Summer of Sloane (12 page)

I decide the latter is my best option, because I guess if he doesn’t like me as is, then it’s his loss.

“This place actually catches their fish fresh every day, and I haven’t tasted anything like it.” He eyes me skeptically as we sit at a small table outside, facing the beach. The waves on this side of the island are enormous and nothing like the small swells down in Waikiki. “Wait…you like seafood, right? I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love seafood. Sushi even more, for that matter.”

While I’m not sure what this place is that he’s brought me to—after all, the outside looks like a dilapidated shack—I’m willing to give it a go. Besides, it’s usually restaurants that look like this that serve the best food.

After we place our order, Finn sits forward in his chair and taps his fingers lightly against the top of the table.

“So, tell me something about you.”

Immediately, my mind goes to some of my favorite stories about my best friend and boyfriend, and I start to open my mouth to share. But then I remember all the reasons why I can’t go there. I fiddle with my straw and stare at the ocean.

“Well…my parents divorced when Penn and I were in the fourth grade. My mom moved back down here and remarried a year later and we’ve been coming down every summer since. I love to swim and I race competitively. And you already know that Penn and I are twins, and we’re seventeen. Oh, and we live outside Seattle with my dad.”

“Which one of you was born first?”

Our waitress sets a steaming pot of clams on our table with a platter of garlic bread. The air around us smells like butter and all kinds of goodness, and I realize I may have actually just drooled.

Using the tiny fork the waitress left behind, I snag a few clams and scrape them from their shells. “By luck of the C-section draw, Penn was, but only by thirty-six seconds.”

“Only thirty-six seconds, huh? Bet he holds that one over your head all the time.”

“You have no idea.” I pop a couple of the clams in my mouth and chew slowly, savoring each one. Of course they taste even better than they look. “So what about you?”

“What about me?” He soaks a piece of garlic bread in the broth, then takes a bite. His eyes close for a few seconds as if he’s eating the absolute best thing in the world. From what I’ve tasted so far, he might be right. “Well, I’ll be eighteen at the end of September, and Luce is twelve. But if you ask her, she’ll tell you the exact number of months it is—down to the day and maybe even the minute—until she turns thirteen. We moved here from LA last year when the company my asshole father owns bought the Echelon. But he’s hardly ever here, since this hotel was a package deal with several others over in Asia that he’s trying to get rebranded and opened. He bounces back and forth between Japan, Thailand, LA, and Honolulu, but he’s here the least—only long enough to keep anyone from asking questions about his minor kids living by themselves. Guess that won’t matter once I turn eighteen.”

I’m trying to decide if Finn would rather have his father around or if he prefers that he’s not. I have a sinking feeling it’s the latter, even if that means he’s practically raising Luce on his own. “And your mom?”

His eyes flick my way, then quickly turn out toward the water.

“I’ll tell you what. You tell me how you really broke your hand, and I’ll tell you about my mom.”

I glance at the table and realize we’ve polished off the giant pot of clams, because it’s no longer there. “Nah, you don’t want to hear about that. Besides, it’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Ah, come on, try me.”

“Seriously. It’s just a bunch of crappy drama. Besides, why would you even want to know?”

He sits back in his chair and goes back to drumming his fingers lightly on the table. “Because I’ve seen you in the pool with my sister, so I’m having a hard time believing that’s where you broke it. Plus, I’d like to get to know you better. Drama or not.”

“A few swim lessons in the pool does not a great swimmer make.”

“Oh, come on, Yoda, you’re being modest. Besides, Tawyna Evans has never hired anyone to work for my father after an interview that was shorter than an hour—no matter what the position. And your interview was less than thirty minutes. Answer the question.
Please
.”

I have no idea how he knows about my interview, but he says it so smoothly and all in one breath. And because he was being so direct, I decide I will be, too. I turn to face him straight on and look him square in the eye. “All right, if you really want to know—your very first guess when we met on the beach was correct.”

It takes only a second before that eyebrow of his arches skyward. “Huh, I’ll definitely have to remember that.”

“You do that. But if you say one thing about my thumb being tucked in when I threw the punch, I’ll be forced to try it again, left-handed. Now your turn.
Please
.”

“Whoa, that’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give me?” He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Hey, you only asked how I broke it. You didn’t ask for the details.”

“True that, smart-ass. Fine, I’ll go.” This time he doesn’t hold back his smile, but it also doesn’t take long for it to fade. “My mom walked away from our family when I was ten. Never said why and didn’t bother saying good-bye. I haven’t heard from her since, and I have no idea where she is. My dad was an asshole before, but her leaving made him an even bigger one. Now he’s only around when he absolutely has to be. Which isn’t often. So I take care of Luce.” He takes a sip of water, then sets his glass on the table. “How’s that for drama?”

“Finn, I…That’s…I’m so sorry.” It’s all that comes out and I know it sounds lame, but I realize I have absolutely no idea how to respond—and I get the feeling this isn’t something he’s shared with too many others.

“Yeah, I know, it’s a lot.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But it is what it is and now you know my sob story, so spill.”

I’m grateful he’s letting me off the hook easy. “So…this guy.” I motion toward my cast, in case it wasn’t clear. “I guess you could say we go back a long way, all the way to kindergarten.” I’m still unable to bring myself to say his name out loud, but I smile, remembering a five-year-old Tyler picking me in a game of Heads Up, Seven Up. “I guess in a way it was always him and me.”

I take a breath and decide to just state the facts and hope no emotion comes out with it.

