“Hey, Marie,” I say, surprised when she leans forward to give me a hug. I return it, although it feels unnatural with Finley beside me.
“How have you been?” she asks, pushing her long hair over her shoulder. “It’s been so long.”
It’s been seven months. Marie was one of the women I went out with a few times, although I can’t remember what all we did. I do remember that she was fun and easy to talk to. I thought maybe there could be something there. I was going to ask her out again.
But then Gus and Finley broke up, and for the first time in two years, I thought I might have a chance. I was planning to bring her to Wren and Holden’s wedding, introduce her to the people important to me, but instead, I went alone and left with Finley. I slept in her bed, woke up beside her in the morning. I had my hopes up so high, only for things to go back to normal the next day.
I thought about calling Marie again after that, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Because I didn’t regret not asking her out again, if I was being honest with myself. As long as she was in the picture, no one else had a chance. Which is exactly why I’ve been considering this move to Maine.
“I’ve been good,” I respond. “What about you?”
Marie smiles, and it brightens her entire face, making her green eyes stand out even more against the tan of her skin. Her smile was what drew me to her in the first place. “Good, good. I switched to day shifts at the hospital, which has been a really good change. And I got a puppy—a goldendoodle.” She pullsher phone from the back pocket of her tiny high-waisted denim shorts and shows me her screensaver, a picture of a little dog that looks more like a teddy bear.
I grin at it, and she says, “Adorable, right? His name is Bear.”
“Fits perfectly,” I reply.
“Oh my gosh,” she says. “I’m being so rude talking about myself so much when I haven’t even let you introduce your friend.” Her attention turns to Finley, who looks decidedly less sunny than she did a moment ago.
She reaches out her hand to Marie. “I’m Finley, Grey’sgirlfriend.”
I don’t miss the emphasis she puts on the word, and neither does Marie. Her eyes go wide, along with her smile. Finley’s expression darkens at the sight of it, and I stare at her, confused.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Finley,” Marie says, sounding genuine. I hope she’s happy, that she’s found someone who can love her the way I couldn’t, not when my heart was already taken. “I remember Grey talking about you a lot.”
Finley’s eyes jump from Marie to me, and I can feel heat creeping up my cheeks. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Marie says. “You’re his best friend’s sister, right? Or have I mixed things up?”
“Right,” Finley responds, nodding, and for some reason, I think I hear a hint of disappointment in her voice. “The best friend’s sister.”
“And now the girlfriend.” Marie says this with a kind of happiness I don’t deserve after how abruptly I ended things.
Finley just smiles, dips her chin in a nod. To anyone else, it would look real, but I can tell it’s fake, and I want to know why.
“Next,” the ticket ride operator says, ushering Marie forward. She spins around, rejoins her group. They split up into three buckets, two to a seat, and then it’s our turn.
We climb in side by side, pressed up against each other from shoulder to thigh. I never really notice our size difference until we’re close like this. She isn’t petite by any means. She’s tall and lean, but beside me, she feels small. There’s hardly enough room in the bucket, so I let go of the lap bar and put one arm behind her, resting it on the back of the seat.
Finley is stiff, looking forward, and I almost draw my arm back, thinking I’m making her uncomfortable, but that seems too obvious.
I’m not like this with other women. I don’t get nervous or question my actions. Things are easier with everyone else, but with her, they’re better.
“Fin?” I ask, and she finally looks in my direction. Her eyes are shuttered, and I can’t read the expression on her face. “Are you okay?”
She nods as we begin our ascent to the top of the wheel. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” I say. This is another difference between my time with her and my time with other women. With her, I never feel like I have to hold back. It’s probably what causes most of our arguments, but I like that I feel free to be myself with her.
“Well, I am,” she replies, but I watch her hands tighten on the lap bar. “Marie seemed nice. When did you date?”
I stare at her for a long moment, trying to puzzle out her body language. “How do you know we dated?”
She gives me a pointed look, and I can’t help it, I laugh. This, at least, seems to make some of the tension ease from her body. She leans back into my arm, but she doesn’t take her eyes off mine.
“Seven months ago,” I say, and she seems to search my face for something.
When the Ferris wheel stops and we’re at the top, able to look out over the entire fairgrounds, our gazes stay fixed on each other. She asks, “Was it her? The one woman you’ve ever wanted in Fontana Ridge?”
