Eerie (34 page)

“What? No.” He almost yelled it, but Hailey couldn't stop grinning. “Why are you smiling?”

“I'm just glad you don't think I'm disgusting.”

“Nobody thinks you're disgusting, Hailey, half the hockey team asked for my permission to date you.”

“What?”

“You have no idea how attractive this cute, disheveled, athletic, nerdy thing is,” he told her, gesturing at her with both hands.

“No, I meant, why are they asking for your permission to date me?”

Fin sat back in his seat and chewed his lip for a few seconds.

“Alright, look, I'm not gonna lie to you—I haven't always been the kind and gentlemanly specimen you see before you. I used to date a lot. A LOT. And until I ended things, which was usually very quickly after things started, the guys on the team would respect the relationship for however long it lasted—”

“You mean however short it lasted.”
Pig
.

“AND they would wait until I was . . .” He hesitated before he spit it out. “...done . . .with whoever I was seeing, before they moved in on her.”

“You guys are pigs.”

“
Were
... No, they were respectful. I was a . . . I was fickle.”

Hailey curled her lip.
He was a pig
.

“But those days are over,” he said quickly. “They were over the day I met you, and in fact, I haven't been with another girl since the day I met you—since my first day as a bartender.”

“I've seen you, Fin.” Hailey could name ten off the top of her head.

“What you saw was me tying up some loose ends and letting those girls know that I'd met someone.”

Fin shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “Listen, Cobon thinks he can make me hurt you...emotionally. The little pervert's been watching my dreams about you.”

“You dream about me?” This was news.

“Don't you dream about me?” Fin pulled his cheek back as if he couldn't imagine that she
didn't
spend her nights pining after him, and since he was sharing his innermost thoughts . . .

“I daydream about you,” she admitted.

“Yeah? Tell me more.” He leaned forward, looking wolfish.

“In my daydreams, you never kick me out of your room when I show up naked at your door.”

“Go on . . .”

“No.” She'd just shared enough embarrassment for at least a decade.

“You don't dream about me at night?”

“No, not you.”
Oops.

Fin pushed back from the table. “Who do you dream of?”

Hailey pressed her lips together.

“It's Asher, isn't it?”

She looked away, hoping he'd just drop it, but Fin fixed a stubborn stare at her.

“That's where I met him,” she said, her eyebrows raised.

Fin gave her a look she couldn't quite place, and when she tried to apologize, he cut in.

“Look, there's something I want to ask you,” he said rubbing her hand and looking grave. He was going to ask her to stay away from him, she just knew it—to protect her from Cobon, but that was harebrained, and she opened her mouth to tell him so, but Fin held his hand up.

“Hailey,” he began, and she made a preemptive frown. “Would you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”

Hailey blinked.

“Yes,” she told him, but it came out sounding like, “Finally!” and she couldn't stop her smile from spreading across her whole head. “When?”

“This weekend. There's someplace I want to show you.”

“Where is it?”

“You'll find out tomorrow,” he said taking a bite of his pizza, and Hailey tried to keep her leg from shaking. Asher would not be happy.

And she didn't care.

Fin wiped his mouth and smiled at her.

“So,” he said leaning over the table, “was that your first kiss,” he asked, poking his tongue in his cheek and looking very pleased with himself.

Hailey bit her lip.

“No?”

“You left me!” she said pulling her eyebrows together. “You left me all alone, and Asher was there, and I was . . .” She gnashed her teeth and shook her head, tracing a scratch on the table with her finger and concentrating on not telling him about the second kiss.

“You kissed him?”

“Well, yeah.” Asher wasn't exactly gross. Hailey flicked her eyes at Fin's then back to the scratch in the table.

Fin leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not like that!” she said waving her hands in front of her. “Not like . . .” she put her ear on her shoulder, unable to say the word, “tongue.”

That seemed to brighten Fin's mood considerably. Leaning forward, he smiled at her, and she could feel her cheeks burning.

“Stop looking at me,” she smiled.

“Never.”

Fin walked Hailey to her door and kissed her gently. “Pick you up at noon.”

“No!” Hailey yelled, and she slammed the door in his face, but she opened it again with a giggle.

