Page 10 of Seas the Dating Coach

I can almost feel Finn’s argument that he’s a stranger, but he doesn’t voice it.

“What if we came up with a series of conversation starters for you to use when you feel tongue-tied?”

I huff. “Give me some credit. You don’t think I haven’t watched public-speaking videos or read blog posts on overcoming extreme shyness? Knowing that I should ask Atticus what his ideal vacation is, or if he had a childhood pet, or about his favorite band doesn’t mean that those words will fall readily from my lips.”

When I glance at Finn, a bemused expression brightens his features.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What is it?” I put more grit into the question, which only deepens his smile.

“I like your word choices. Not many people would say ‘fall readily from my lips.’”

“Oh.” I can feel my cheeks flaming. I often mimic the vocabulary and speech patterns found in my favorite Regency romances, but usually, the only person who hears me saying “To be sure” instead of “You’re right” is my sister.

Turning to face the adjoined high-ceilinged living room, I plop into an upholstered accent chair. The well-loved piece faces the long bank of windows, and the water beyond it allows me to get my bearings.

“Any idea of what I should do instead?” I hazard a glance toward the kitchen, noting that Finn has rounded the counter, protein-drink abandoned.

He rubs his scruff again as he steps toward the window. My shoulders settle into the chair while Finn surveys his backyard, thinking. The silence between us isn’t stilted like it often ends up being when I converse with other locals, when an uncomfortable pause will drop like a stone, almost as if they’re afraid to continue talking, before they make a well-meaning excuse to let me out of the conversation.

When he finally turns, the gleam in Finn’s eyes makes my hands grip the wooden armrests. I instinctively know I’m not going to like his next suggestion.

“I think what you need is a high frequency of low-value interactions.”

My brows pinch. “What does that even mean?”

“It means, dear Vivian”—my blood pressure spikes when his gaze rakes my appearance in an assessing way—“that we’re going out.”

“Out?” The squeaky quality of my voice is embarrassing, but I’m too shaken to care. “But you have somewhere to be. You said you only had an hour.”

I feel very much the little lamb to his wolf with the way Finn prowls toward me, but I can’t seem to convince my legs to lift me from the chair.

“I don’t mind changing plans.” Amusement colors his voice. “I think what you really need is a wingman. We’ll drive to Virginia Beach, hit a couple bars.” He lifts a shoulder. “Every guy goes through this, learning how to talk to women, realizing it’s a numbers game. You just need practice.”

Shifting in my chair, I collect the lumpy mermaid pillow I’ve been leaning on and hug it to my chest. It makes a measly shield, but I’ll take anything at this point. “I don’t need to talk to all the men, just Atticus.”

Finn chuckles, whisper-breathingall the menbefore crossing his arms. “Talking to men you don’t care about is how you garner the confidence to eventually talk to your crush.”

My head shakes on its own, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“Yes, gorgeous,” Finn says through a growing smile.

I’m about to dig in. I’ll live in this chair from here on out. It’s now fused to my spine. Finn doesn’t know it, but I can be incredibly stubborn. I’d like to see him try to get meand this chairinto whatever he drives—something flashy, I’m sure. A sports car with an obnoxiously noisy engine that draws attention as he zips by.

I almost snort at the audacity before a realization makes my intestines twist.

Tall, muscular Finn has already lifted me. He could easily pluck me from my protective chair if he really wanted to. I’maverage height at five foot five, but I’m curvy. Due to the blessing of being raised by my Aunt Tammy—a headstrong, body-positive woman—I never grew up hating my curves. Aunt Tammy celebrated my voluptuous frame while simultaneously assuring Brynn that her natural thinness was perfect for her.

“Everyone is given exactly what they need,”Aunt Tammy likes to say.

Of course, we both succumbed to peer pressure as teens. There were a few rocky moments in high school that had me skipping meals and Brynn stuffing her A-cup bralette. And there are still times when I compare myself to “the ideal body type” and feel insecure, but now…one single thought flashes in my mind, insistent and shocking as an alarm siren.

What would it feel like to be tossed over Finn’s sturdy shoulders?

“Vivian.”

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