“Maybe. But you deserve better.”
She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. Weird how it’s obvious when you’ve said something another person hasn’t heard much. Like you can see it land.
“Look, Finley.” She paused, taking a breath. “You saw my mom. My house. Where I was sleeping before you offered me an actual bed.”
“I did,” I said quietly.
“My life isn’t like yours. There’s a lot of things that are broken,” she told me. “My heart doesn’t have to be one of them, though. I learned that a long time ago.”
This was so sad. I also knew to respect it.
“Well, I have to say I’m grateful for your expertise,” I said now. “Not sure where I’d be without it.”
“I do,” she said. “Thinking about mastodons, waiting for Colin to change his mind.”
I made a face. “Scary prospect.”
“Don’t worry. There was no way I’d stand for that,” she said. “I would have thrown your phone in the lake myself.”
I didn’t doubt that. Instead of saying this, though, I just smiled as she turned and shifted her gaze to the water.An emotional day,Liz had said. It really had been. We sat there together, watching it end.
“Is this seat taken?”
It was the first time I’d been alone since arriving at the Pavilion, and Clark had only just walked away a moment earlier. Which meant this approach of a dark-haired guy sporting a noticeable sunburn on his face had been carefully timed.
I looked at the slim, crooked piece of lumber sticking out of the sand on which I was perched. “Actually—”
Before I could finish, he’d plopped down. Something about the way he sat—slightly hunched, beer both clutched and balanced on one knee—seemed familiar, even before he said, “I’m Scott. Where you from?”
In seconds, I’d retrieved his last name—Crawley—as well as Lana’s summary of him as someone whose game had long been played out with the locals. Another reason, I was sure, he’d decided on me.
“Lakeview,” I replied. I looked over at Lana, who was openly flirting with a Black girl in cutoffs and a baseball hat that said, simply,DEAL WITH IT.A redhead in a flowered maxi dress, obviously invested, stood about a foot away, eyes narrowed over her red cup. “My friends will be right back.”
“Sure, sure,” Scott Crawley replied, in such a way I was pretty sure he’d paid no attention to my reply. “So you like tubing?”
Before I could answer, music again started up from over on the half-roofed platform. When I looked over, I saw Ben, nodding at the girl on banjo as she began to strum something. Hector, again in his fringed vest, added an unfortunate hip swivel as the pace sped up, a few people up front clapping along.
Scott Crawley was still waiting for my reply, probably so he could plug in whatever he usually said next. Instead, I put my hand to my ear, wiggling my fingers in a sorry-it’s-so-loud-I-can’t-hear-you fashion in the hopes he’d move on.
“Tubing,”he repeated instead, then nodded at the lake. “On the water?”
“Finley.” I looked up to see Cardoon, a cup in each hand. “Here’s that beer you wanted. Sorry it took a minute.”
It was, in fact, the first time I’d seen him since that morning at the Egg. Although there was no need for Scott Crawley to know this.
“That’s okay,” I replied, gesturing as widely for him to take a nearby seat as I had not to Scott.
“No problem.” He sat. “Least I can do for Clark’s favorite cousin.”
Scott looked at me. “Clark Perry?”
I nodded. “You know him?”
“She’s also Lana’s roommate,” Cardoon added. “Crazy, huh?”
With the first name, I could see Scott reconsider. After the second, he was on his feet, mumbling something about needing another beer before slinking away.
“Wow,” I said once he was out of earshot. “Thanks for running him off.”