“That wasn't funny,” he said dead-pan. Making a quick lunge into her room, he tossed her over his shoulder.

“Oof,” she grunted. “I thought it was hysterical,” she laughed.

“You're gonna pay for that one!”

With her slung over his shoulder, Fin ran down the stairs and out the door. He tossed her kicking and screaming into a six-foot snowbank.

“I'll pick you up at noon tomorrow,” he called as he left her struggling to extract herself, giggling and spitting out snow.

Noon on Friday couldn't come quick enough, and Hailey practically skipped to her 9:30 class. She took her usual seat in the first row when something unusual happened.

David, one of the few students at Bear Towne brave enough to even look at Hailey, plopped down next to her.

“Hey, Hailey,” he said groggily as he opened his notebook.

“Hi,” she answered, confused. Nobody ever sat in the first row with her. She was more than a little suspicious when she saw David had actually combed his hair that morning.

“Are you going to Seven Trumpets?” he said out of the blue.

“Yes—with Asher.”

“Do you know if your roommate's going?”

Aha. This was too perfect.

“Yes,” she said smiling. “I mean—no, Giselle does not have a date, yet . . . And I know that,” she explained. “But she wants to go . . .”

“Really?”

Hailey couldn't tell if he was surprised or disgusted. She went with surprised.

“Yeah. I know. It's hard to believe. She's so . . .um . . .she has such pretty eyes . . .”

“Yeah,” he raised his eyebrows and nodded. “But—”

“—but she hasn't accepted an invitation, yet.”

“You think I should ask her?”

“Well, why wouldn't you? She's very . . .interesting—and really fun . . .” That was stretching the truth a little.

“She's a little scary.” He came right out and said it.

“She's not scary.”

Okay. That was a flat out lie. Giselle could scare the hair off a cat.

David drew a doodle on his notebook.

“I guess I could try asking her,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe I'll ask her in class—”

“No!” Hailey yelled. “—I mean, you should wait until lunch. She's much more likely to say yes on a full stomach.” Especially if Hailey got to her first. She'd have to warn her. And coach her. “ . . .and she's usually all business in class,” she added.

That seemed to make sense to David.

“Oh. Alright,” he said shrugging.

Hailey hoped he wouldn't lose his nerve before lunch—or try to ask her in class. She'd have to run to catch Giselle in the Pre-Med leaf, and then she'd walk with her to ParaComm while she prepared her for David. And hopefully, she'd have the whole class to convince her to say yes.

As soon as the clock hit 10:30, Hailey bolted. She didn't even wait for the next day's assignment—she'd just get it later.

Hailey caught sight of her roommate just as she passed under the Pre-Med gate.

“Giselle!” She waved and ran to catch up.

“What do you want?”

Hailey needed a second to catch her breath. “You remember . . .” she panted as the two headed to Trinity, “David from . . .ParaComm . . .?”

Giselle didn't respond.

“Well, he just told me he wants to ask you to Seven Trumpets, but he's really nervous . . .”

Giselle tilted her head away from Hailey, but she detected a slight pull on her cheek—the banshee was smiling!

“Anyway,” Hailey said nonchalantly, “thought you should know . . . just in case he tries to talk to you . . .”

They walked in silence until they reached Trinity's doors. Giselle hesitated there. “What if he steps on my dress or something?” the banshee said in a weird, almost feigned grouch.

Hailey shrugged as they walked into class.

“Well . . .uh . . .wail at him,” she said quickly.

“That's funny, Hailey,” Giselle told her, once again trying to hide her smile.

The day the banshee appeared in class looking almost happy will go down in history at Bear Towne, because as she continued smiling, Giselle transformed. Most of her wrinkles vanished, and her wiry gray hair took on a golden sheen. David decided he couldn't wait until lunch and just as Professor Mum opened her mouth to begin class, he abruptly stood up and faced Giselle.

Watching David approach her was the whole of their ParaComm class, all shock-faced, frozen in various pre-class poses, and waiting with wide eyes to witness a dumb human try to strike up a conversation with the campus banshee.

David cleared his throat and looked like he was about to lose his nerve when he got close, so Hailey intervened.

“Hi David,” she called, smiling kindly, and she jabbed her roommate with her elbow.

“Oh. Hi,” said Giselle uncertainly.

