Page 52 of Where We Belong

Chapter 18

Lexie

I’mwokenupbya sharp sound.

I jump up in bed, hair matted to my cheek and heart hammering out of my chest as I wait to hear whatever startled me up again.

And there it is. Another rap at the door.

I unplug my phone from the wall and see it’s barely 6:30 a.m. I don’t think my mother has ever been awake at that hour, so she couldn’t have invited someone over this early in the morning.

The house remains quiet, as if no one has heard it yet. Kyle would probably have thrown a fit if the sound had ruptured his precious sleep. Not wanting to deal with that kind of crisis anytime soon, I jump from bed, throw a hoodie on to cover my tank top and sleeping shorts, then rush to the door.

Another knock.

“Yes, I’m coming,” I whisper-shout, as if the person on the other side of the door could hear me. The house is still dark, only illuminated by the sliver of sun that has started to rise, creating a honey-colored glow over the television and leatherette sofa.

When I reach the door, I pause. I haven’t lived here for a while. What if the person on the other side isn’t here for friendly reasons? I don’t think my mother has gotten into anything shady, but what about Kyle? Or Jim?

I rub at my eyes with the meat of my palms. Better me than Josie, I guess.

Steeling myself for the worst, I open the door.

And freeze.

It takes me a long moment to process what I’m seeing, as if I need to go through all the details to make up the whole. The muddy black sneakers. The tall build and wide shoulders. The dark five o’clock shadow on the strong jaw. The most dazzling green eyes.

“Hey,” Finn says with a corner smile, as if we’ve just crossed paths outside of my cabin while I was leaving for work and he was coming in.

I blink. I’m probably still dreaming. I must be, because why would Finn Olsen be standing here, in front of my childhood home, on the other side of the country, smiling like he was supposed to be here all along?

“Is this your crabby way of saying hello?” Finn asks, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

“I…” I rub at my face once more, thinking maybe the image will change if I wake myself enough. It doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll try to act as if this is not the shittiest welcome I’ve ever received.”

“Finn,” I say. I can’t even think of proper words. This can’t be happening.

His smile dims as he says, “I didn’t like the thought of you having a rough time here, and I figured you could use a friendly face around.”

Instantaneously, my eyes fill with water. I’m not a big crier. I learned from a young age that showing my pain wouldn’t get me anywhere. If I landed badly on my ankle after a dismount and cried, I’d still be hurting. The only thing different would be the way my coaches looked at me. If I cried at my mother because Kyle had stolen my coaching money from under my mattress, it still wouldn’t get me my hours back. It would probably only make things worse in the house.

And yet here I am, tearing up because this might be the first time someone has thought of me this way. With so much care.

In a thick voice, I say, “W-what about the farm?” It really doesn’t matter at the moment, but it’s as if my brain needs to focus on the logistics if I don’t want to break down.

“I gave as many hours as I could over the week, and I asked Aaron and Lil to do me a favor and cover for me today and tomorrow. I’ll be back after that.”

I squeeze my hands tight at my sides, trying but failing to control myself.

“You’re really here?”

His grin is butter-soft. “I’m really here.”

I don’t know what takes over me, but one second I’m standing in front of him, his body towering over me, and the next I’m in his arms, my fingertips clinging at his gray T-shirt, so tightly I think for a moment I might tear it.

His own arms slowly come down over me, then wrap me up with a gentleness I think might cause me to tear up again. He holds me as if I’m breakable, and yet it’s probably the most comforting touch I’ve ever felt. I’m surrounded by the smell of moss and clean detergent, by the softness of his shirt and the warmth of his body around mine. For a moment, it’s enough to make me forget where we are. We’re alone in the world. In the entire universe.

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