“Maybe.” I squeezed the wedge of lime into my drink. Neither of us realized then that Sebastian would become one of the most important—and most turbulent—relationships in Sybil’s life. But then again, there’s a lot we hadn’t yet realized.
There was a beat of silence, and I was aware that Finn and I were alone together for the first time since the Pool Incident. The memory of my lips on Finn’s neck was the only thing I could think of. My glass paused halfway to my mouth, and I wondered what his skin tasted like without the hint of chlorine. My lips parted involuntarily. Finn’s eyes darted to my mouth, but he took a drink of his beer and cleared his throat. “You should come out to SF sometime.”
The offer took me by surprise enough that I was jolted out of the memory. I put my drink back down without taking a sip. “That would be fun.”
Without Sybil, the easy flow we’d had at dinner dried up. Now there was a crackle in the air between us. Finn had rolled up the sleeves of his light blue button-up and begun peeling the label off his beer bottle. There was a slightly nervous energy to his movements. I watched the small muscles shift along the back of his hand as he ripped the green-and-black label into smaller and smaller pieces. It was indecent that men were allowed to walk around with their forearms just out in the open. I forced myself to think of Preston, who also had beautiful wrists and hands and arms.
“What’s Pneuma?” I asked, motioning to the logo embroidered on his vest.
“It’s my start-up. It means ‘breath’ in Greek. I’m actually out here taking some investor meetings.” He looked slightly embarrassed.
“Oh, cool.” I winced inwardly that I couldn’t think of anything more interesting to say. Finn had his own company, and I was still assisting on projects. I felt that old surge of competitiveness I used to get around Finn during debate prep. The urge to prove myself his equal. But now, with the gimlet eyes of hindsight, I could admit that Finn had never actually made me feel like I was less than. In high school he was suitably intimidated by my arguing skills, and I knew if I told him about my new job now, he’d be excited for me. That he’d have nothing but respect for where I was in my career.
“Sybil said y’all have a rooftop.”
Finn’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.
“We do. Technically.” As in, it was a roof. Not a roofdeck. Not a rooflounge. Not a roof anything, just a tar-covered, puddle-filled, dangerously low-walled roof covered in pigeon poop… and perfect for parties. Our lease specifically forbade us from using it, but that had not stopped us in the past. Finn looked at me expectantly. “Do you want to see it?”
His eyes didn’t leave my face. “I do.”
“Let’s walk,” I said. I didn’t think I could handle another cab ride.
“DON’T LET THAT GETknocked loose,” I told Finn, motioning toward the old wooden cheese board I’d wedged into the doorjamb to keep it open, “or we’ll have to spend the night up here.There’s no way I could get Sybil to leave Sebastian now that she’s with him.”
Finn headed straight to the waist-high wall at the edge of the roof, leaning against it and looking north at the rest of Manhattan. You could see both the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building from our rooftop. Even after having lived in the city for a year, moments like this made me feel like I was inside someone else’s life.
“How’s the boyfriend?” Finn asked.
“I mean, you probably know as much as I do. He’s a photojournalist who—”
“Not Sybil’s,” Finn interrupted. “Yours.”
He angled his body toward me, one elbow propped up against the ledge of the rooftop. I hadn’t spoken about Preston at all during dinner. Finn must have learned of his existence from Sybil.
“Preston’s a, you know, crew guy,” I said with a shrug, frustrated at myself that I couldn’t come up with a more specific description.
“Ah, I know the type. They wake up at five a.m. to row,” he said with a smirk.
“Exactly.” Then, since Finn and I were just friends and this was the kind of thing you could say to a friend, I added, “And, you know, he’s superhot, supersmart. All around… super.”
“Oh, I bet.” Finn smiled.
“So tell me about the girlfriend,” I asked.
He squinted his eyes at me as if he was debating telling me something. Whatever he read on my face must have been enough encouragement, because he said, “Pilar asked me about an open relationship a few days ago.”
I blinked twice, unsure how to respond. “Is that what you want?”
Finn’s mouth was a grim line, communicating his unspokenno. “The deal with relationships,” he said after a beat, folding his arms across his chest, “is that the person who wants the most freedom gets to set the terms.”
“You could set the terms by no longerbeing inthe relationship though,” I offered. He shrugged and turned back to looking at the skyline. “What’s she like?” I asked, mirroring his position and looking out at the sea of lights in front of us. I wondered what kind of woman could catch Finn’s attention so thoroughly that he’d be willing to consider sharing her.
“Smart, ambitious.” He turned to look at me. “Total smoke show. You know, my usual type.”
“Of course.” I nodded. Then, because I couldn’t help picking at it, I asked, “Why even have a relationship if you want to have it open?”
“I think they work for some people. I’m not sure I’m one of them though.”
