Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Finn had always texted me periodically with pictures and descriptions of the progress of his trees and flowers, even if we hadn’t talked about much personal stuff in the past few years.
“My country boy oasis, as you called it.”
“Forgot I nicknamed it that.”
“I call it that all the time now,” he said, lying back on the blanket. I took the spot next to him.
I could feel the cool, grassy ground under my back, below the padding of the blanket. The red-orange glow from the fire in the pit was small, but provided enough ambient warmth that made the area feel cozy instead of chilly.
I took a few deep, slow breaths, looking at the night sky.
“This feels good,” I said.
“And you’re not just taking pity on me because of my nightmare?”
I turned to face him on the blanket, propping myself up on one arm. “I feel so sorry for poor, scared little Finn,” I said sarcastically. “No. Of course not. I love it out here. My problem with Bestens was never about the natural landscape.”
The low, quiet sound of faraway frogs and crickets came through the air. It really was like a little oasis—the trees and shrubs lining his property made it seem like his backyard was his own private place, despite the fact that he was on a normal residential street. Finn was quiet for a minute, looking up.
“Bet you didn’t have nights like this out in Los Angeles,” he murmured, seeming to purposely lay on the Southern accent in that moment.
“I definitely didn’t,” I said, being completely honest.
“I was just trying to get you all riled up,” he said, turning to look at me. “I know you probably had way more fun out there. On a night like this you probably would have been at a fancy art gallery afterparty around now, wouldn’t you? Or getting your dick sucked by some rich male model in his hot tub?”
“I did go to a lot of art events,” I said, trying to ignore the way Finn’s voice sounded when he said dick sucked. “I can’t believe how far away that life already feels.”
“Do you miss it?”
I hummed. “Yes and no. Those events felt so important to me. Every time I went to an art gallery opening, I’d stand there sipping wine looking at the front doors the whole time.”
“Why?”
I paused for a moment. “This is going to sound pathetic.”
He grinned. “Juicy details. Tell me.”
“And you can’t make fun of me.”
“Now that I can’t promise you,” Finn said, his eyes lighting up.
I bit back a smile. “Fair enough. That’s never off the table, to be honest.”
Finn stretched out on the blanket. He really was like a human Golden Retriever sometimes—big and noble and in good spirits, almost all of the time.
“So spit it out,” he said. “How’d you act pathetic in LA?”
“Well, at those parties, the whole time, I would just be waiting to see if I spotted any celebrities,” I admitted. “It feels so stupid to say it. But every now and then, they show up, and when I first got to LA it made me feel very important to be in the same room as any major or minor celebrity.”
“I still remember when you texted me saying you were in the same room as that actress from Rosy House Lane.”
I puffed out a laugh. “Don’t make me cringe. I never told you, but I tried to go up to her and strike up a conversation.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I tried to ask what perfume she was wearing, and she answered nicely,” I said. “But then I invited her to the gallery where I worked, and I think she may have mistaken me for trying to hit on her. I wasn’t acting gay enough.”
“Oh, shut up. You were probably more charming than you think,” Finn said. “You’re always charming.”
I gave Finn a little shove, shifting my position on the blanket. “It’s weird to think about.”
He hummed. “I thought you’d be missing LA every second of being here.”
How could I even describe how I felt about being back here?
The honest answer was that I was starting to realize that it was both the worst thing and the best thing that could have happened to me.
I would always have complicated feelings about Tennessee, but I’d slowly realized LA wasn’t the place for me, either.
I did feel more secure in myself now than I ever did in high school.
But I couldn’t sit here and tell Finn I enjoyed it here, either.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I thought it was the end of my life when I lost my gallery job. One thing I learned was that I cared about the actual art more than the other people in the gallery world, though.”
“People who go to art galleries don’t care about the art?” Finn asked.