Finn takes my hand and pulls me closer to him. “I wanted to talk to you. I know you might have a few regrets about how—”
Before he can continue, I put my fingers to his lips. Because the truth is, I don’t regret what happened with Finn two nights ago in the hammock (and on the hood of his car the next morning). I don’t regret what happened on my rooftop years back. Or really, any single moment between us—I’ve only ever wantedmoreof them. My only regrets are the things I didn’t say, mistakes I didn’t let myself make. I know now that all my bitterness and frustration with Finn over the years was compounded by other wounds—ones I’m only now realizing need healing. It wasn’t about prom, or a kiss in the pool, or a rooftop hookup, or an ex-girlfriend rearing her gorgeous head. It was about Finn and me—wanting to trust each other, but not fully trusting ourselves enough to go there.
I can finally admit to myself that I love him. I’ve loved him for a long time, and even if he doesn’t love me back, I owe it to Finn to give him all the facts so he can make his own decision. I take a deep breath and look up at him, feeling the old nervous energy overtake me. I look up into Finn’s whiskey-brown eyes and pull my fingers from his lips, slipping my hands into his. “So, there’s something I need to tell you too.”
Finn smiles back at me. “Okay, shoot.”
Where to start?Maybe if I think of it in debate terms… “I know you’ve been up-front about not wanting to be in a relationship,” I say tentatively, like an opening statement, “but Iwould put forth the argument that maybe you should reconsider. Being in a relationship, that is. And furthermore, I think it should be with me.”
Finn’s smile grows. But my heart is suspended in the air, and I don’t know if it’s going to take flight or smash to the ground.
“Hmm,” he says, “do you have any evidentiary support for this argument?”
“We get along, mostly. You can keep up with my quips—not an easy feat, by the way. You’re not horribly unattractive, and I, of course, am gorgeous,” I rattle off, ignoring Finn’s eye roll. “Plus, we have pretty amazing sex. I wasn’t lying about your prowess,” I add, and Finn barks out a laugh that can only be described as giddy. “And there’s the fact that I haven’t been able to shake you for the better part of a decade, so I might as well accept that you’re going to be a permanent fixture in my life, Finn Hughes.”
“So you’re resigning yourself to me, after all this time?” Finn says. I can’t tell if the joke is another way of just playing along with me, or if there’s hurt there, or something more.
“Well, yeah, but there’s one last point I need to make,” I say, putting on my serious, about-to-crush-a-debate face.
“I’m ready for it.”
“Are you?” I tease.
He looks at me. “I’m ready,” he says. And in that moment, I hear my cue. He’s ready. He’s ready for whatever is next. And so am I.
“My closing argument is that, when all is said and done…” The sun shines over the sea, ringing Finn’s head in light, and I have to squint as I say it, my eyes tearing from the brightness. “I love you.”
For a second, I feel as if I’ve stepped backward off the Santa Monica Mountains, that I’m free-falling into the Pacific. And then Finn’s voice brings me back to the present with a soft laugh. “Damn” is all he says.
“‘Damn’? I say I love you and you say ‘damn’?!” I smack him on the chest, and he laughs.
“I’m just… processing,” he says.
“Processing? What do you need to process?”
“Well…” He looks down. “It’s been a helluva long weekend, and we’re both tired and—”
“Are you saying you don’t believe me?”
He looks back up, straight into my eyes. “I want to believe you, Emma. More than anything. I’m just… scared.”
At this, I burst into laughter. “Well, Finn, that makes two of us.”
“Yeah, I guess it does,” he whispers. His half grin sends sparks through me, and then he’s leaning down toward me, and his lips open against mine, and I’m flying.
After a few minutes, Finn pulls back slightly, but I keep my hand on his cheek. “Are you sure? Because I…”Ask him, Emma. Just ask him.“I need to know how you feel. I need to know what you really want.” I need more, deserve more, than a simpleI guess.
“Emma, you have to know that I’ve wanted to be with you since I was sixteen.”
“What?” I say dumbly.
He blushes and turns to kiss the palm of my hand. I can’t help smiling when he says, “I’d get drunk with Sybil and tell her how you were out of my league.”
“Sybilknew? Wait, what would she say? I can’t believe shedidn’t tell me.” My hand moves from Finn’s cheek to his neck. I can’t stop touching him.
“She mostly agreed that as long as I didn’t have the balls to tell you how I felt, then youwereout of my league. She did yell at me about showing up to Vail with Pilar.”
“Good.” I laugh and run a hand under both of my eyes again.
