Page 61 of Seas the Dating Coach

After several, long seconds, Finn lifts his head. His eyes bounce between mine before he clears his throat, shifting until I release him.

“Sorry. Um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “What did you want to talk about?”

I like you. I want to be with you.

But it doesn’t seem like a good time for those words now.

I wave a hand. “It was something about the fundraiser. It can wait.”

Finn simply nods, blinking slowly. He’s probably feeling as wrung out as I do after one of my epic sobfests. I have the sneaking suspicion that, as hard as public speaking is for me, honesty is challenging for Finn. The fact that he just trusted me with one of his biggest secrets gives me hope for the future, for when I tell him about the adjustments I’ve made to my four-part plan.

“Do you want me to walk you home? I hear there are ruffians running the streets.”

A puff of a laugh leaves his lips. “Sure.”

After snatching up my belongings, we amble down Sand Bend Road in companionable silence. I can tell by the way he rubs his temples that Finn is exhausted. My mind whirls with an exciting idea for my shiny, new plan. It’s going to put me out of my comfort zone again, but I think it’ll be worth it. I think Finn needs to see thathe’s worththe extra effort.

I leave Finn on his doorstep, keeping a respectable distance. “Here you go. Door delivery with absolutely zero muggings.”

“Thanks.” The corner of his mouth lifts, though his eyes betray his fatigue.

I bite my lip to hide my secret smile. “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

twenty-six

Vivian

Iswallow down the surge of unease clawing up my throat the next evening and focus on wrapping my hands like Geneva demonstrated. She was surprisingly nice when I stumbled into the boxing gym ten minutes ago, inquiring about trying a class. Now, I’m resisting nervously tugging on the oversized shirt eclipsing my gray bike shorts as I wait for Finn.

The only thing keeping my lunch down is the anticipation of the look on his face when he sees me. I hum one of Raven Sacaria’s power ballads as I secure the second wrap around my wrist. Geneva had been very particular about proper wrist support.

“What are you doing here?”

A smile splits my face before I even look up.

And then I’m rewarded for the mental effort of showing up tonight—I seriously repeatedYou got thisover a hundred timestoday. Finn is wearing the same black exercise shorts and snug dark-gray t-shirt he’d worn that first time I went to his house, topped with a backward baseball cap. He looks like a model for a fitness company, but that’s to be expected.My rewardis when Finn palms his neck, and the action raises his sleeve an inch. I spot the slightest edge of ink on the underside of his biceps—undeniably a bookstack tattoo.

My chin lifts in a determined tilt. “I’m going to ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with later, so I’m offering my own discomfort first. I hate all non-swimming-related exercises, but I’m willing to try for you. I’m hoping that, later, you’ll be willing to try for me.”

Finn looks like I sucker punched him in the gut but, weirdly, in a good way.

“Vivian.” My name is a breathy whisper, low and intimate, as his fingers curl air.

Goosebumps erupt on my forearms even though the gym’s garage doors are open to the warm summer night.

“We’re not chit-chatting tonight,” Geneva calls out, turning on metal music so loud it vibrates down my spine. “Partner up. Grab a bag. Get going.”

I bite the edge of one boxing glove, frantically trying to slide my fingers into the other.

“Do you want help putting on your gloves?” Finn asks, reaching for the one dangling from my mouth.

“New Guy, I’m in no mood,” Geneva snaps, rounding on us. She gives me an efficient once-over, all the gentleness she showed me earlier terrifyingly absent. “Though I suppose you’re the new one now.”

“I guess.” My fingertips tremble as I try to shove them into the proffered glove.

Geneva’s stern expression infinitesimally softens before she crosses her arms. “What’s your preference? Newb. Newbie. Or Rookie.”

The way Finn’s brows shoot up as he fastens my second glove, I’m guessing name selection is not often extended to new attendees.

---