10. Lucie #3
It was a lie. Her dad wouldn’t be back for another three hours, but he didn’t need to know that.
The Ranger hesitated, wanting to say more, but she didn’t want to hear it. It would only break her heart more to dream of places she could never go, because she would never be brave enough to leave. After all, she could visit anytime she liked; she just had to pick up her paintbrush or a book.
“All right,” he said gently, making his way to the balcony. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have. I’ll go.”
He opened the door and walked out, and was soon straddling the edge of the balcony. She didn’t even realize she’d followed him until she grabbed onto his bicep to stop him.
“Wait.”
She could feel his muscles flexing under her fingers. Holy crap. He’s so strong. Am I drooling? Now she was definitely holding onto him too long. Her nerves fluttered in her chest.
He turned back to her, surprised, trying to read her expression.
Lucie hesitated, her fingers twisting in her shirt. Now or never.
“I have one last question.”
“Anything,” he breathed, watching her mouth to see if she was brave enough to form the words.
“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled, the kind of smile that was meant just for her, and she wanted to immortalize it on canvas.
“Finn,” he said, letting the name settle between them. “Finn Vega.”
Lucie repeated it softly, testing the sound on her tongue.
The gold in his eyes flickered like embers in a blaze.
Finn. She said it over and over in her head, memorizing his name along with the curve of his hair, the slope of his nose, his thick eyebrows, and the dark eyelashes that fanned his bronze cheeks. The tattoo peeked out from the top of his shirt.
It fit him perfectly. She was surprised she hadn’t guessed it herself; she couldn’t imagine any other name for him.
She caught him watching her lips again.
“Thank you for letting me in, Lucie. Can I see you tomorrow?”
Lucie nodded.
“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he said.
She nodded again. “Yes, please. I’d love that.”
Tentatively, he leaned in, giving her a second to bail out if she wanted, but she leaned in even closer.
“I don’t have dreams, but if I did, they’d be about you,” Finn said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “See you tomorrow, Luzita.”
Then she watched Finn carefully climb down the tree, his movements slow and deliberate. She was unable to drag her eyes away from watching his muscles move and shift as he descended.
When he made it back down, he looked up at her one last time and gave her a little wave.
As he slipped away into the night, she said his name again, touching her lips, savoring the way her mouth formed when she said it.
She went back into her room. It didn’t even feel like her room anymore. It was different. Lighter. Happier. She lay down on her quilt on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning with a thousand thoughts.
She thought of the beach—the way Finn had described it, with waves crashing gently and the sun rising over the horizon.
She wondered what it would be like to stand there with him, toes in the sand, feeling the salty breeze on her face.
For a moment, she let herself imagine it: Finn teaching her how to surf, laughing when she stumbled, cheering when she got it right.
More burgers. Maybe a clambake. She’d always wanted to do one of those.
But then reality set back in—the bruises on her skin, the weight of her father’s expectations, the fear that kept her chained to this place.
She wanted so badly to believe in Finn’s promises, but part of her was scared.
Scared of hoping for something she could never have. Everyone broke their promises.
Tomorrow, it was her least favorite word. It was actually a code word for never. Seeing him “tomorrow,” much less going on a date to the beach, was just a hopeful thought. He was just being nice. Another daydream to fantasize about while working.
Grabbing an old paint cloth, she began wiping the charcoal from her skin, the bruises becoming more distinct with each swipe. This was who she was. Right here was where she belonged.
Lucie rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket around her as if it could shield her mind from the creeping doubts.
She touched the spot on her cheek where the bruise was darkest, wincing at the tenderness.
She hated how small it made her feel, how every time she tried to stand, she was pushed back down.
But tonight, for the first time, there was a flicker of defiance—a quiet, stubborn hope that maybe things could be different when she asked for his name.
Maybe, just maybe, she could be a little brave.
Then she made herself a promise to look at schools again for her program. Dr. Lucie Nightingale. She could give herself that. Maybe someday.
She didn’t know if she’d ever see Finn again, or if he’d even come back tomorrow like he promised. But the thought of him made her smile, and that was enough for now. She whispered his name once more, just to herself—Finn Vega—and tucked it away like a secret.