“Choose a guy that isn’t going to make me run into traffic now, please.”
Yeah . . . as if that’s going to be an easy task.
10
If I werewith anyone other than Finn right now, the police would have already hauled me away in the back of a cop car.
The list of men he’s pretended to be tonight shows no sign of stopping by the time we reach the seventh hole, and he fumbles, dropping his ball. Tripping over his feet, my ex-best friend bumps into me and laughs while I consider tossing my club into the small moat beside us and then drowning him.
“Oh, I’m just so clumsy! Sorry.”
“Clumsy is one word for it.”
He scrambles for his ball along the turfed course before finally grabbing it and running back toward the starting position. The light in his eyes keeps me from scolding him for this ridiculous role.
“Do you mind standing over to the side a bit?” he asks, placing his ball on the ground and standing in position.
I lunge away from him, placing a wide gap between us.
“I just don’t want to accidentally swing at your face, you know?”
“Oh, of course. You’re so thoughtful.”
I can hear his smirk when he says, “Thank you! I think sometimes people assume I’m just this messy, clumsy guy, but I’m a real sweetheart.”
“Messy?”
He laughs awkwardly and attempts to swing his club. Apparently, he’s so committed to this bit that he’s willing to injure himself, because in a blink, he’slosing his balanceand falling forward onto his knees. The move is so sudden I don’t have half a second to retreat before he crumbles onto the turf and rolls onto his back. My foot gets trapped beneath his weight as he howls into the night, reaching over himself to cup his shin.
“How embarrassing! I’m sorry you’ve had to see me like this!” he cries out, shaking his head free of his cap.
“Get up, Finn. I swear?—”
“Please! Don’t give up on me yet. I swear I can be better. Just help me up!”
“This is when I’d leave if you were quite literallyanybodyelse, by the way,” I tell him tightly before offering him my hand. “You’d be blocked by the time I reached the parking lot.”
“What if I had a heart of gold but was just a bit too loud and clumsy?”
Taking my hand, he readjusts his fallen hat and pushes to his feet. His warmth overwhelms me when he stands close, his bright eyes full of mischief. I try to stay firm, but it’s always been hard to do that with him. We shouldn’t get along the way we do, considering how opposite we are. I’m stern and planned, and he’s lighthearted and living every day as they come.
Yet here he is, making me want to try to open myself up to the goal he’s been wanting me to accomplish. To be willing to overlook a few flaws to see a person who may be perfect for me beneath them. It’s a task that I haven’t been able to succeed at in my entire life.
Finn strokes my knuckles once before releasing my hand and stepping back. “You hate chaos, Bree. We both know that, but do you really think that if you found a guy you liked enough, you wouldn’t be able to overlook that a bit?”
“Being chaotic isn’t a flaw, Finn. It’s a part of someone’s genetic makeup. I’m sure I could overlook some little things if I enjoyed the man’s presence enough, but that? It’s the opposite of who I am.”
I’ve done it before with every man I’ve dated. And look where I am now. Where it got me.
“That’s fair. I’ve only got one more date to test you with.”
I swallow a groan. “Please don’t make it worse than the others.”
“I won’t.” He takes his place by the three plastic sunflowers and taps his ball with just enough pressure to have it winding up the small hill toward the narrowing pipe leading to the hole. “If I sink this, you owe me a kiss on the cheek.”
My brow jumps as I watch him follow the ball up the course, digesting those words. “You’re that confident in your putt-putt skills?”
“No, but I’m willing to take a shot at something I really want on the off chance I succeed.”
