“Faith?” Stephen called into the room.

No way would someone like him come into the ladies restroom. Instead, I could hear him standing outside the door. The noise from the theater lobby spilled into the bathroom and echoed off of the walls.

I moved to open the door, but Finn stopped me and held his finger against his lips, telling me to be quiet.

Stephen called my name into the bathroom once more before the door shut and the room became quiet again.

“Finn, I can’t stay in here. I have to go back.”

“Stay.” He swallowed hard and his eyes glistened.

I’d never seen him this way. He looked vulnerable and it broke my heart. From what I knew of him over the past few weeks we spent together in church, he wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, but something was scaring him, and I suddenly had the urge to comfort him—to make him smile and bring life into his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Finn? You can tell me whatever it is.” I ran my fingers through his tousled hair.

Closing his eyes, he let out a quiet gasp, as if my fingers were the best thing he’d ever know. When he opened his baby blues again, they collided with mine and then something unexpected happened. A single tear wobbled on his lashes before escaping and rushing down his cheek.

I cupped his cheek and caught his tear with my thumb. “Sweetie, please tell me what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Again, he closed his eyes as if he were feeling pleasure before opening them again and showing his pain.

“Say it again,” he said roughly, as if tears were clogging his throat.

“Say what?”

“Call me sweetie.”

The expression on his face pulled at my heart. I wanted more than anything to make it go away.

“You’re scaring me, Finn. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, just tell me. Let me try to make it better.”

He surprised me as he leaned over and rested his head against my shoulder. His breath was hot against my neck and I couldn’t stop the chills that rushed through my body. I was hot and cold all over and the strange pulling sensation in my stomach left me feeling dizzy.

Sliding his arms around my waist, he molded himself to me. I had to admit, it felt amazing to be held that way. I pressed the back of my head into the door and cupped the back of his head in comfort.

“I’m sorry I’m scaring you. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I swear I’d never do anything to hurt you, ever. I’ll be okay if you promise to stay. Don’t go with Stephen. Please stay.”

I melted all over. Finn, the most careless person I knew, was holding me in a manner I wasn’t familiar with and begging me to stay with him as if he cared. I wanted to. I wanted to stay there with him, locked in the theater bathroom. Just the two of us in peace and quiet while the world outside moved on without us, but then I remembered that Stephen was out searching for me. He’d probably already called my dad, freaking out.

“Finn, I can’t. He’s outside waiting on me. I can’t do that to him.”

He looked up at me. His eyes still weren’t focusing and briefly I thought maybe the only reason he was acting like this was because he was drinking.

“Him? Don’t do this to me. Please, Faith, stay.” He pulled away and leaned against the wall. I hadn’t noticed before how badly he was slurring and leaning.

I’d never seen a drunk person before, other than on TV, but I was positive he was drunk.

“How did you get here?” I asked.

He peeked up through his hair, then laid his flushed face against the tile wall. “I drove.”

“You drove drunk?”

I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Who would do such an idiotic thing?

He chuckled to himself and then finally smiled. His cheeks lifted and his beautiful dimples showed themselves. Even unsteady on his feet, with unfocused, glazed-over eyes, he was still gorgeous.

“Baby, I’ve done a lot worse.” His grin became sinister.

“How are you supposed to get home?”

No way was I letting him drive home. He’d once made sure I made it home safely, and even if I had to call his mother, I’d make sure he made it home okay, as well.

“I’m driving. Why are we talking about this? Let’s talk about something more fun. Like, can I kiss you again?”

I wanted him to. Lord knows I did, but I couldn’t do that. Not when he was drunk and probably had no idea what he was saying. He’d wake up tomorrow and regret it. That’s if he even remembered it. I never wanted to be something someone regretted.