Page 51 of Hearts Adrift
He’s wearing an oversized Mickey Mouse shirt that belongs to Brooke. It’s low-key the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Theo would never be caught dead in it.
I should really stop comparing everyone to Theo. “Too close,” I admit. “We really should be more careful in the evenings. We lost track of time.”
“I always lose track of time around you,” he says with the sweetest look that’ll stick with me the rest of the night.
I smile—as I fight to reel in the devil on my shoulder begging River to touch me, to tenderly brush bangs off my forehead, to grab hold of me and make out with me against the wall, hands grappling all over the place.
To just give me one goddamned excuse to lose myself.
“Goodnight,” I say instead, then close the door.
Until his foot stops it. “We really don’t have to sneak around your family, y’know. I don’t think they’ll freak out as bad as you think.”
“River …”
“I never wanted to turn you and Brooke into liars.”
“We’re all liars,” I mutter back at him. “All of us, just actors playing roles every day of our lives.”
“So youdolisten to my mindless morning ramblings.”
“No,” I mutter, fighting off a smile and looking away.
He pokes me. “You’re a bad actor.”
I look up. “That so?”
“Absolute worst, hands down.”
His sweet, amused eyes dazzle in the partial warm light spilling over them from my room. “I guess I am,” I agree, for a moment letting the professionalism mask slip, as my voice turns softer. “Can’t possibly compare to a … talented and handsome actor like you.”
“The mosttalentedest,” he agrees cheekily. Then his eyebrows lift. “Did you just call me handsome?”
I roll my eyes, still fighting off my smile. “Keep your voice down.”
“And here you are, calling mehandsomeandtalented, and you still haven’t even seen any of my movies.”
“Maybe it’s for the best.” I chuckle. “I’m afraid to see how convincing you are at becoming someone else.”
I’m not sure what I meant by that.
I feel weird the moment I say it.
“Is … Is that what you think I’m being?” he asks softly as his eyes dance over my face. “Someone else?”
I fidget. “It’s getting late.”
“Finn … when I’m around you, I just may be more like myself than I am around anyone else—my brother Mason included, who I haven’t spoken to in over a year. I swear, if you could live a minute in my shoes, just aminute, you’d know how often I’ve gotta act like someone else … even in my day-to-day life, how often I’ve gotta cover up how I feel … my pain. But with you?” He shrugs. “I can be me. Messy. Human. What you’re getting right now, Finn, this version of me who’s all over the place, this is the real me.”
I find my levity from before traded for something far more sincere when I ask, “And how would I know that?”
He brings his face close to mine, as if sticking it right throughthe invisible wall of professionalism, close enough to kiss. I don’t back away. “All you have to do … is look in someone’s eyes to know. Acting 101. The truth isalwaysin the eyes.”
I do as I’m told: I peer right into his.
Like a diver into the deep end. From a place up high, plunging headfirst and splitting open River’s waters with my fingers, then my face, then my body, until my entire being is submerged in his depths.
This can’t be a fluke—the way my insides flutter the longer I search his eyes. I have to believe, in my lifetime of fake smiles all day at the Fair, all of the fleeting human connections I’ve known, that this is something real.
