Page 9 of The Nicest Thing
"Thanks, baby brother.You're the best."
"And you're the worst," I said with a laugh then looked back."Hey, Rose."
"Yeah?" she said.
"To answer your question, I absolutely think people would buy it," I said."We'd have fun, stay friends, and sell a lot of books.I'd make sure of it.See you later."
"Bye, Finn," she said.
As I was walking out to my car, her words replayed on a constant loop in my ears.
Finn, I love you.
Even though there was a 'but' that followed, my mind was drinking up those words like oxygen.
She'd said it before—as my friend—so had I.A million times.But this time, something in my gut clenched, and I was filled with this deep sense of knowing.
This was it, the perfect opportunity to show Rose how I felt, prove to her how good we could be together.If only she'd say yes.
CHAPTER 2: Rose
"Who's Finn?"
"What?"Startled, I looked up and into the eyes of Ana, one of my beloved-yet-totally-nosy cousins.I was nosy too, so I didn't mind.It came with the territory of being a writer."Where did you hear that name?"
Ana pointed to my laptop screen."You typed it like a million times—even though you're supposed to be answering company emails."
She was right.
Finn took up half my screen.
"Plus, you kept mumbling 'I should've said yes to Finn. Why didn't I say yes to Finn?'"
"I did?"
"Yeah."
"Actually, I answered all the emails," I said with a sniff."I'm on break."
I was on desk duty at my family's tattoo parlor,Wild Rose Ink.My grandfather had opened the business years ago and named it after my grandmother, one of the coolest women of all time and my namesake.I wasn't as wild as Grandma Rose, but I was thankful to be named after one of my favorite people.Speaking of which…
Thoughts of Finn must've spilled out of my mind and into my fingertips.
His name was everywhere.
Made sense.
I'd spent a sleepless night thinking—and re-thinking his offer.
And now he was taking over my writing time.
"Is he the hero in your new WIP?" Ana asked.
"Ah no," I said with a smile.Ana was 16 and the only person in my family—well, besides Grandma Rose—who ever asked about my writing.I loved her a little more for that."Finn's my best friend."
"Real or fictional?"
"Real."
