17. Finn
seventeen
Finn
“ W hat’s with the face?” Noah asks, as we sit at an empty picnic table at Bayside Table.
I lock my phone screen to hide Vivian’s polite refusal, sliding it into the pocket of my sweat-damp athletic shorts before reconsidering and placing it face down on the table. “It’s nothing.”
Earlier, when we’d been walking here, I’d answered Vivian’s question about Atticus, not telling Noah who I was texting with. Then I’d had to keep from grinning like an idiot as we’d gone back and forth.
Vivian’s last message, thanking me for the invitation but saying that she’s staying home makes sense.
It’s late. She’s not used to being out multiple times per week since she usually only goes to music trivia.
It probably wouldn’t be best for town gossip if we were seen together two nights in a row, anyway.
Especially since she’s interested in Atticus.
These are all logical, valid reasons, yet none of them assuage the dull ache along my ribs.
“Nothing, huh?” Noah gives me an unconvinced look over his club soda and orange.
My new boxing partner was happy to accept my invitation for a post-workout drink with the caveat that his be non-alcoholic since he’s six years sober. Drinking after Geneva practically beat the crap out of us didn’t seem like the best idea, so I ordered the same.
“It’s just…women problems,” I tell him, shocking myself by actually telling the truth instead of coming up with a complex web of lies. It’s second nature when someone asks me a question about myself at this point. I must be really exhausted for the truth to wiggle through.
“With someone on the mainland,” I add quickly when Noah’s eyebrows shoot up.
“No offense, but I can’t imagine you having women problems.” His boisterous laugh draws the attention of the middle-aged couple nearest us.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My dude.” He pulls off his backward baseball hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and replaces it. “You own a mirror, right?”
I grin at the table, shaking my head. “It’s never that simple.”
“True.” He nods, his gaze drifting out over the calm bay.
Sensing an opening, I ask, “What’s the story with you and Brynn?”
Noah sucks a breath through his teeth. “Come on, man. We just met. Don’t hit me with the hard punches at the beginning of our bromance.”
I laugh for what seems like the seventeenth time in ten minutes. Before Vivian and I began texting, Noah had been playfully goading Geneva after class ended. We helped put away equipment as Noah tried to get Geneva to crack a smile—unsuccessfully, I might note.
My hands lift in surrender. “Got it. Women are off the table. Want to talk sports?”
Noah’s grin broadens. “Please tell me you’re a baseball fan.”
The remainder of the week is almost bland in its simplicity. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the locals are finally being pleasant, and no one else attempts to jumpstart their marriage in the library. Even the wild rainstorm we were supposed to receive yesterday ended up being a light sprinkle.
It’s not until Vivian rushes through my office door late Friday afternoon that I realize it’s her that’s been missing.
I struggle to keep my expression even, to conceal the way my mood lifts as she tosses her butterfly tote on my desk with complete disregard for my neatly stacked folders.
I’ve missed Vivian’s quiet chaos, her freckle-dusted cheekbones, her—
I cut off the thought, leaning back in my office chair with an air of nonchalance that’s in direct opposition to my sprinting heartbeat.
“Isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”
Vivian tucks a springy curl behind her ear, coming around the desk. “I need help.”
Her quick motion sends her azure skirt billowing, her coffee-tinged magnolia fragrance perfuming the room.
If I thought my heart was racing before, it’s malfunctioning now.
She’s going to kill me sitting on my desk like that, legs crossed at the ankle.
I know there are shorts under her tea-length dress, but that doesn’t make me want to slide a hand up her calf any less.
I let an easy smile lift my lips and interlace my fingers over my stomach to keep them from misbehaving. “With what?”
“Petunia finally clunked out,” Vivian tells me, biting her lip and twisting her ring.
I bolt upright in my chair. “Who’s Petunia?”
A great-grandmother? A townsperson I’ve yet to meet?
“No, Finn.” Vivian settles both hands on my shoulders, her head subtly shaking. “Nothing like that. Petunia is my car. Brynn’s, technically, but we both use it. I drive to the mainland less than her, so we share one.”