“We’d been dating almost a year when he decided our relationship—or maybe it was me—wasn’t good enough, so he slept with my best friend…
twice
.” I glance at my cast and sigh. “Oh, and he knocked her up, so I broke his nose in three places.”

There. Just the facts. I’m shocked I was able to do it.

We look at each other for a brief second, and I have absolutely no idea what he’s going to say. To any of it. Or if he thinks I’m crazy.

But then he starts to laugh.

And I wonder if maybe he’s the crazy one. Because I can’t believe that’s his reaction. I’ve basically just shared my darkest moments and he’s laughing.

But then I think about everything we just told each other and how ridiculous it all sounds. Honestly, I don’t think we could’ve made up better sob stories if we’d tried. And I realize he’s not laughing at me…he’s laughing at
us
. And before I know it, I’m laughing, too.

“Wow, we’re pretty pathetic, aren’t we?” I say.

“Maybe, but at least we’re good-looking pathetic people, so there’s that.” Ignoring my offer to split the bill, he drops some money on top of the check and stands up. Holding a hand out for mine, he nods toward the beach. “Want to go for a walk?”

The sun is starting to bid its farewell for the day, casting the sky in the most gorgeous shades of purples and reds. Finn silently takes my hand, and it makes me smile. He doesn’t seem nervous in the least and that makes me feel at ease, too—even after I remember that the last boy I held hands with was Tyler.

We walk down to the beach. His fingers feel nice around my own, warm. Comforting even. We walk but don’t speak. And I actually kind of enjoy the silence. We sit and watch the sun set, his eyes catching every curl and dip of each wave, like the ocean is a long-lost friend he misses. And then I remember the photos of him surfing.

“When was the last time you were out?”

His eyes slide carefully over me, then back out to the water. “Well over a year.”

I feel the moment he closes back up. This isn’t a topic he wants to talk about. At least right now. So of course why wouldn’t my phone take this opportunity to beep with an incoming text from Tyler?

Seeing Tyler’s name on my new phone while sitting next to Finn seems, I don’t know…wrong. Like Tyler somehow knows exactly what I’m doing right at this moment and wants to make sure I don’t forget what’s going on back at home. I hit the delete key, wiping my new phone clean once again.

I try to be nonchalant and hide this from Finn, but I can see from the corner of my eye that he knows.

“I should probably get you home,” he says, but he doesn’t move.

I don’t really feel like going home, either. This is the first moment in days I’ve had such a good time. And I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting to feel this great, so soon after everything else that’s happened—and that makes it that much better.

Maybe he feels it, too, because he takes his time getting us back to the south side of the island. For reasons beyond what I’m prepared to acknowledge, I find it much easier for my arms to curl around his waist as I settle in close to his back on the motorcycle.

When we arrive at my house, I hop off the bike, then strip off my helmet. Finn surprises me when he cuts the engine and prods the kickstand in place. Taking his own helmet off, he walks me to my door.

“I’ll bring the helmet to work on Thursday with your clothes. And thanks again for dinner. You were right, one of the best meals I’ve had in a very long time.” My phone beeps again, and I cringe because I know who it’s from.

“You’re more than welcome. I’d really like to do it again sometime.” He smiles, ignoring my phone, which beeps a second time almost immediately. “Besides, if you thought that was good, I know several other restaurants that are even better.”

“Better than what we just ate? Oh, I’m
so
in.” I reach for the handle on the front door. “Would you like to come in?”

“Not that I wouldn’t love to, but I’ve got a hot date with my little sister and some romcom I promised I would watch with her.” With his hands in the air, he shakes his head. “But definitely some other time?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his hand. “Good night, Sloane.”

“Good night.”

I watch him walk back to his bike and start it up. He gives me a quick wave before he speeds away.

I look down at what I’m wearing, and the massive sweatshirt that still smells like him.

And realize there’s a solid chance I’ll end up sleeping in it tonight.

Mick is on my mind this morning, probably because I accidentally read a text from her, thinking it was from Mia. And boy was that a mistake.

Ha. I’m the one being immature because I’ve decided to take time for me. Because I’m not responding according to
her
timeline. Because she thinks I should forgive her so easily.

I can’t believe her. And I can’t believe she has the nerve to be mad at me.

But I’m over it as soon as I hear the doorbell ring because my day is about to get a thousand times better.

“Hey, guys—good morning.” I hold the door open for Luce and Finn to come in, but Finn only grunts as he passes by and I think it’s because he hasn’t quite woken up yet. Which I completely understand. It’s barely seven in the morning and all our other lessons have been later in the day.

I’ve been teaching Luce to swim for almost two weeks now, and Finn has been with her ever since that first day. And I have to admit, I’m kind of glad he’s decided to tag along.

“Good morning, Slo! What’s my lesson today?” She’s all static energy this early in the morning, and she seems to get more excited the more comfortable she gets in the water. We’ve already mastered the float, both on her stomach and her back. Teaching her to submerge her head underwater was a bit trickier and took over two lessons, but by the end of the second one, she was definitely getting the hang of it. I taught her how to kick using a kickboard during another lesson, and within an hour, she was motoring around the shallow end of the pool. We then moved on to the doggie paddle and the crawl, and earlier this week, she’d done a stellar job at treading water.

“Today we’ll be putting everything you’ve learned together. And maybe your brother and Penn will get in the water with us?” I eye Finn as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, dark sunglasses in place. He actually could be asleep for all I know. At least I hope that’s what it is. “Yeah…maybe he needs some coffee first. I brewed a fresh pot in the kitchen. Help yourself,” I say to Finn. “Cream is in the fridge.”