Chapter 252
The noise of the club was a dull roar, and under the dim, pulsing lights, Finn’s face went rigid for just a fraction of a second before settling back into its usual calm
mask.
Evangeline couldn’t tell if his silence was a confession or if he was just annoyed that she’d seen right through him. She’d known from the moment she met Finn that he was a master of disguise; if he didn’t want you to know what he was feeling, you wouldn’t.
And right now, he was a locked vault.
She stared into his eyes, searching for a crack in the facade, but found nothing. He was half-reclined against the booth’s leather backrest, his eyelids languidly lowered, casting a faint, misty veil over his beautiful, almond-shaped eyes.
After a beat of hesitation, he finally seemed to register her words. He slowly reached for a glass on the table, drained it in one swallow, and then rose, moving toward her.
Watching him, Evangeline’s body tensed, and on some strange impulse, she stood up too.
Was this it? Was he really going to be this formal about breaking up with her?
It figured. He was giving her the respect of a proper ending. It was probably why, after a string of girlfriends over the years, he had a completely spotless reputation. The man knew how to close a chapter cleanly, which was, she had to admit, strangely admirable.
*Alright,* she thought, steeling herself. *Let’s get the terms straight p>
The breakup was fine, but he couldn’t pull his investment from UME, not yet. As for her mother’s diamond ring, she’d pay him back for it eventually, but she wasn’t giving it back. Not that he’d care about the money; knowing Finn, he wouldn’t give it a second thought.
With her mental checklist complete, she let out a quiet breath.
“Evangeline Finn’s voice was a low, husky rasp.
She braced herself for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. He fell silent. Puzzled, she lifted her head just as a shadow fell over her. Finn’s arm draped over her shoulder, and his entire body suddenly pitched forward.
She didn’t even have time to react. He crashed into her, the force of his dead weight sending them both tumbling back onto the booth’s cushioned seat. “Finn p>
At first, she thought it was some dramatic pose. But seconds passed, and he remained frozen. A sudden panic clenched in her gut.
She pushed at his chest, then patted his cheek. Nothing. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, she held her fingers under his nose.
After a moment of frantic probing, she felt the steady, even rhythm of his breathing. The conclusion hit her with a jolt of disbelief.
He was… drunk. Passed out cold.
Thankfully, their booth was in a secluded corner, and most of the club’s attention was fixated on a chiseled male stripper commanding the dance floor. Hardly anyone had noticed them.
It took every ounce of her strength, but Evangeline finally managed to squirm out from under him. Finn looked so slender, all lean lines and sharp angles, but he was heavier than she could have ever imagined. By the time she was back on her feet, she was gasping for air, her lungs burning.
She stood there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to figure out what to do next. She hadn’t had much to drink, so her head was clear, but her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She couldn’t believe he’d gotten drunk so easily.
Glenn Carlisle was a lightweight too, but he could at least handle a couple of beers with her. And when Glenn got drunk, it was a slow, predictable process. He’d know his limit and would quietly call a cab or an Uber to take him home before he made a fool of himself. Soren, on the other hand, could drink anyone under the table; she’d rarely ever seen him truly drunk.
But Finn? He’d gone from articulate to unconscious in the blink of an eye. She’d never seen anything like it. She was completely at a loss. If she hadn’t opened the bottles herself, she would have sworn someone had slipped something into his drink. But this was the reality, and she had to deal with it.