Later Finn and I kiss, lips cold and then hot against the backdrop of the Baltic Sea. It’s a kiss that feels foreign and evocative all at once, a kiss that taps back into a long-forgotten thrill. There’s not been anyone since Joel—and I’m trying to forget him now, the way his touch coursed through me in currents. Because I fancy Finn, and I already know that this could be something good.
It’s time to move on. Joel said that was what he wanted for me, andkissing Finn beneath the stars tonight seems like a pretty great place to start.
•••
And then, because I want to, because it feels right, I ask Finn into my cabin.
There was a time when I couldn’t imagine wanting to be with anyone other than Joel. And that almost terrified me more than the idea of moving on. I feared being dogged for eternity by subconscious comparisons I’d never be able to override—because how could anyone ever kiss me the way Joel did?
But being with Finn reminds me that there are a million kinds of mind-blowing. He’s confident, I soon discover, as our kisses intensify. He’s reallygoodat this stuff—bold and undaunted, emphatic, vocal. And in the end it is this self-assurance that saves us, because Finn’s hot in a way I can’t ignore, in a way that blazes straight through any thoughts I might have had of Joel. We don’t once stop for breath, and it’s the most thrilling surprise, that Finn has roused something in me I was worried I’d lost forever.
•••
The next morning we’re up at first light, sitting on the rocks atop a spear of sand. We’re the only ones out here, watching the air turn apricot as the sun begins to rise. Like we’re shipwrecked on our own private island.
Up in the sky, a river of migrating birds is rushing over our heads, a surging torrent of beating wings. Finn points all the different species out to me as they pass. I can hardly keep up, but not just because of the birds—I feel dazed and quietly jubilant that this man is by my side, charismatic and attentive, a warm hand around mine and a cloud-nine smile. He woke me this morning with kisses at dawn—kisses that took only seconds to become more.
We spend the morning on the beach, walking hand in hand like we’vebeen together for years. Snatching glances at each other, stealing kisses against trees. At midday we drive to a local café, where Finn makes a valiant attempt to order lunch at the counter in Latvian.
“What did you ask for?” I whisper, when he joins me at the table I’ve bagged.
He laughs. “I have absolutely no idea.”
In the end the food is excellent—two mountainous salads, drinks, and cakes stuffed with cream. We follow it up—unwisely, perhaps—with an afternoon dip in a river nearby. And when the light begins to dim, we drive deep into the pine forest on the trail of capercaillie, windows wound down low. And though we don’t find the bird we’re looking for, and we nearly get the car stuck doing a twenty-point turn, we can’t seem to stop laughing and I can’t help thinking,I could really fall for you.
Still, I’m trying hard not to expect anything, because there’s a tiny part of my heart that will always belong to Joel.
•••
Twenty-four hours later, at the airport in Riga, I feel elated to glance down at my phone and see a message from Finn:
Hey Callie. Haven’t done this in a while (!) so not quite sure what the rules are here... BUT can I just say it was amazing to meet you and I would love, love to see you again. If that appeals.
Then another message pings through:
To me this felt... well, pretty epic.
And another:
(Should add that if it didn’t to you—no hard feelings at all! But here’s hoping.) x
Then one more:
Okay, shut up Finn. Gonna let you catch your plane now. Safe flight, travels, everything. Speak soon, I hope x
I think about switching off my phone, waiting until I’m home and a few days have passed before responding. But after five minutes or so of smiling to myself and rereading his messages, I realize I don’t want to.
So, as they’re calling my gate, I tap out a reply:
Amazing to meet you too. A meet-up sounds good. Your place or mine?! x
80.
Joel—two years after
Kieran stops by a garden wall, either for a breather or to throw up. I guess I’m about to find out.
“What the hell’s happened to you?” he wheezes.
