Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Though not technically the sea,” he starts rambling. “Gulf. Ocean. Coast. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Aren’t humans funny?” I murmur, trying my own hand at being poetic, wanting to impress him. “Cutting up the land and the water of the world into little pieces, giving everything names … as if any of it belongs to any of us.” I drink in the side of his face as he peers longingly into the dark. “We’re all just … here for now … a blip in the long, ancient, unknowable life of this planet. Who are we to say what anything is at all?”
He turns his eyes onto me right then.
I gaze back, putting on my charming smile.
See, island boy, I could say with a playful nip, if I was more daring. I can be poetic, too.
His eyes pull quickly away to the water, but not quite. “Haven’t seen the Fair from this angle in a long time,” he admits suddenly, changing topics to avoid acknowledging the brief connection we just made, I presume.
I smirk. “So you’ve seen this angle before?” I ask with a hint of amusement. “Meaning … you broke the rules in the past and came down to this rocky beach yourself?”
He cracks a smile, giving in. “When we were kids, my sisters and I sometimes came and played down here.”
“Sisters? More than one?”
“Two. Both older.”
I give him a nudge. “So you got a bit of a troublemaker in you, too, huh, Finn?”
He looks at me. The waves hiss as they comb through the stones. Somehow, the roar of Mother Nature makes me extra aware of just how by-ourselves we are right now. All alone. No cameras. No hidden stalkers. No crushing weight of responsibility and dread. Just his sweet, guarded eyes.
“It wasn’t the compliment that scared me off earlier,” he volunteers suddenly. I lift my eyebrows, listening. “I’ve just been through a lot lately. With someone. My ex. He’s no longer in the picture. But ever since him, I … I don’t know if I trust my instincts yet. My heart is … a little lost at sea right now, forgive the pun.”
“Maybe it isn’t a pun,” I suggest right back, catching him off-guard. “Life’s a big ol’ sea, and it seems perfectly reasonable to me that after a tough time, you can feel left out on a rickety raft in the middle of it, not knowing who or what to trust, even when it comes to your own heart.” The waves swallow up the space between my words. My head feels so clear right now, I wonder how I ever coped without this level of peace before. “I do know one thing for sure.”
“What’s that?”
His foot slips out from under him.
I don’t know how it happens, but I’m lightning fast as I reach for Finn. In the space of half a second, I’ve got him in my arms, catching his fall. His wide eyes are on me as I hold him in place, our faces inches apart. My heart drums so loudly, I can’t even hear the waves anymore.
He finds his footing but doesn’t let go of me nor look away from my eyes.
“You can stay lost at sea as long as you need to,” I tell him, “but … you don’t have to be lost alone.”
Both of us, suspended in the dark, crashing symphony of ocean waves around us, neither of us saying a thing.
Is his heart beating as loudly as mine?
He lets go of my arms so fast, I worry he’ll fall again. “I need to go,” he says, turns and starts heading off, stops, then adds, “Be careful. Lots of slippery stones out here.”
Then I watch him go the rest of the way. I find myself wondering if there’s some hidden meaning in that last thing he said. So many slippery stones, indeed.
Chapter 6 - Finn
I’m not going back to the bungalow.
Not casually dropping in to see how River’s doing.
Not falling into that emotional trap.
It’s the next morning. I’m doing my hair for the day. I have a long list of to-dos all around the island. I wouldn’t even have time to invest in him, right?
At least I got to see a different side of him. Other than half-naked in a towel with all the unabashed confidence of a movie star. I saw River let down his walls. Share himself with me. Respect my space.
And say stunning things like I owed him no thanks.
Like he shouldn’t have come on to me.
Just before taking me on an adventure down a rocky shore my feet haven’t known since I was a kid.
A shore that’s been outside my window my whole life.
I’m driving across the island on my errands, and I can’t help considering if I’m being too cold. It wouldn’t hurt to drop by this evening and just check on him again, would it? Despite all the instructions to be left alone, he sure didn’t seem to mind my dropping in last night.