Page 32 of End Game
“Yeah. He’s nice. But his people skills aren’t what I’m worried about.”
“Finn, seriously, stop it.”
“I work with these guys. I’m Branch’s friend. I see things you don’t see, know things you don’t know. I’m sick and tired of watching you hook up with guys like this and then get your heart broken.”
“My heart is not broken, thank you very much,” I glower, placing my hands on my hips. “My heart was a little tender for a minute because that’s a normal thing in a break up with anyone except heartless assholes that just jump from one bed to another.”
He shoots me a warning, but I ignore it. “I love you, Finn. I do. And I appreciate your looking out for me. I have no plans to get tied up with Branch in any way. I’m not an idiot, okay?”
He pulls me into a quick hug and smiles. “Good. That makes me feel better.”
“What does?” Branch asks, walking back in the room.
“Nothing. See you two later.” Finn tosses me a final look before nodding to Branch as he walks out. The front door opens and closes, and immediately, the air shifts and pulls.
Branch sits back down at the table, having changed into a pair of soft, faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt. “So, what’s the plan tonight?”
“Don’t you have contracts?” I ask, sitting down and pulling the newspaper up in front of me.
“No. I just told him that so he would leave. I got them done days ago, before I ever came up here.” He flicks the paper, making it pop. “They still have printed papers up here?”
“Yes. Isn’t it sweet? A man brings it to the end of the driveway every afternoon. Finn must’ve brought it up.”
I scan the front page, the headlines all centering around the Linton County Water Festival. Pictures of carnival rides, horseshoes, food trucks, and bands performing on the bed of a semi-truck span the entire first three pages.
Suddenly, I get an idea.
Setting the paper down, I look at Branch. “When was the last time you went to a carnival?”
“A what?”
“You know, with rides and elephant ears and lemon shake-ups?”
“High school?” he guesses. “Maybe? Maybe middle school. I don’t know. Why?”
I scoot my chair back and grin. “Get ready. We’re going to the Linton County Water Festival.”
“We are not.”
“Yes, we are,” I giggle.
“Why?” he groans. “Those things are for kids, not adults.”
“Okay,” I tease. “When did you become an adult?”
He dips his chin and looks at me through his lashes. “Really, Sunshine?”
“Oh, come on. Stop being difficult,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. “Go get a hat and whatever else you need and let’s go.”
He tries to have a standoff with me, but it doesn’t last long. Before I’m even close to giving up, he stomps up the stairs. “God, you’re infuriating.”
“Just get your stuff and get back down here and no one will get hurt.”
Branch
“You have that all over your face.” I brush a spattering of cinnamon and sugar off her chin. “If we weren’t in public, I’d just lick this off you.”
“Good thing we’re in public then,” she says, bringing the plate to her lips. She tears off a huge piece of cooked dough and shoves it into her mouth. “You’re good, but not this good.”
