Looking slightly agitated, Finn suddenly runs a hand through his thick mahogany colored hair which is cut short on the sides and left longer on top as his greenish-brown eyes drill into mine. “Just do me a favor and stay away from him, Ivy. Roan is nothing more than a douchebag player and everyone at Barnett knows it. He’ll nail anything with a heartbeat and he doesn’t look back once he does. You’re way too good for that.”
I can’t figure out if it’s jealousy or genuine concern that has him issuing the warning. Softly I say, “I appreciate the advice, Finn, but I have zero interest in the guy.”
Okay… so that isn’t altogether true because he’s absolutely gorgeous but after that first run in with him (and obviously the second), I’d already figured out he was the worst kind of trouble there is. And in the subsequent days since, my opinion has only solidified. People just naturally seem to flock to him. Especially girls. Every time I’ve caught a glimpse of him around campus, there have been at least three or four girls vying for his attention.
Thankfully we haven’t had any more exchanges since that party. Not only have I been avoiding Finn, I’ve been avoiding Roan as well. It also helps that I’m taking eighteen credits, working ten hours a week at On Pointe, and spending every spare moment I can in the dance studio working on chorography.
I just don’t have time to dwell on a cheating ex-boyfriend or the campus demi god.
Apparently satisfied with my answer, Finn’s big shoulders slowly relax as he settles back in his chair. His eyes probe mine before he quietly admits, “I really missed you, Ivy.” Now that we’ve settled the whole Roan King issue, the sad puppy dog look is back in full force.
I almost snort. All those damn photos filed away in a computer folder titled- douchebag ex-boyfriend tell a completely different story. I’m not even sure why he’s bothering to go back down this road again.
Instead of responding, I merely raise a brow as I suck my straw.
His eyes fall to my lips and remain there for a long drawn out moment before swinging back up to mine. “I know I broke things off right after you left for Paris.” His brows draw together as he pauses. “I guess it was just too hard to think about having a long distance commitment when we’d only been together for about six months.”
I’d been plagued with the same thoughts. But I had really liked Finn and had at least wanted to try and make things work between us. Rather foolishly I had hoped he liked me enough to want that as well. Instead, he’d baled within two weeks (if not sooner), leaving me to feel disconnected and depressed.
Which, in hindsight, had been just plain crazy because I’d been in Paris, for god’s sake. Who the hell can be all sad bastard in Paris? Well… yeah, me apparently. After a few weeks of moping around, I’d pulled myself out of the funk I’d slid into by walking around the city and immersing myself in the rich culture.
“I was kind of hoping we could give it another shot, you know? Pick up where we’d left off.” Slowly he reaches across the table before laying his big hand over mine. “I still care about you, Ivy.” Something changes in his eyes. There’s a look of vulnerability filling his gaze I find almost impossible to ignore. “Do you still have feelings for me?”
For a long moment I simply stare down at our stacked hands as I contemplate the question.
Do I still have feelings for Finn?
We broke up almost fifteen months ago and were basically incommunicado for the entire time I was gone. I had relegated Finn McKenzie to the just a guy I had once dated category. No one was more surprised than me when he started bombarding me with text messages about a week before I came home.
But after the way he’d hurt me, there was no way I was responding. In fact, I do believe the words- he can go screw himself were bandied about in my conversations with Lexie more than a few times.
And yeah, part of me does still feel that way… but I can’t deny that I’m suddenly feeling torn. I mean, we were together for six months… Not to mention those pathetic puppy dog eyes he keeps casting my way…
I can practically feel myself caving.
Taking a deep breath, I force it out slowly before replying truthfully, “I don’t know, Finn.” My eyes fasten onto his as I allow him a small glimpse of my heartache. “The way you just ended things,” I begin softly, “I was away from everything, everyone I knew, trying to get acclimated to a totally different culture. What you did felt devastating at the time.” Even thinking about it, brings back a surge of anger and sadness within me.