“Oh.” I should lean back now that she’s clarified, but then I’d miss the gentle weight of her hands.
“This is going to sound silly.”
“I doubt it.” I make sure to quirk the corner of my lips, even though I’m being completely honest. “Nothing you say is silly.”
Vivian wrinkles her nose, and I nearly implode. Death by cuteness. Is that a thing?
“Just listen.” She playfully pushes me back, breaking contact. “Do you remember when I told you about the Oceanside Artisan Fair?”
“Of course, gorgeous. It’s tomorrow.”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she swallows. “Right. Well, what I didn’t tell you was it was part two of my ocean wish. Officially, I only wished for the ability to talk to the man of my dreams, because everyone knows you can only ask the ocean for one thing.”
“Naturally.” My fingers clench the armrests at the reminder of Atticus.
Vivian narrows her eyes at my dry comment but continues, “Having that first wish granted gave me the confidence to move forward with part two of my plan.”
She breathes that wistful sigh of hers, and darn if my chest doesn’t clench.
“Honestly, the last few days have felt like an upbeat montage. All that was missing was Natasha Bedingfield’s soulful voice as I boxed up dresses to secretly put in the trunk overnight, coordinated online with a clothing store on the mainland to borrow some garment racks, and got a credit card reader for my phone for cashless transactions.
But when I drove to get money for a cash box this afternoon, Petunia broke down, and I had to hitch a ride with Dr. Prescott to get home. ”
“So you need a ride tomorrow,” I say, tamping down annoyance that Vivian didn’t come to me sooner. If she had called, I would have picked her up.
Vivian nods. “The mechanic said he can’t get to it until Monday. I know it’s asking a lot, but would you mind driving me?”
Unable to keep from touching her, I give her forearm a quick squeeze. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
“And you don’t mind coming over late tonight—like ten-thirty—so we can load up the dresses? You’ll have to park beside Seabreeze Beans so no one recognizes your car.”
I run a hand down the buttons of my suit vest to dissipate the sting from her comment. “I thought that since I’m no longer the town villain, we can be seen together.”
“Yeah, but being together that late would look like we’re dating.” Her lips twist as if that idea is as appetizing as sucking raw sewage through a straw. “Atticus still hasn’t texted me. Do you think it’s because of music trivia? Maybe he thinks we’re—” She flicks a finger between us.
“Facing each other?” I ask, lifting a single eyebrow.
Vivian huffs. “No. You know…” She widens her eyes pointedly.
I’d planned on teasing her a few more times but change tactics. Since the library is scheduled to close in ten minutes—except for those in attendance for bingo in the meeting room downstairs—the upstairs is empty.
I stand, my smirk broadening. “Friends who practice kissing?”
A shaky inhale lifts Vivian’s shoulders as her cheeks flush. I unconsciously follow that cotton candy stain as it streaks down her neck, my gaze stalling at her thrumming pulse point. Several seconds pass as the air around us grows thicker. Electrifies.
“Finn.”
My name is a breathy whisper, but I can’t drag my eyes from her neck. There’s a spray of freckles over her left collarbone that I want to trace with my lips.
“Yes, gorgeous?”
All the lights in the library click off except those in my office. Patricia is probably closing early.
“You…” A swallow bobs her beautiful throat. “You said—”
“Just wanted to double-check that—” Letitia’s voice cuts off as she looks up from the thick stack of bingo cards she’s been organizing, freezing in my doorway.
It takes me three stumbling heartbeats to realize that I’m pressed between Vivian’s fabric-covered legs, and that her right hand is gripping my hip.
When did I move forward? How did Vivian touch me without me noticing?
Probably because I’d been consumed by the insatiable need to kiss her again.
Another second and I was going to start at that frantic pulse point at her neck and work my way up.
“Um.” Letitia’s dark skin pinks slightly before she flips. “Never mind.”
