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Authors: Ren Alexander
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and dares all in the name of fun and to quench his thirst for an adrenaline fix. The more dangerous the feat, the more zealous Finn is about executing it. I can manage roller coasters, but that’s my limit. Therefore, his living in a gated community actually makes me feel like he’s being taken care of and watched after when I’m not with him. Therefore, the extra security measures give me peace of mind, even if it’s only a small piece.
I pull my black Toyota into one of Finn’s two parking spots in front of his apartment. His car isn’t here, so he must’ve already gone to work. I grab my bag, the food for the picnic, my purse and walk over to his porch that is enclosed with thick, white, wood railings. Nothing decorates the space. No chairs, wind chimes or flower pots. Typical guy. I shove my key into the lock, the metal door pops open and I’m instantly flooded with his spicy scent. It’s still heavy in the air, so he must have left not too long ago. My heart sinks. I’d rather be in his arms than standing alone in his living room.
Finn’s living room screams bachelor . On the walls hang numerous autographs, a few framed articles and sports memorabilia, being an occupational perk in his line of work. He’s either met these people, had some sort of connection to getting an autograph, or bought the keepsake for an expensive price. No wonder he wanted to live in a gated community.
I set my purse and overnight bag down on his coffee brown sofa and walk into his bright kitchen, which is surrounded by a bar and is diagonally open to the living room. After I put the food in his refrigerator, I notice the piled dishes in his sink and I load them into the dishwasher. I wipe down the counters and then take my overnight bag into his bedroom, where his essence is even stronger.
The private soul of Finn’s personality is his bedroom, which is also my favorite room in his apartment. His bed is covered with a ribbed, midnight blue comforter and his walls are a smoky gray. Even though he loves all sports, soccer and baseball are closest to his heart. There are various autographed pictures of his heroes hanging on the walls. His soccer favorites: Landon Donovan, Kasey Keller and Brad Friedel. His favorite team is the Los Angeles Galaxy. His prized Mickey Mantle and Roberto Clemente signed baseballs in protective cases are proudly displayed on his tall mahogany dresser.
His closet is full of suits, but he left room for me to keep some of my clothes in there, as well, but I don’t since I have no reason to keep dressier clothes here. All of the things I keep here are jeans, T-shirts, night shirts and underwear.
Finn also has pictures next to his alarm clock on his nightstand. One is the same that I have of us at Busch Gardens. Next to it is an additional Morgan Yates original. We were at another of his dirt bike races. After the race and people had left the bleachers, he walked over to where I was with Morgan on the bottom bench and he picked me up. In the picture, I’m looking down at him as he gazes up at me. Morgan said that Finn had a lovesick look on his face. I didn’t see it, but apparently she did and took the picture. She took a couple of those. In a frame, I have the one she took right after that picture. In that one, I kissed him.
The third picture he has on his nightstand is of the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. The love of my life has jumped off of that fucking thing more than once doing a BASE jump, which ominously stands for: buildings, antennas, spans , and earth. On Bridge Day, they hold a festival and it is legally permissible that one day a year to BASE jump from it. The October after we had started dating, he jumped from it without telling me beforehand. Surprised, I had a fit watching him live on TV. When he called me afterward, I threatened to leave him if he ever jumped again. I read that three people had died jumping from it. We had a small argument, but he actually gave in and he no
I pull my black Toyota into one of Finn’s two parking spots in front of his apartment. His car isn’t here, so he must’ve already gone to work. I grab my bag, the food for the picnic, my purse and walk over to his porch that is enclosed with thick, white, wood railings. Nothing decorates the space. No chairs, wind chimes or flower pots. Typical guy. I shove my key into the lock, the metal door pops open and I’m instantly flooded with his spicy scent. It’s still heavy in the air, so he must have left not too long ago. My heart sinks. I’d rather be in his arms than standing alone in his living room.
Finn’s living room screams bachelor . On the walls hang numerous autographs, a few framed articles and sports memorabilia, being an occupational perk in his line of work. He’s either met these people, had some sort of connection to getting an autograph, or bought the keepsake for an expensive price. No wonder he wanted to live in a gated community.
I set my purse and overnight bag down on his coffee brown sofa and walk into his bright kitchen, which is surrounded by a bar and is diagonally open to the living room. After I put the food in his refrigerator, I notice the piled dishes in his sink and I load them into the dishwasher. I wipe down the counters and then take my overnight bag into his bedroom, where his essence is even stronger.
The private soul of Finn’s personality is his bedroom, which is also my favorite room in his apartment. His bed is covered with a ribbed, midnight blue comforter and his walls are a smoky gray. Even though he loves all sports, soccer and baseball are closest to his heart. There are various autographed pictures of his heroes hanging on the walls. His soccer favorites: Landon Donovan, Kasey Keller and Brad Friedel. His favorite team is the Los Angeles Galaxy. His prized Mickey Mantle and Roberto Clemente signed baseballs in protective cases are proudly displayed on his tall mahogany dresser.
His closet is full of suits, but he left room for me to keep some of my clothes in there, as well, but I don’t since I have no reason to keep dressier clothes here. All of the things I keep here are jeans, T-shirts, night shirts and underwear.
Finn also has pictures next to his alarm clock on his nightstand. One is the same that I have of us at Busch Gardens. Next to it is an additional Morgan Yates original. We were at another of his dirt bike races. After the race and people had left the bleachers, he walked over to where I was with Morgan on the bottom bench and he picked me up. In the picture, I’m looking down at him as he gazes up at me. Morgan said that Finn had a lovesick look on his face. I didn’t see it, but apparently she did and took the picture. She took a couple of those. In a frame, I have the one she took right after that picture. In that one, I kissed him.
The third picture he has on his nightstand is of the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. The love of my life has jumped off of that fucking thing more than once doing a BASE jump, which ominously stands for: buildings, antennas, spans , and earth. On Bridge Day, they hold a festival and it is legally permissible that one day a year to BASE jump from it. The October after we had started dating, he jumped from it without telling me beforehand. Surprised, I had a fit watching him live on TV. When he called me afterward, I threatened to leave him if he ever jumped again. I read that three people had died jumping from it. We had a small argument, but he actually gave in and he no
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