Page 80 of Love Bound

Finn gently takes the lead from me and coils it expertly, hanging it on the wooden peg. Then he takes an arm and slips it around my waist from behind. "Geo told me what happened that day." He presses his chin to the top of my head, and I resolutely decide not to think about it. "He told me last month when I asked about what to do for your birthday. I knew it was coming up sometime."

"You called him about my birthday?" I ask him.

"He didn't betray you. I never got a date out of him. He just mysteriously said ‘summer.’"

"But you called him?" I ask.

"We text."

"I don’t believe Geo texts." Geo could hardly figure out the remote on his television.

"Well, he's learned. I was in town getting supplies and we chatted about your birthday. He wants to come up tomorrow," Finn says.

"Well, he can come up, but that's it. Just don’t do anything else."

"I'm sorry about Chloe. I figured she was a runaway."

My anger over the years has faded into reticence, or maybe some odd form of resignation. I don’t handle betrayal well. It's another reason I hardly ever date. "She ran away from us. To something else." I pause. "To someone else."

"I want to do something for you. It's important," Finn says.

I try to shrug him off, but he takes another arm and wraps it tight around me. For some reason, a hot lump starts to form deep in my throat. "It's not important. It's just a day."

His voice is quiet, strong, and powered by truth. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have a birthday," he says. "We're doing something special."

I feel his heart thudding against my ear and I turn around to face him, burying my head in his shoulder.

"I want to celebrate life with you. Your life," he whispers, and then, as I lift my chin, he reaches for my face and kisses me so deeply my clit suddenly swells and I'm wet.

I reach up under his T-shirt and pull him to me, feeling his back. The even curve of his spine and the muscle knitted there. And that ever-present heart, beating hard, fast, alive—and for me.

"You like kissing too much," chirrups Cory, who’s been playing in the water bucket. He doesn’t like kissing at all. His version is to stand with his eyes closed and smack his lips.

As we break apart, I think Cory's right. No one should like kissing this much.

"I want to go to the store," Cory says suddenly. The store means home and I feel bad. We must have made him uncomfortable.

"I'll be right back," I say, pulling away.

"I can go myself," he says, looking right at me.

Laurel's been working with him on eye contact, having him look at a picture of a bird and then, she quickly puts down the card and looks him in the eye. It's her own therapy, but I think it's working.

"It's okay," I say, letting go of Finn. "I'll walk you home."

"To the store," Cory corrects me. "I do it myself."

"We’ll stand in the driveway and watch you," says Finn in a voice that's firm and offers no wiggle room.

And with that, Cory waves to the ground, "Bye-bye!" and takes off, running down the driveway to the dirt road.

We follow, watching him cross the asphalt, look both ways, and then cross to the sidewalk.

I have to let go of Finn's hand to call my sister about this new development. If I stand at the end of the road, there's a better chance the call won’t get dropped.

"I'm watching him now,” I say. “He's talking to Cappy."

Laurel's voice is tense. "Okay, but next time, you tell me first. I'm going downstairs now."