“Oh,” he says casually, but I can tell by the way his body shifts that he’s surprised. Silence stretches between us, and I’m about to bolt, feeling so embarrassed that tears are stinging my vision when he casually wraps his hand around my waist. “I think I’m going to head out. Weekend practice starts tomorrow.”
He announces to the group, and surprisingly, a few agree to get going too. Soon we’re all walking to the parking lot area. I could kiss him again; I’m so thankful for him not making this situation weird or making a joke about it. Instead, he just decided to leave too. He’s leaving because I am. Finn is still holding my hand while walking me to my car and talking to one of the guys that I barely notice when Angel slides to my side.
“Be careful, okay. Your parents, I know how they are.”
“What do you mean?” I glance at her, my heart clenching with worry. Her eyes slide to Finn, then back to me.
“That’s Finn Kinsella.”
His name hits me and almost knocks the wind from my lungs. Kinsella. I’ve heard his family’s name around town even though they don’t live here. Finn’s family lives in a neighboring town that is similar to mine in that old, southern money runs it. Social standing is everything, as well as family legacy. The Kinsella’s reputation has taken a tumble from grace in the past few years, with more drama than I care to remember. None of it good.
“You know I don’t care about that stuff,” I whisper back, and my best friend gives me a genuine smile.
“I know that. I just want you to be aware so that you can tell Finn that too when it comes up.”
She squeezes me tightly, but then goes back to Jered while Finn walks me over to my car. I hear him chuckle under his breath and I glance at him. “What?”
“Win, is that thing even legal to be on the road?” His chin lifts in the direction of my vintage classic, light blue Volkswagen Beetle.
“Of course,” I roll my eyes at his snickering. “You heard how protective my parents are, like my father would let me drive anything that wasn’t safe on the road.”
Finn’s smile drops at my words, and he moves closer when my arms wrap around my middle protectively. “Hey.” His fingers pinch my jaw lightly, moving my head so I’m looking up at him. “I want you to be safe, Daisy. Call me when you get home?”
“Okay,” I manage to get out before his mouth covers mine again. This time, our lips move urgently and are full of need. His fingers dig into my sides, and my hands wrap around his neck. Before I can climb up his body, though, he pulls away, breathing hard.
“Damnit, Winnie,” he breathes out, his hands running through my curls. “You’re fucking perfect. Call me. I mean it. This doesn’t end here.”
I can’t speak. My lips are tingling, and my body is warm from where his hands were holding me. My brain is in a fog, and all I can think about is this man in front of me. His scent, his eyes, god those eyes and how they darken when he’s just kissed me. His taste and how I want him to be mine. I barely manage to nod my head before he opens my car door and helps me inside.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says, his voice raspy when he knocks his knuckles on the top of my car before closing the door.
Only then do I manage to pull myself out of my thoughts and start up my car, trying my hardest not to look in my rearview mirror. This whole night could have just been a one-off. There is a chance I’ll wake up tomorrow and it won’t be as magical as it feels right now. If I look and I don’t see him, my heart will break, but if I do see him…
My eyes lift.
Finn stands there in my tail lights, his hands in his front pockets, watching.
Chapter 2
Finn, age 17
Ishould never have agreed to go to the county fair tonight. The second that Noah mentioned it, I had no interest. I would have been fine staying at the field all night practicing, having a bonfire by the lake, or fuck even going to the arcade. Somehow, I let my idiot friends talk me into it; they were all jazzed about seeing girls from other schools and the rides. Which I also didn’t mind. Anything for an adrenaline rush, and honestly, I would do anything not to be in my house. So I caved and tagged along.
Nothing could have prepared me, though, to have my world flipped upside down, my foundation shaken, the way it felt the first time I saw her. I wasn’t lying on the Ferris wheel when I said I noticed her dress first. The innocent blue color with white daisies printed on the fabric called to me. My gaze had slid to her cute as fuck ankle height boots, up her bare legs, that my hands itched to touch, over the dress to her long blonde hair that looked silky, and I honestly just wanted to play with the curls at the ends. I’ll never forget how her spine seemed to straighten, as if she felt my gaze on her back, before she turned around and our eyes met. I’m not usually the type of guy who goes aroundthinking this way. I don’t usually think about girls being cute or adorable either, but she was different. And right then, I knew I was a goner. Those deep, mahogany brown eyes, her small nose with a faint spray of freckles, and those lips. They looked naturally red, as if she were eating strawberries all day. I knew I had to have her.
Winnie.
Winnifred Carmichael.
Win.
My daisy.
The untouchable girl. Yet tonight I held her, kissed her, and felt my soul move for her. I know about her family. They’re wealthy like mine, with years spent in southern society. Her parents are pillars in their community, rooted in faith after losing their oldest daughter, and making their money from lumber and housing. Unlike my family, their wealth isn’t seeped in blood and mystery.
I wondered if Winnie knew who I was, what my last name meant. I wondered if she would even want anything to do with me after she did find out. Besides the guys on the lacrosse team, I had lost a lot of my friends when the accident happened, and the gossip started not long after. My father was on drugs, drinking, and driving when he crashed into another car, instantly killing an innocent teenager, but also his passenger. His passenger was just one of the many young women that he had been having affairs with. That happened when I was a young child, and after that, my mother left him. Left us. When I turned ten, he remarried but continued to spiral into drugs and more alcohol. He spent most nights on his bathroom floor or in the shower, with our staff or me trying to save him from overdosing. My stepmother, one of my father’s many women, brought with her my half-brother, Declan, who was older than me. Doing the math on that made me realize my father was probably neverfaithful to my mom when they were married, and, once again, I found myself understanding why she left. Even though it meant understanding why she left me as well. Between Declan, who had a gambling problem at twenty, and Rose, my stepmother, who spent more money than my father earned, and was gone most nights meeting up with random young men, my family continued to be the center of scandal.
Even now, standing outside the front door, my stomach twists just thinking about going in. All the good feelings from the night are slowly slipping away. Winnie's touch, her smile, the way her hair blew in the breeze, everything warm about her is fading, and quickly being replaced by the cold, lonely dread I’m used to. A crash from inside the house makes me jump, and my heart races. I can hear raised voices and know I need to go in to help diffuse whatever situation is likely occurring before the cops are called.