A handful of bingo cards slips from her arms, but Letitia doesn’t even look back. In fact, she uses the pink cardstock to shield her face until she descends the stairs.
I want to laugh, but the impulse swiftly dies once I catch Vivian’s panicked eyes. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”
“And do what?”
“Tell her she didn’t see what she thought she saw.”
My step back is so forceful I send my rolling chair skittering. For a second, I thought—
No. Nothing’s changed. Vivian has been very clear about her desire to date Atticus. I was the one who pushed things by flirting when I shouldn’t have. This is my fault. I barely resist the urge to fist my hands at my own idiocy.
“You’re right,” I say, heading toward the door. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Once I attempt damage control with an unconvinced Letitia, I return to my office. To my surprise, Vivian is still here, hugging herself and staring at the ocean. I clear my throat so as to not startle her and lean against the doorjamb.
“Everything’s sorted.”
I hate that her brow softens at my words. “Good. Thank you.”
A casual nod bobs my chin, though it feels like all my tendons are a half inch shorter. Everything in my body is tight.
“I’ve been thinking…” Vivian twirls her pinky ring. “Maybe I should take the first step with Atticus. Text him and ask him to Bayside Table? It’s not the 1950s, right? I don’t need to wait for him to make the first move.”
“You don’t.” I cross to my desk, packing my things for the night. I need to get out of this room, out of this conversation, more than I need oxygen.
Blessedly, Vivian takes the hint and gathers her canvas bag. “Okay, I’ll do that.”
“You should.” It takes all my strength not to fling those words at her like a moody teenager.
I just need some space to get my head on straight.
Atticus is who Vivian truly wants. She’s just practicing with me.
I need to understand that I’m here to help, not for keeps.
I shouldn’t be upset. This is how I like my dating life.
I’ve always kept things short term so I didn’t have to open up, because my life is overly complicated.
That and the one woman who got beneath my layers didn’t want the real me. I’m not putting myself in a position to be shattered again. It isn’t worth it.
I slip on a carefree smile and slide my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I’ll text once I’m parked tonight. I’m assuming you’ll want to pack the car without waking Brynn.”
Vivian’s brows are furrowed, her gaze fixed on a gray carpet square. “What?” She glances up. “Oh, yes.”
We walk shoulder to shoulder down the stairs until I break off with the pretenses of checking in on Letitia.
A splash of disappointment skirts her face, which is confusing as heck. “Okay.” Vivian bites her lip. “See you later, friend.”
That last word was a dagger I really didn’t need, but message received. From now on, I’m keeping six feet of space between us at all times.
“Bye, Vivian.”
I wait a minute before leaving, but instead of going home, I head to the small market.
After buying all the cold sodas in Dotty’s refrigerator section and twenty bags of chips, I return to the library meeting room to raucous applause.
They even pause the game to receive my gifts—something Letitia assures me never happens.
Bingo is apparently very cutthroat in Wilks Beach. A table needed repairing last week after being flipped in a dispute of who called “Bingo” first. They don’t even play for prizes, just clout and their name on a winner’s circle poster that hangs in the corner.
A handful of locals invites me to play, but I make excuses. What I need more than anything is to remind myself who I really am. I’m no one’s forever. Vivian wouldn’t make a cosmic wish for someone to date for a few weeks.
I check my watch: twenty after five. Just enough time to get off this island for a few hours. Pulling out my phone, I call Alec.
“Please tell me you’re coming out tonight,” he answers. “I’ve had such a crappy week, and I need to bury my sorrows in a dumb blonde.”
I force a stale laugh, ignoring how his words chafe. Has Alec always spoken so callously about women? “I am.”
“Yes!” He aggressively hoots into the phone, forcing me to pull it away from my ear.
“But I can only stay out until nine-thirty.”
Alec grumbles, calling me a few emasculating names before we make plans on where to meet.
I intentionally lower my tense shoulders as I walk home. It doesn’t matter how I feel about this situation. Vivian and I are only friends, so maybe I should find someone else to kiss.