His cock drags out of my channel, and he thrusts into me again. It isn’t hard and fast. It’s torturously slow, causing my lungs to bottom out with need and frustration and want. So much fucking want it’s not even funny. Fisting the sheets, I peek up at him and point out, “Well, would you look at that. This is doing it for me. Apparently, corny and horny are a good mix.”

He snorts. “Did you just rhyme?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Corny. Horny. Thorney. Ha!” I smack his butt, urging him to keep his pace. “Come on, Thorney. Make me come, Thorney. You’re such a peach, Thorney.” I grin up at him. “Yup, I’m definitely a poet in the bedroom. Now, come on. Pick up the pace, boyfriend.”

“I like it when you call me boyfriend.”

“And I like it when you fuck me.”

He stops moving. “Not fucking you, remember?”

“Feels like fucking,” I muse. “Or at least, it would if you kept thrusting these hips, boyfriend.” I grab his ass and squeeze, but the bastard doesn’t budge.

“Say you love me back,” he orders.

“I’m sorry, did I miss that part?” I bat my lashes up at him. “Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t drop the L-word.”

“I alluded to it.”

“Alluded, huh? Sounds like a technicality to me.”

“Not gonna say it?” he prods .

My eyes narrow. “Say what?”

His mouth twitches along with his cock, and I nearly choke on my moan.

“I see what you’re trying to do here,” I grit out.

“And what am I trying to do?”

“Trying to get me to admit it first. Very sneaky, Thorney.”

With a scoff, he eases into me again, driving me insane. “Please tell me that nickname doesn’t stick.”

“Leaving me horny while being corny, Mister Thorney.” I laugh. “I mean, the poem practically writes itself.”

Leaning closer, he drags his teeth against my throat, then laps at the small scrape. “Pretty sure I should find poetry while my cock’s buried inside you a turn-off.”

“Yet here you are,”—I skate my fingernails beneath his gray T-shirt up and along his spine—“stalling because you don’t want to be a two-pump chump, am I right?”

Lifting his head, he quirks his brow. “Are you rhyming again?”

I grin. “Maybe.”

He grips my thigh and tugs it higher around his waist. With a hard push of his hips, he thrusts deeper into me until I’m pretty sure I can feel his cock in my eyeballs.

“Ooookay, sir.” My jaw drops at the intrusion, and he rocks his hips, pressing his pubic bone against my clit. “Yup. That’ll do.”

His mouth finds my neck again, and he sucks softly. “I love you, too.”

My eyes fall back in my head as I try to focus on our conversation instead of the fact that I’m pretty sure he’s never been deeper. “I didn’t say it.”

“Yeah, but we both know you’re thinking it.” He lifts his head and kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth while I suck at it greedily. When he pulls away, I groan in frustration, and he adds, “Who else would appreciate this smart mouth?”

My face scrunches. Because first of all, he most definitely appreciates my smart mouth. When it’s on his cock, or when I use it to get myself into trouble. Like right now. Because boy, am I in trouble when it comes to my feelings for this man. And it’s funny, because he has no idea. How many times I would say something snarky or sarcastic or just plain old ludicrous, and Drew would only return it with a look that made me feel…stupid. And I never let it get to me. I’d simply shrug it off, assuming it’s a normal reaction. But with Griff? It’s different. It’s always been different, and I always wrote those differences off, telling myself it’s because he’s known me longer. Of course, he understands my sense of humor, but now? Now, I see it for what it really is. Yes, he’s known me my entire life, but he doesn’t just get my sense of humor. He gets me. All of me. My quirks. My perception of things. My sense of humor. My beliefs. And he doesn’t simply understand it. He accepts it. He values it. He values me.

Lips bunching on one side, I stare up at him, slipping my hands out from beneath his shirt and skating my fingers across his five o’clock shadow as he slowly pumps into me.

“Say it again,” I whisper.

“I love you, too, Fin.”

Too.

Smartass.

“Hey, Griff?” I murmur.

“Yeah?”

I tighten my grip on his jaw and tug him into me. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

Kissing him, I pull him into me even more. Until we’re chest to chest. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. And it’s never felt more real or genuine. This moment. This connection. I’ve never had it with anyone else, and I refuse to ever take it for granted again.

He’s right. This isn’t fucking. This is making love, and until this moment, I never knew the difference. The bed squeaks as we move together on the mattress, and within minutes, I can feel the familiar buzz beneath my skin. The tremors of my core. The unsteady breaths echoing off the walls. We’re close. Both of us. Our pace quickens as he brands my mouth in a punishing kiss, digging his fingers into my waist as he pushes me higher and higher.

My back arches as I fall apart beneath him, letting him use my body any fucking way he wants until the familiar twitch of his cock and tightness of his muscles proves he’s coming, too. Seconds later, he collapses on top of me, careful not to squish me entirely as he catches his breath against the nape of my neck.

“So fucking much.”

“Hmm?” I ask with a laugh.

“I love you so fucking much,” he clarifies.

My smile stretches, and I close my eyes. “So fucking much, Griff.”