Page 8 of Riptide

“Let’s skip the small talk and get straight to the fun.”

He’s holding a fish in his profile picture. Why do they always hold fish?

Left.

I chuckle, adjusting my grip on my phone. This is exactly what I remember, mediocrity, desperation and, apparently, an alarming number of men posing next to sedated tigers or fish. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. But it’s also kinda fun…exhilarating.

I swipe again… And pause.

Finn, 20

“Not looking for anything serious. Just passing time.”

His profile picture is, well… He’s ridiculously good-looking, in that careless,I-don’t-even-have-to-try kind of way. Sun-bleached shaggy blond hair, sharp cheekbones, easy smirk, piercing blue eyes, sun-kissed skin. His second photo is him on a surfboard floating on the water, grinning at the camera, looking happy.

I swipe to the third picture. He’s standing on a beach, shirtless, abs on display like he was sculpted by the gods. Flicking to his age again, I see he’s younger than me by nine years, the same age as most of my students at work. I shouldn’t be looking.

But I don’t swipe left.

His bio is short, straight to the point. No emojis. No fake deep quotes. No obvious red flags, unless you count the fact that he looks like he could ruin my life if I’m not careful.

I hover over the screen, knowing I should keep scrolling, but I don’t, I’m all about taking a risk today.

So, I swipe right.

Chapter five

Finn

AfterleavingHudsonandDaphne’s, I drove back to Mom and Dad’s house, where dinner was waiting on the table, and that’s a win.

I lean back in my chair, plate now cleared. “How’s the season looking?” I ask my dad.

He’s been a football coach all my life, and he loves his job at CLU. “Defense needs work. Couple of the freshman think they’re invincible, but we’re winning, so I can’t complain that much.”

“So, same as every year, then?”

He grins. “Pretty much.”

Mom gives him a look as she collects our plates. “You love those kids.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love pushing my buttons.”

I snort. “Especially that linebacker of yours.”

Dad guffaws. “Hudson’s one of my only guys who keeps them in line on the field. He’s gonna go far. Plus, he’s good to Daphne and Rosie.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised by how honest that sounds from my dad’s mouth. It’s no secret that he was less than thrilled with Hudson when he found out about Daphne and the baby, but I guess it’s all water under the bridge now.

Stretching until my back cracks, I yawn loudly. “God.”

Mom glances over as she clears up our plates. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Rosie had opinions today. Loud ones.”

Dad snorts from the other side of the kitchen. “Takes after her uncle.”

“Or her grandad,” I say, standing and passing Mom on my way to grab a glass of water. “Need a hand?”

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