Page 95 of The Spark Between Us

Chapter Thirty-Five

Sarah

There weren’tenough mojitos in the world to erase the pain I felt every waking hour since I’d gotten back to Berkeley.

I know. Because I tried.

Fortunately for my health and my sanity, Finn had redirected me away from the rum bottle and dragged my sorry self out onto the San Francisco Bay, where we currently sat in a kayak for two.

He was doing most of the paddling.

I was dead weight and an occasional hindrance whose only function seemed to be dousing him with water when I remembered to use my paddle.

After the third time I splashed him, he stopped paddling and turned around to glare at me. “Do you mind? You’re soaking me every time you do that.”

“Sorry. I’m not focused,” I said, slumping against the back rest that I hadn’t noticed for the half hour we’d been out on the water. “Ooh, that’s comfortable.” When we’d rented the kayak, Finn insisted on paying extra for the backrests, which were sort of like our life vests, only shaped like a small chair that fit into each of our kayak seats.

I’d been leaning forward over my paddle the entire time, lost in my head and not enjoying a single moment of our time on the still waters that were the whole reason he’d forced me up at seven in the morning.

That, and the fact that I hadn’t been sleeping since I moved back to Berkeley. Finn was the master of persuasion, so what was the point of arguing?

“I know you’re not. Do you even know what day it is? Or where you are?” He was smiling at me, but I saw the concern in his eyes.

I let out a long exhale and finally took in the scenery around me. “I’m on the bay in a kayak at the ass crack of dawn, thanks to someone who’s even more of an irritating morning person than I am.” I glared at him.

He deserved worse for dragging me out here and trying to force me to enjoy myself. There was still far too much wallowing to do before I could be expected to embrace things like pretty views of the Marin headlands.

“And you’re enjoying yourself. You forgot that part,” he chuckled, assessing me from beneath the brim of a vintage San Francisco Giants baseball cap as he paddled gently.

“I like your hat,” I told him.

“What?”

“The retro thing. It’s cool.”

His hand went to the brim. “Oh. Thanks. I can tell you where to get one. Isn’t retail therapy good after a breakup?”

“It isn’t a breakup. We were never in a relationship.” I figured if I said it enough times, it would finally sink in. Braden and I were never a couple. We were a sex marathon that was destined to run its course.

Finn slid his paddle into the kayak and turned around in his seat, so we were face to face. “Not what I saw. Not what he told me.”

I vaguely recalled that Braden and Finn had slipped away the night my family came to dinner, but things went sideways right after that, so we hadn’t talked about their conversation. What did it matter? He’d stuck to our rules—rules I laid out—and it wasn’t his fault I’d fallen for him anyway.

Doing my best to block the memory of him—something that required a daily battle with my heart—I focused on a layer of moss that seemed to be growing on the bottom of the kayak. “D’you think they ever clean these things?” I asked, scraping at the moss with my paddle. It didn’t budge.

“I try not to go there. I figure the kayaks spend their days in water, so how dirty could they be? There’s probably a non-zero probability it’s toxic.”

“God, you’re such a nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.” We were still twelve.

Finn looked out over the water and I followed his gaze. For the first time, I took in the scenery around us. We’d paddled pretty far from the Berkeley marina and our orange kayak bobbed on the surface of the bay near Angel Island, where I could see a few mountain bikers on the rutted trails.

It was a gorgeous morning for anyone who could see past the cloud of doom hanging over her head. In the distance, a few snowy white seagulls sat on the surface of the water, riding the gentle current beneath them and lazily waiting for something worthy of breakfast.

The spires of both the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate soared into the sky above the bay, framing San Francisco’s peninsula of land with twin feats of engineering. Normally, sitting out here would bring me peace and a sense of well-being. Today, it just made me feel depressed. The world around me was shimmering and gorgeous, and I couldn’t see past my own mood.

Finn nudged me with his paddle. “You know he’s crazy about you, right? He didn’t want you to leave.”

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