“Er . . .Giselle . . .” said David with a shaky voice. “ . . .hi.” He dropped his head and turned his back on them.

Hailey lunged to grab his arm before he could walk away.

“David, I was just telling Giselle how great it would be if we all sat together at Seven Trumpets,” she prodded.

He swallowed loudly. Actually, he looked terrified, and Hailey had to act fast or else he might pass out before he asked Giselle to go.

“ . . .and Giselle really liked the idea . . .” Hailey gave David her most encouraging smile.

“Giselle,” he said going pale, “could . . .would you . . .”

Now he was hyperventilating and spoke his next words so fast they ran together.

“Woul-ja-g-go-to Strumpets-with . . .me . . .?”

Giselle's face softened. “Yeah sure, I guess,” she mumbled.

He smiled widely, but then he passed out at her feet.

Hailey turned to Giselle. “Look,” she said pointing at him. “You're a knock-out.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

A Proper Date

“It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.”

- Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

At exactly noon, Fin knocked on Hailey's door as she scrambled to get her other arm into her jacket.

“Just a second!” she hollered. She didn't know what he had planned, but she did know that it was an overnight date, that Asher would probably go ballistic if he knew, that she didn't care—Asher didn't own her and she was allowed to date whoever she wanted—and that she needed to stop worrying about Asher right now and pack a change of clothes, which her jellied in-between shirt helped her throw together.

“Bring your mittens,” he hollered back, and she caught them when her shirt lobbed them from the closet.

“Miss Hartley,” Fin said when she emerged. He took her bag and offered his arm. “Ready?”

“Mr. O'Shea. Thank you, and I think so . . .”

He let out a wistful growl.

“Call me Fin,” he said, almost moaned. “I love it when you call me Fin.”

“Where are we going, Fin?” Hailey could hardly contain her excitement.

“Up,” he said.

“You're taking me flying?” she said, her voice going way higher than she intended.

“As promised.”

He led her out the door to his giant red truck, which took them through the White Forest gate.

“Why are we here?” said Hailey, clutching her seat as visions of homicidal Yetis and man-eating trees danced through her head.

“Relax,” Fin told her. “The airfield is this way, and I-MET keeps the whole flight area clear of bad things.”

Before long, a hangar came into view, and Fin parked his truck next to a tiny red and black two-seater, which stood on skis and bore the Yeti's team logo on its tail.

“Where are the wheels?” Hailey pointed to the airplane's feet.

“In the hangar, I think.” He opened the hatch and gave her a boost.

“Why aren't we taking the small one?” she remarked after she bonked her head and bumped her elbows squeezing into her seat.

Fin shook his head as he strapped her in.

“Zip up and put on your mittens. There's no heat back here.” With their luggage secured behind Hailey's seat and their headsets donned, Fin fired up the single engine plane, and his voice crackled in Hailey's ear.

“It's a short, thirty-minute flight to the lake and a ten-minute go on the snowmachine.”

“The what?”

“The snowmobile,” he clarified. “You need to learn some Alaska words—” Fin cut himself off to make a radio call. “Bear Towne traffic, Cub bravo-tango-uniform–tree, taking runway zero-four, departing north, Bear Towne.”

He throttled up for takeoff, and Hailey gripped her seat.

“This is incredible,” she said, low enough that it didn't activate her mike, and she watched as they rounded a corner and flew over the campus.

Olde Main tilted only slightly to the north, and she could see enough detail to notice two students walk briefly outside the Trinity Center, grab their hoods around their faces, and walk back inside. No doubt they'd decided to take the tunnel. It wasn't below zero, but it was darn close.

Thirty minutes passed in a flash, and Fin pointed out the left window. “There it is,” he said, dipping the wings.

Sitting in the middle of a white wonderland was a small log cabin, and the plane descended until it landed without a sound on a white field nearby.

“Where's the lake?” Hailey asked as the engine spun down.

“You're sitting on it.” Fin opened the hatch and helped a horror-stricken Hailey outside.

“Holy crap, is this safe?” She stiffened her legs, which in her mind, was the only thing keeping them from falling through the ice.

“I don't know,” Fin said as he transferred their gear to a waiting snowmachine. “Better not bend your knees or else the whole lake might cave in,” he teased.

