Page 67 of Hearts Adrift
“I’m always as careful as I need to be in my line of work. But with you, I lost myself.” River grips me by both of my shoulders and gently brings his forehead to mine. “I amsosorry this is happening, and if I have to spend every last cent to my name to fix this for you and your family …”
“Please don’t do that,” cuts in Theo, rushing forward—but not too close, likely in fear of River changing his mind about socking him. “I want to help.”
“You can’t help,” I throw back at Theo.
“If it wasn’t for me clinging to my heartache, driving the guy I was seeing bonkers, your privacy would never—”
“And if I hadn’t clocked a director in the jaw,” River cuts in just as grievingly, letting go of me to face off with Theo—though it looks less in anger and more in sadness, like each is determined to be more at fault than the other, “this nightmare wouldn’t have come to Dreamwood Isle.”
“And neither would you,” says Theo, “and then Finn wouldn’t look so happy!”
“Happy?” I cut in, surprised.
“Happy!” Theo doubles down. “I mean, yeah, the pics were creepy, but didn’t you see your face?”
“My … face?”
“It’s the … the first thing I noticed … your face …” Theo’s eyessparkle with joy, picturing it. “Well, before the shock of reality hit me. I saw the … thejoyin your eyes.”
The joy in my eyes.
It was truly a magical moment we shared, River and I, in that secluded spot in Cottonwood Cove. A moment I’ll never capture again in my lifetime.
“There were other pics, too,” Theo goes on. “Pics I saw just before I deleted them off his phone. Your laughter … how River lit up your whole face … I have never seen you so happy, Finn.” He swallows before saying the rest. “Even when … when you were with me.”
I feel the breath escaping my lungs at his words.
This really isn’t the same Theo.
Our breakup has done him favors, too.
“Let me make this right,” he says once more. “For both of you,” he adds with a nervous glance at River.
The sound of distant shouting draws us quiet. Outside. Indistinct shouting, as if from a concert, the swelling buzz of anticipation for something huge, itching for the band to come back out onto the stage for an encore, the drumming of feet against pavement.
“It’s only a matter of time,” murmurs River with dread.
Theo comes up to me. “Give me your clothes.”
I turn to him. “Say what?”
“Want me to go?” he asks. “You said so a minute ago. Said you wanted me to walk outta here and take the circus with me.” He smiles, inspired. “Fine. I’ll do exactly that.”
Then Theo starts to undress.
“Whoa, whoa …” River lifts his hands. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”
“C’mon, Finn,” urges Theo, his mesh tank top off, now kicking off his shoes and going for his shorts. “You gotta trade clothes with me. Give me that loud-ass hoodie thing.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, reaching out to stop him.
He grins at me, his eyes twinkling with motivation. “I’m becoming the man of the hour: you.”
I stare back at him, stunned. “Theo … you can’t—”
He takes hold of my Hopewell hoodie-tank—drenched from my workout and sweated through from racing away from the news van outside in the heat—and starts peeling it off for me. I’m in a daze as I slowly succumb to the insane idea, putting on Theo’s mesh tank, then trading out my gym shorts for his ripped up black ones with the chain.
Theo has done a plethora of absurd, unexpected things in our time together. This is by far the most absurd.
