Page 6 of Cabin Fever

We have a small ballroom booked out for reminiscing at the welcome dinner, then the rehearsal. Next we stop at Cozumel, then another sea day with the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Next is one long day on Grand Cayman, where seventy-three people will watch my sister marry Theo on a beach at four in the afternoon in hopefully good weather.

Then we have one full day at sea after the wedding with nothing on the calendar. No plans. A blank white square that I can’t wait to dip my toes into.

The water cuts off in the bathroom, and every one of my senses perks up. I start working on purchasing internet access for the day so that I look busy when Finn steps out of the bathroom. It’s a good thing I moved fast. In seconds, the door slides open and Finn emerges in a cloud of steam, the tiniest white towel I’ve ever seen wrapped around his waist.

I turn and blink. “Is that a hand towel?”

Finn makes a face. “I dunno. I just grabbed it. Didn’t want to assault your eyes.” He snaps the consonants on those last words.

I purse my lips. “Did you dry yourself off with that?”

“Why, you want it?” He moves like he’s going to rip it off and throw it at me, and I hold up a hand with a desperate, “NO!”

Finn’s laughing at the sheer terror on my face. “What the hell, Harp? You’ve already seen me naked.”

“Yeah! When we were, like, fourteen!”

“Same diff.”

“Is it?” It feels very much not the same. For one, I actually have boobs now. Well, one and a half.

“You know, most women would appreciate this view.” Finn walks closer, smelling like fresh rain, and I slam my laptop shut, sliding out of the chair like my skeleton dissolved so he can get past me to his drawer.

“I guess I’m not most women.”

“You never were.”

My face heats. I want to fight back with some dig, but everything in my head sounds juvenile, so I stand there, steaming.

“Looks like the whole party’s on Deck Six.” Finn holds the towel with one hand, reaching for what I can only assume is another pair of his Spandex boxers. “Feels like Larkspur. All of us stacked up on one street again.”

“It's nothing like Larkspur.”

“Little bit like Larkspur.” He turns with a grin.

I swallow hard. “Well, then I guess I won’t see you much.”

He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrug. “When you got older, you were too cool to stick around long, Gallagher. You'd show up, do a lap, decide the Quinns were too boring for you, and vanish back over the fence.”

Something crosses his face, quick, like a muscle tick, and then he turns back to the drawer. “That's not . . . huh. Not how I remember it.”

I roll my eyes. I’m sure he barely remembers anything after he grew six inches and armpit hair. But I do. Easy to pay attention when you have a soul-aching, heart-breaking crush on someone.

Our yards backed up to each other, which was convenient when things weren’t weird. But when he was fifteen and I was fourteen, there seemed to always be a girl laughing in his yard with Finn lying next to them on his trampoline, messing up their hair or tickling them. And I would stand there wanting to be old enough and pretty enough to be a girl in that yard instead of the kid with a training bra on the wrong side of the fence.

Finn and I still talked even though he was seeing other girls. I cared, but not enough to blow up our friendship. A few years later, Finn took care of that all by himself.

“Anyway,” I say. “Are you done in there? I’m going to⁠—”

“So what do you do these days? When you're not running weddings for free.” Finn starts to drop the towel, and I flip around so fast I almost give myself whiplash.

“I’m a recruiter for Amplify.” My heart races, knowing he’s naked back there. What is wrong with me?

“You like it?” he asks.

“I'm good at it.”