He buttoned up the plane then handed her a pair of goggles.

“Relax,” he said as he cinched her hood for her. “This ice is at least two feet thick. Now, it might get cold back here, but if you hunker down behind me, I'll block the wind for you.” Something serious darkened his expression, but then he smiled.

“Well, hop on.”

“How did you get a snowmob—a snowmachine out here?”

Merely winking in response, Fin adjusted his goggles and revved the engine.

Sounding more like a chainsaw than a vehicle, the snowmachine whined and roared as it skimmed across the snow-covered lake and up a gentle hill. They wound around a few trees and parked in front of a beautifully rustic log cabin resting on stilts with a snow-covered roof over its head.

“This is it,” he said proudly.

“It's sss-sss-so c-cute.” The ride across the lake was a lot colder than she'd expected, and though her parka had kept her chest warm, the wind blew up her sleeves and cut right through her pants.

Fin hurried her inside, where it actually felt colder.

“That's mm-mm-much better,” Hailey said with a crooked smile as Fin threw a log into the woodstove.

“Give it a second, and it'll be nice and toasty in here.” He lit a fire, and he was right. Less than ten minutes later, she was shedding her parka. By then, Fin had the generator going, lights on, hot chocolate made, and blankets deployed on the couch. Then he clapped his hands together.

“I'll be outside catching dinner,” he told her, and he grabbed a fishing pole next to the door.

Hailey knew exactly nothing about ice fishing and had no idea how Fin planned to break through two feet of ice. “The lake's frozen, Fin—how are you gonna catch anything?”

He cocked his head and held up a giant corkscrew.

“It's not frozen solid, my little southerner.”

Hailey looked over his shoulder through the window with a skeptical frown.

“Thar be trout in that lake,” he said like a pirate, which made Hailey laugh out loud. “And we're gonna eat it—I'll make my special glaze and some rice and beans . . .” He pointed his finger at her. “And YOU will owe me an apology, ye of little faith. Keep the fire going,” he reminded her as he headed out the door.

Through the window, Hailey watched him auger through the ice, bait a hook, and drop it through the hole. Almost immediately, he pulled out a fish. He held it up and pointed at it, nodding his head as if to say, “Told you so.”

Smiling, Hailey took a look around the cabin. It was divided by a couch into two small rooms. In the kitchen area was a small propane stove for cooking, a utility sink, a tiny fridge, and a heavy wooden table.

Less than half an hour after he grabbed his fishing pole, Fin was back inside with four trout and a triumphant smile.

“I'll have that apology now,” he said as he took off his coat.

“You're amazing,” said Hailey, feigning her best swoon. “I never should have doubted your skills on the ice,” she continued, and then she bowed her head and batted her lashes at him. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Alright,” he said, matching her sarcasm. “If you ever kiss me, I'll forgive you.”

Her playful smile evaporated. “I already kissed you.”

“No,” he sang. “
I
kissed
you
.”

This wasn't fun anymore. She was way too shy to make a first move. Even after last night. So, she tucked her hair behind her ear and changed the subject, like the coward she was.

“How can I help with dinner?” she asked, nervously standing over the day's catch, not that she'd even know where to begin with a fish that still had eyeballs.

“Here,” he said as he brought down some plates. “You can set the table and pour the wine—don't tell Pix.”

“I won't.”

It wasn't that she'd never had alcohol. Uncle Pix had been giving her and Holly beer in a shot glass since they were in grade school, but if he ever found out that Fin fed her wine, he'd probably kill him.

“Do you come here a lot?” If she had a cabin like his, she'd never leave.

“I used to come here . . .” he said as he lit a lantern on the table, “all the time.”

“Alone?”

Fin became very busy at the stove, stirring and studying his secret trout glaze as if he hadn't heard her.

“You bring a lot of girls up here?” she said smiling and pleased to see him squirm for a change.

“Um . . .no,” he answered, still stirring and turning down the flame.

“Just me?” she pressed.

He cut the fire completely. “Time to eat,” he said without looking at her.

Hailey watched him shovel a fish onto her plate, and then he pulled her chair out, waiting as Hailey took her seat. Fin sat, too, and picked up his fork but then dropped it loudly.

