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)
“What’re we gonna do after I get the all-clear and we get out of here? River …” He brings his voice low. “I think you need to contact your friend.”
Lexi … “No. I won’t do it. I’m not forcing her hand.”
“River …” His phone dings. He stands up to check it. “Brooke. Again. Looks like the vans and the crowd left my house. Bet there’s people still at the bungalow, though.”
“Is there a safe path to your house from here?”
“Yep. Avoiding all the main streets.”
“Should we head out now?”
He shrugs. “Maybe give it another five or ten?”
I rise to my feet and depart the back of the bar. After a second of confusion, Finn swipes his phone off the charger and follows me. “What’s the hurry?” he asks. “We can’t go out too soon in case some rando spots us, then everything Theo just did will be for nothing.”
“We don’t have to hunker down behind a bar.”
“It’s just in case anyone peeks in through the—” It hits him. “Oh, god, River, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think—”
I pull my cute Finn into my arms so quickly, he grunts with surprise. “Didn’t I say never to apologize to me ever again? You, my dear, cherished island boy, are the one to whom I will be forever grateful. The fact that you’re still standing by my side and haven’t taken off running, even after all of this … after all I’ve done …” I shake my head, holding him even tighter. “I’m going to make this right.”
“I understand wanting to make this right, but …” He closes up, body going stiff. “Just promise me something.”
“Promise you what?”
He lifts his face. “Don’t throw your whole career away in the process.”
I stroke his hair. “You’re cute. I think I’ll keep you.”
He swats my hand away. “I’m being serious.”
“Me, too. Can I keep you?” I go for his hair again. He lets me this time. “After this is all over with? … Can we … give this an honest shot? … Us?”
His eyes soften. He doesn’t know what to say.
Then his phone buzzes. He lifts it up to look, then lets out a sigh—of relief or worry, I can’t tell. “Did three loops of the isle. Four vans and a ton of cars followed him on his way out of town. Isn’t sure how many of the cars are actual weirdos or just people who were leaving anyway.”
I smile. “Sounds like our all-clear.”
“As good of one as we’ll get,” he agrees, anxious.
The next minute, we’re on the street, making our way north to our side of the island. It’s eerily calm everywhere, like a hurricane passed and all that remains is suspiciously still air and a sense like the worst is yet to come.
“Keep your head down,” I tell him.
“Says Clark Kent,” he grumbles back. “With a pair of shades, a hat, and a leather jacket that somehow completely masks your identity.”
We stop at a corner and turn away, waiting for a car to pass by. It brings our faces close as I shield him from view. His eyes lock onto mine. We stay just like that, even after the car has long since passed, his eyes vivid and alive.
“I might be crazy,” I say, “but if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were having a little fun right now.”
He cracks a smile. “Little fun. Lot of inner panic. Goes hand-in-hand sometimes.”
“You look kinda hot in your ex-boyfriend’s clothes.”
His face goes funny. “Seriously?”
“Just dye all your hair black, get a lip ring, and you’re halfway to starting an emo punk band. Seriously,” I laugh as his face goes even funnier. “Got any musical talent? Can you play a guitar?”
“Not a lick of it. Couldn’t sing my way out of a bucket. Emo punk band?” He snorts with laughter. “Really?”
“Maybe you’re a better actor than I thought,” I tease. “Put you in a costume, and who knows what you become?”
“You think?”
“What does this black mesh tank-top-wearing version of Finn do? How brave is he?” I hug him closer against me, close enough to feel his breath on my cheeks. “Is he brave enough to … kiss me out here in broad daylight?”
His next breath catches in his throat. Here we stand, no one in sight, as we clutch each other tightly, isolated in our little world for this tender moment on the street corner.
He feels so perfect cradled in my arms. Our chests put together, hearts beating alongside one another’s, breaths in and out, body to body, essence to essence.
“It’s taking every last fucking thing inside me to resist kissing you right now,” I admit.
“Don’t you dare,” he says, but it sounds more like a downright invitation.
I ought to exercise my self-control. After all, aren’t my impulses the very thing that, just a few weeks ago, upended so many people’s lives with one fell fucking swoop?