“There’s nothing between us,” I say, and it’s the truth, no matter how much it stings. “And even if there were, she’s as much a part of this town as the mountains.”
Holden’s gaze slices over to mine. “And you’re not?”
I never felt like I belonged in this town until I stepped in the Blankenship’s home my freshman year of high school, but I can’t bring myself to say that, to bare myself that completely. I’d hate leaving it, but I found my place here, and I’m sure I could do it somewhere new too.
“I’m good at not getting attached,” I say with a bitter smile.
He’s quiet for a long moment, staring at the side of my face, before he shakes his head and looks back at the view. “That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”
He’s right, but my throat is too thick to say so. My heart is still beating too fast from the run, and sweat is drying on my skin in the wind. Every part of me feels too wired, too frayed, too raw. So I stay silent, and thankfully, he doesn’t say anything for a long time.
We watch the sun fully crest over the mountains, blanketing the world in light, washing away my bad attitude. I feel like my soul has gone through the shredder.
Finally, when my feet are starting to go numb, my limbs aching with the waning adrenaline, Holden says, “I’m not running back. I’m too old for this.”
It makes a laugh crack out of my throat, echoing over the mountains. I think I see a faint twitch of his lips.
“I’m calling Wren and telling her to pick us up.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say. After he makes the call, I ask, “So how did you know this place was here?”
“It’s mine and Wren’s spot,” he says, and that soft look that seems to come over him any time he talks about Wren or June crops up on his face.
I give him a pointed look, raising my brows, feeling a smirk twitch on my lips. “Your spot for what?”
He rolls his eyes. “To look, jackass.” A pause, and then, “And occasionally that.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in a long time, especially when my grumpy best friend even cracks a smile.
I’ll miss this if I go to Maine.
This morning is oneof those rare mornings that I get Nora all to myself. She texted me before sunrise and told me that she had gotten her mom to watch the kids and that we were getting breakfast. I was still asleep when she showed up at my apartment, pounding on my door. She picked out my outfit while I was in the shower, which is how I ended up in the tiniest pair of denim shorts I own and a slim-fitting ribbed tank that makes me look like I have a lot more going for me than I actually do.
“This outfit is ridiculous,” I say, staring at my cleavage as we settle down for breakfast at a pancake house that has been here since before the town was officially incorporated, back when Fontana Ridge used to be a lumberjack camp. It’s directly across the street from Unlikely Places, so every time I walk outside, I get to smell warm pancakes and sugary sweet syrup.
Nora smiles widely at me from over the top of her giant, sticky menu. “You look great. Very come and get it.”
I give her a flat look. “I’m supposed to begottenalready.”
“How is that going, by the way?”
I wish I had an answer for her, but lately, everything has felt jumbled. Grey doesn’t feel like the person I’ve known forever. He’s different, and I think I like him more for it.
Nora’s eyes narrow. “Do you like him?”
“No,” I protest. Maybe a little vehemently, because she looks even more suspicious. I lower my voice and repeat, “No. But things feel fuzzy, I guess. He’s different from what I expected.”
I’ve been looking, Finley, just like you.
That threw me. Made me adjust my view. Look at the past years in a new light. And then there was everything else. Sitting in his lap, feeling his hands and breath on my skin. Showing him my idea for the bookstore, watching his eyes light up with enthusiasm. The way he calmed me down in the wake of the conversation with Gus. How he held my hair back when I threw up after Wren and Holden’s wedding, then stayed with me when I asked.
All of these things are sohim, but in a way that feels different and new, and I don’t know what to make of it.
“Good different?” Nora asks, lifting one brow.
I pause for a long moment before nodding, just a dip of my chin. “Yeah, good different.”
She takes a sip of her water, smiling over the rim. “Is this resurrecting your high school crush?”
