He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. What he meant was quite clear. Finn was temporary. Short-term. Unserious.
Butwashe, I wondered? Because he was the one who’d asked me out. And that seemed like a lot, coming from someone like Finn, who wasn’t exactly into formalities.
As Noah’s words landed, Finn faltered. He popped open a cider, fiddling with the ring-pull as he tried to figure out how to respond. In the end, he didn’t: he just turned to Jack and engaged him in conversation. Jack awkwardly went along with it, even though the topic was how a brontosaurus should wear a necktie.
Glancing up, I caught Noah’s eye. His gaze was electric, and there was a depth to it, apassionthere that surprised me.All right, so he shouldn’t have snapped at Finn like that. But hehadspent all afternoon helping prepare dinner. And he was protective of me – he always had been.
My ring was fizzing against my skin, and I frowned as I glanced down at it. Had another of the moonstones broken? I rubbed my thumb over it. I wasn’t imagining it. A third stone had gone dark. Strange.
For some reason, I thought of Josephine’s words:You only get so many chances to tell someone how you feel.
‘So, what did I miss?’ Tiff came waltzing out, phone out in front of her. She’d rung off with Damien, and now had Dad on a video call. She flashed Dad around so that he could say hello to everyone, then started pointing her phone screen at the various dishes, describing in detail the spread that Noah and I had put together.
I’d never been more relieved to see my sister and her ever-present FaceTime screen.
‘And what’s this one, Noah?’ Tiff asked, pointing to a roasted eggplant dish topped with spices.
‘Imam bayildi,’ said Noah, holding it up so that Dad could see. ‘And the eggplant dip next to it is a baba ganoush. Molly helped with that one.’
‘I turned on the food processor and everything,’ I said proudly.
‘Look at Master Chef over here,’ said Finn. ‘Hey, Rufus. How’s bachelor life?’
‘Mostly TV re-runs and cruffins from the bakery on the corner,’ said Dad airily. ‘How’s whatever you’re up to?’
‘It’s … I’m …’ For what I was pretty sure was the first time in his life, Finn stumbled on his words. He recovered promptly, though, and began waxing lyrical about the wonders of the beach-bum life.
‘And your music,’ I added helpfully.
Finn didn’t respond, but I saw him pause as he scooped up a mound of hummus on a piece of flatbread. When hefinally glanced up, there was something new in his eyes. Something deeper than the usual playfulness.
The others chatted away, talking about the whisperwinds they’d heard and the upcoming pumpkin-carving competition at the Hammer and Thistle. I joined in with a quick brag about my golf-cart efforts this afternoon. The topic had shifted to Mom’s workload – which Lara airily responded to by suggesting she hire a personal assistant – when I felt a nudge against my ankle.
Whose foot was that? I stole a glance down. Well, at least it wasn’t Jack. Lara was keeping him plenty busy. I was going to have to pretend I hadn’t noticed what they’d been up to since Lara had lured his attention back from Finn.
With a flash of magic, my fork flipped off the table and landed on the ground.
I frowned. What was going on?
Ducking beneath the table to retrieve my fork, I found myself face to face with Finn.
‘We should make a break for it,’ he whispered. ‘Make our own party. Youdoowe me a date.’
I was sorely tempted. But Noah had spent hours helping me put together tonight’s dinner. I couldn’t ditch him after how generous he’d been.
‘I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,’ added Finn. ‘Besides, they’re not going to notice we’re gone. They’re starting to get on to politics, and once they start, they’ll go for hours.’
Rosiedidlike to speak at length about her latest postcard-writing campaign (there seemed to be one every week).
‘C’mon,’ he said, reaching for my hand. ‘I’ll apply a glamour spell so they don’t notice us leaving.’
‘You’re terrible at glamours,’ I whispered.
‘I am not! I never get caught. Well, barely ever. Trust me.’
He pulled me over to his side of the table, then, under the cover of magic, we raced back into the house, giggling.
‘Ta-da!’ he cried as we burst through the back door, leapingover the back of the huge sectional couch and collapsing on it the way we’d done when we were kids.
