Page 38 of Hearts Adrift
“Is it weird? That I’m finding this kinda fun?” I look at him. “Maybe it’s because I’m doing it with you. You’re the guy who brings the fun.”
“That so? I’m your entertainment?”
“Is that weird?”
“I feel more like your chauffer at the moment,” he says back. “Looking for a place to hide you … away from the place you were already hiding.”
“This is actually pretty tame compared to how my life is usually like.”
He comes to a stop at a red light and glances at me. “What’s your life usually like?”
“Chaos. Except … it’s also numb. A numb chaos. I’m always where I’m supposed to be. Every minute of my day is scheduled, down to when I take a shit. Gym. Eating. My one day off every couple of months, which is usually filled with something that spills over from some other obligation, so I’m never really off. This is … the longest stretch of nothing I’ve had in years.” The thought makes me laugh. “I feel like a kid on summer vacation, free from school, with a whole summer ahead of me …”
“More like a kid racing around town escaping a set of pursuing helicopter parents,” he mutters back.
“Light’s green.”
He resumes driving. “I just thought of a place we could go. Cottonwood Cove. No one’s ever there. Just one naked hot guy who lives in a shack near the water.”
“Did you just say … ‘naked hot guy’ …?”
“A nudist, maybe? No one knows or asks. He keeps to himself. Every time I go, he’s not there, and even if he was, there’s a high chance he’s like me and hasn’t watched any of your movies.”
“That’s … a relief … I think?”
“We’re headed in the right direction already.”
I gaze at him, seeing the determination set in his eyes.
It’s unexpected, yet totally unsurprising to watch Finn become my warrior, insistent on finding me somewhere to lay low, fighting for my safety. And considering we’re not even sure whether there’s a threat to begin with at all. He’s got so many better, more important things to do with his day, and instead, he’s driving me around town seeking a place for me to hide from a ghost I might’ve invented.
I’ve never known anyone like Finn before. As genuine as Finn. As committed and moral as him.
Not even before the fame happened.
The road grows bumpy as he takes a dirt path that I, for a hot second, am about to question him taking. He seems to know exactly where he’s going like he’s driven here before as we cut between tall trees, strange rock formations, and patches of pebbly sand. I don’t even see the road anymore as we start rolling downhill to a spread of dead grass and dirt, where he finally comes to a stop in the fractured shade of trees.
“Should be safe,” he mutters, killing the engine.
We get out of the car. My feet land on the crunchy dirt. I peel my jacket off and toss it back in the car, then notice him giving me a once-over, likely checking me out in my skimpy tank top I had on underneath. Slept in it last night and didn’t have a chance to change before darting out the back door. I smirk to myself, enjoying the attention, as I go on ahead of him. I imagine his eyes dropping to my ass in these scanty thin-material gym shorts I’m sporting. I will be first to admit, they hide nothing, not even the crack of my squat-happy ass.
The sound of the hissing waves reaches me before the view does. Through the trees sandwiched by two cliffs, I spot a moody, secluded beach. It’s unkempt and messy in a beautiful, natural way, unlike all the typical tourist beaches that are groomed and combed to artificial perfection. The sharp, fishy aroma of seawater is much thicker here. I feel both like I’m in heaven or could get my toes bitten off by a mean crab hopping out of the brush to defend its territory. This is real beach-meets-wilderness territory.
“I continue to be impressed,” I say as we stroll side-by-side down the indistinct sandy path toward the water. “This beach town keeps a lot of secrets.”
“Too bad we can’t explore more freely,” he points out,disappointed.
“We’re exploring freely enough, aren’t we?” I pick a shell up off the ground, toss it in my hand. “I’m getting the sense I’m seeing a lot more than your typical guest.”
“But you haven’t seen the restaurants. Or the museum. Art exhibit. Sugarberry Beach where the locals hang out.”
“That beach soundsedible.” I pick up another shell and turn it over in my palm.
“If there ever comes a time when you happen tonotbe chased around by the world, I’d love to show you so much more. There’s a reason people come here to get away.”
I peer at him. “Is one of those reasons you?”
He meets my eyes, then quickly chuckles away my question, looking off.