“Alright, long story short? I brought one girl out here one time—and then she hanged herself, pass the wine?”

Holy shit
.

She grabbed the bottle, lifted it to her lips, and downed three giant gulps before passing it to Fin. What else could she do?

He stared at her stark-faced for several seconds until finally, she wiggled the bottle, and he grabbed it.

“
Sláinte
.” He didn't bother with the glass, either.

“I'm sorry I kept prodding you,” she said. “It's not your fault.”

“What?”

“When someone kills themself, it's never somebody else's fault.”

Fin looked up at her with what Hailey thought was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Don't get me wrong, Fin,” Hailey said with a chuckle, “you're very handsome and pretty easy to love, but . . .” her voice trailed off, and Fin searched her eyes from across the table as she continued. “But, you're not all that,” she said, chasing her nervousness away, and Fin smiled. “You're not a puppeteer, and you can't know what's going on inside someone's head.”

“What's going on inside your head, Hailey Hartley?”

“I'm still glad you don't think I'm disgusting,” she laughed. “And I really wish you'd kiss me with your tongue again.”

Hailey pressed her lips together and picked up the wine bottle.

“Whoa,” she chuckled with wide eyes. “What's in this stuff?”

Fin's shoulders shook. “Sodium Pentothal?” he laughed.

“Well, it's working. Anything else you'd like to know?”

“Yeah,” he said, his smile vanishing. “How do I win your heart?”

Hailey gazed at him from across the table, her heart thumping in her ears. His eyes were so bright, so honest. She looked at her plate, and as she did so, a gigantic grin grew across her face.

“You wrote the book on that, didn't you, Fin.”

When she looked up, he was still staring at her and looking mighty content.

“Will you tell me about your curse?” she asked, finishing off her first fish. The secret glaze was awesome. Actually, the whole night was awesome.

“It happened when I was seven years old, so I don't remember all the details, though my parents tell me I was very sick—scarlet fever, I think. Anyway, they were desperate. They called on Adalwolf and asked him to save me, which he did. In exchange for saving my life, he demanded an eternity of servitude. My parents pretty much became slaves. And so did I, only . . .”

“Only what?”

“Only I never killed anyone for him. And it used to piss him off royally,” he laughed. “Anyway, I live my life over and over and over. I age until I turn eighty, then I wake up the next morning a seven-year-old. It's a little annoying.”

She tried to imagine it . . . living through grade school—ugh—middle school again . . . Being thirteen again? Thank-you, no.

“What's your psychotic boyfriend going to say when he finds out you spent the night with me?”

“Nothing good.” Hailey pressed her hand to her temple. “Asher gets jealous. I probably won't tell him. Besides, I doubt he'll even notice I'm gone. He hasn't been around much lately, and he only wants me some of the time anyway.”

“Well, I want you all the time.”

He took her chin with his thumb and forefinger, and she gazed up at him, hoping he'd bring his lips a little closer, but instead, he dropped his stare and finished off the wine.

“I'm going to marry you, Hailey Hartley,” he said suddenly, and no doubt fully under the influence of the second bottle of red, so she went with it.

“Where's my ring?”

“In my jacket.”

“You're such a clown,” she told him shaking her head, but he wasn't laughing—drunk, no doubt.

He put his hand on her shoulder and moved his face close to hers. “No snooping,” he said. “I want it to be a surprise when I give it to you.”

“Oh, it will be,” she said, raising her brow.

While Fin tossed cushions off the couch, Hailey looked around the cabin.

“Where should I sleep?” If he thought she was going to crawl into a sofa bed with him, he was drunk
and
stupid.

“You're sleeping here.” He motioned to the bed. “With me.”

“I'll just sleep on the floor,” she said.

He threw a pillow in her face. “You're sleeping in the bed,” he repeated. “
With
your clothes on, my little nudist—no arguments—I'll keep my hands to myself.”

That's what he said, but what he did after Hailey donned her pajamas and slithered under the covers was grab her immediately, pull her into a cuddle, throw a leg over her hips, and hold her tight all night long.

And she fought sleep so she could enjoy every second.

“Fin,” she whispered long after he'd started snoring, “I think I love you, and I'm scared to death.”