Pieces (The Breakaway #2)
Page 23
Laughing, Finn squeezed her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Let’s see if we can sink to China, then.” He faced her so their toes were touching, and then stood motionless, staring down. Naomi did the same, giggling as her toes started to disappear. Cool seawater rushed across their feet, washing away sand, but making it even softer so their feet sank deeper.
Smirking, Finn wrapped his arms around her to hold her close.
“Think you’ve caught me?” she teased.
Laughing, he leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. He still smelled like the Java Lounge. Cinnamon rolls. Whipped cream. It made her want to melt into him.
“Thanks, Finn,” she said, looking up as the kiss ended. His hair hung around his face.
“For kissing you?”
“For being patient with me, for loving who I am and not wanting me to change. I think anyone else would push me to go to USC or something.”
He knotted his brow. “Why would they do that?”
“Because art is what I’ve always loved and wanted. It’s my thing, you know? So, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
He lifted his hand and cupped her face. “Nope, you’re supposed to do what feels right for you, even if that’s working in a café washing dishes.”
She smiled. “Even if it meant running off to Italy when everyone else knew it was wrong?”
He nodded. “Everyone else doesn’t know what’s right for you, including me. When I didn’t want you to leave, it was because I was being selfish. I wanted you for myself, but I knew you had to figure things out on your own, even if that meant I never saw you again. So I was a jerk and started dating Carly to get over you. I think the only reason I liked her was because she was an artist, like you. It wasn’t fair to her at all. I used her.”
“But you broke it off and now you’re here.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t drag it out anymore. She wasn’t too upset, but I still feel bad.”
Naomi looked down at her feet, now buried. She could feel Finn’s toes wiggling against hers. “Probably as bad as I feel about Jesse,” she said.
Finn was quiet for a minute as he pulled his feet free of the sand. There was a soft sucking sound, and then a big hole where he had stood. “Want to keep walking?” he asked, nodding to her feet as he held out his hand.
“With you, yes.”
Taking his hand to stabilize herself, she yanked one foot out, and then the other. As Finn led her up the beach, she glanced behind her shoulder. There were two sets of footprints being washed away by the ceaseless waves, the moonlight sparkling as it slid across the smooth surface of the sand.
MICHELLE LIVES and writes in Utah, surrounded by the Rocky Mountains. She loves the seasons, but late summer and early fall are her favorites. She adores chocolate, sushi, and lots of ethnic food, and loves to read and write books in whatever time she can grab between her sword-wielding husband and energetic daughter. She believes a simple life is the best life.
Find Michelle Davidson Argyle on her author site www.michelledavidsonargyle.com and her blog theinnocentflower.blogspot.com.
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About the Author