Page 23 of Hearts Adrift
“But the full story is out there!” he insists, wiggling his phone. “That’s what I’m saying! There’s video evidence.”
I realize I’m not gonna get what I need here. Cooper has his face buried in his boyfriend’s butt and I may as well be sitting at home suffering alone. “Sorry that I’m not good company, Chase. Tell Cooper—again—that I stopped by.”
“Sorry for going on and on like this,” he sighs. “Dunno how I became so invested in the first place. Been a minute since I’ve even seen a movie starring River Wolfe.”
I slide off the stool—only to come to a dead stop, my breath hitching at the name.
I turn back. “River … who?”
Chapter 7 - River
“Your PR people are a ton of fucking jokes.”
I sigh at Anya’s words, pacing the living room. “I was told to stay put, that my team would handle everything, but then I remember how they tried turning me into a TikTok boy last year … Do I look like a good dancer to you?”
“All they need to do is turn you into a decent human being, and they’re failing at that. Riv, silence is hurting you more. People are demanding to know why charges haven’t been brought against you. By the way:they still can be.”
“They’d speculate why if they had anybrains.”
“You’ve circled that couch a hundred times.”
“Getting my cardio in.”
“Riv …”
I come to a stop at the back of the couch and grip it, posture breaking, as I hang my head. “I’m doing what they told me to do, Anya. My hands are tied. I’m so …tired.”
She sighs from her spot on the coffee table where I’ve propped up my phone, her face filling up the screen. Her face is covered in special green goo her girlfriend told her to use—“takes ten years off!” she insisted.
Anya’s voice goes soft. “This River I’m seeing is a far cry from the cocky little shit I was talking to a few days ago. Is reality finally setting in?”
“Try existential dread.”
“Have you spoken to your sponsor? Do you need to?”
“No drink in sight. Not tempted. Not even a tiny bit.”
“Are you convincing me or yourself?”
“I just threw out a bottle of sparkling wine they put in my welcome basket without even opening it. Set it out on the back porch where it was … was swiftly …”
Finn’s face drifts into view in my mind.
His soft, sweet eyes on that back porch when he found the bottle I left out. How he looked like a guardian angel protecting me from it. Then following me down to the rocky shoreline, where his eyes became a shiny cocktail of excitement, fear, and concern for my mental wellbeing.
He had a right to be concerned. I’ve been nothing but unhinged here, letting my real life spin away from me like confetti in the wind while I pretend to be someone else in this town. Someone new. Someone who’s not me.
Then I see his face again, from just earlier today.
At the Fair.
I did one of the most reckless things yet and snuck out of the bungalow in my jacket, shades, and hat, making use of the free pass Welcome Basket Brooke left me. But let’s face it: I had zero interest in cinnamon sugar pretzels or winning purple plush octopi out of a claw machine. I had to see Finn. The days were rolling on by and I was losing my fucking mind, suffocating within these walls. And when I finally found him, I panicked. What was I doing? Stalking him? What did I plan to do when I found him? Say hi? Ask him about the weather? Was I totally fucking nuts?
Then he looked my way.
And I bolted.
Made my way straight back to the bungalow.
