‘It’s not, I promise.’
‘Are you one of those people who posts really dramatic status updates about how powerful it is to wake up at five-thirty and hustle for fifteen hours a day until you die?’
‘God, no. I post those on Facebook.’ I lift one of my hands from under his to grab a chip, making sure the other one stays interlocked with his. ‘But in all seriousness, I didn’t want to congratulate you on fuckingLinkedIn, of all places. And more importantly, it would’ve shown I’d been stalking you, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted you to know that yet. So this is me saying I’m really happy for you, and I hope this is the start of you finding something you love.’ He rests his chin on his fist, eyeing me across the table. ‘Although, I was kind of banking on you providing me with regular free coffee again upon my return, so if that’s not on the cards anymore then I might just not move back.’
I pull the carton away from him as he reaches for another chip. ‘EvenIdon’t get endless free coffee anymore, so frankly, you’re even further down the priority list.’
‘Fuck,’ he groans. ‘The coffee in America is shit, you know.’
‘Are you sure you just haven’t found a good place yet?’
He purses his lips and nods. ‘Highly likely, but I’m sticking with this opinion until proven otherwise. Some people use cream instead of milk, Ava. Not to be dramatic, but that makes me wanna die.’
‘Not to be dramatic,’ I repeat, sliding the tray back in his direction.
‘It’s gross,’ he says with a chuckle, squeezing my knees between his under the table. When he looks up at me, he cocks his head. ‘We don’t have to decide yet what we’re going to be—if it’s anything at all, no pressure, I’m not expecting anything, I know thisis a lot all at once—and whatever happens, I know we should take it slow, but I just—’
My eyebrows move higher and higher up my forehead with every second of his spiel. ‘So many words to be saying so little.’
‘If you’d let mefinish, you infuriating woman. You’re making me nervous. I want to tell you that, as much as I have, in the past, enjoyed, you know,’ he waves a hand ambiguously, ‘the other parts of our relationship—’
I snort. ‘The other parts?’
‘Ava Monroe, you know what parts I mean.’ He knocks my knee with his in some sort of reproach, but there’s a glint in his eye. ‘I really enjoyed them. Couldn’t rate them more highly, actually. Fuck, now I sound weird. Don’t look at me like that.’ A laugh ripples out of me as he unravels before my eyes. ‘More than all that, I do just really enjoy being your friend. So if that’s how we end up, that’s perfect.’
‘I like being your friend too.’ I don’t know what the future holds for us, but this time, I want to let myself hope. I lean across the table and wait for him to do the same. ‘But if you’ve come all this way to friendzone me, I’msending you back to California.’
He lets out a soft laugh, and the sound of it warms me the way it always has. His hand moves to cradle my jaw just as I weave my fingers into his hair, and I know it’s not just Finn who’s back where he should be. When our lips meet, it feels like coming home and coming undone all at once.
The part of my brain responsible for feeling shame registers that it’s probably a good thing there’s a whole table between us, because apparently I’m someone who does public displays of affection now. But then, Finn’s changed me in lots of ways, bigger and smaller than this.
He smiles into the kiss before pulling back to look at me for a moment, eyes crinkled at the sides. His thumb swipes along my cheekbone and then he dips back in, murmuring against my mouth, ‘I told you you’d like me.’
epilogue
A V A
six months later
‘Welcome home!’ a chorusof voices greets us as we walk through the door, rumpled and sleep-deprived and suitcase-laden, Finn’s hand warm at my back.
Through the chaos—has someone thrown confetti?—I see Max, a head taller than everyone else, and his eyes light up when he sees us. ‘Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much.’
He barges past Josie and Alina, making a beeline for me. And then he bypasses me completely and embraces Finn instead, as if they didn’t see each other only a few weeks ago. They hold each other’s heads in that vaguely homoerotic way sportsmen do during a pre-match pep talk, and I accept the possibility I am now second place to both of them. But honestly? I understand.
Finn pulls me over by the arm and I find myself squeezed between them, and while I’m concerned about my rapidly depleting oxygen supply, affection for these two men spills out of every crevice of my little guarded heart.
‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ I say after a while, my voice muffled. ‘But I do value the use of my lungs.’
‘Don’t worry, I missed you too, Col,’ Max says, squeezing me once more as Finn steps backwards to give me some room. Then he drops his voice and adds, ‘Just not as much as him.’
I finally wrest myself from their hold and head to Josie, whoholds a glass containing some unknown liquid out to me and says, ‘You have to tell useverything.’
I register the fact our vase-stroke-cocktail-carafe is out on the kitchen counter, which strikes me with The Fear. Largely because it’s barely midday, and I slept for approximately eight minutes on the flight.
‘We decided to celebrate your return,’ Josie says. ‘It’s not every day you come home from your first holiday in ten years.’
‘It is, in fact, only every ten years,’ Alina offers.