Page 37 of Finding New Dreams

“How do you keep track of them?” Chloe asked, digging into her salad.

“I, um, have a little journal with their names and a few details about them and our dates. You know, likes and dislikes.”

Gina giggled, spilling her spoonful of peas back onto her plate. “Like, Bachelor #47, hot, but never changes his underwear and thinks cooking means microwaving leftovers?”

We laughed.

“Or Bachelor #53 who immediately starts calling you ‘babe’ and sending you naked pics,” Sarah added.

I wrinkled my nose. “Those guys get blocked immediately.”

We passed more and more suggestions around the table as we ate, some ridiculous, some sadly real. But with Chloe about to get married and Sarah in love and living with her boyfriend, these scenarios were no longer their reality.

They were mine, though.

They didn’t know how rare it was to have such an instant and consuming attraction to someone. To finally find someone who wasn’t a creeper or a complete jerk.

Well, they did, since they’d found Hunter and Carter. But they hadn’t been looking. I never seemed to stop looking. Everywhere I went, I kept myself open for the possibility of a connection. Maybe I’d meet someone’s eyes in a grocery checkout line or bump into them outside a restaurant.

Or someone would walk up to me on a dance floor crowded with beautiful women and only have eyes for me.

It was the connection I’d been searching for—dreaming of—but was it still the wrong guy?

I remembered how his arm felt around my waist, just a few hours ago. The smell of paint and his seductively spicy cologne had made my mind sluggish with desire. His wickedly talented fingers stroking my skin, marking me, had nearly melted my bones. Then those whispered words. I remembered them as vividly as if he’d scorched them into my thoughts. I’d almost pinched myself, wondering if it was all a dream.

Because moments like that could only ever be a dream, right?

Except with Flynn.

“You still with us, Rosie?” Gina murmured out of the corner of her mouth, as she gave me a gentle nudge in the ribs.

I blinked, the sounds of the restaurant and the faces of my friends coming back into focus.

Thankfully, Chloe and Sarah hadn’t seemed to notice my mind wandering.

I smiled at Gina and finished my black bean burger. We paid our bills and went our separate ways with a cheery reminder from Chloe that we needed to do our hair, makeup, and dress dry run this Sunday at three o’clock sharp, starting at River Roots.

Back out in the warm sunshine, Gina walked with me back to Exquisite Moments. Where Flynn would be waiting.

Was he still upset with me? I still wasn’t even sure why. Maybe he thought I’d be mad at him for forgetting to lock the door until opening. Not that art thieves were swarming my gallery, but I preferred caution over being a cautionary tale.

I also believed in not punishing innocent mistakes and allowing learning curves. But maybe he didn’t know that.

“Do you think Chloe and Sarah are right?” I asked Gina as we strolled down the windswept sidewalk. “That getting involved with Flynn would bring nothing but heartbreak? I mean, I already told everyone, including Flynn, that we would be just friends, to make everything easier. But…what do you think?”

Gina pursed her lips and toyed with the end of her braid. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Rose. And they did make a good case for not getting attached to him. And I don’t want you to get hurt—my friend who cries any time someone else cries, in a movie or real life.”

I gave her a playful shove. “Hey, now, I can’t help that one. But just because I’m a crier doesn’t mean I can’t keep hold of my heart strings.”

“No,” she said carefully with a small smile. “You’ve been through more than your fair share of heartache in life, but you’re still one of the most optimistic people I know. But the real question is: Could you have some no-strings fun with this guy, then let him go?”

I debated it in my head as we got closer to Exquisite Moments. When I couldn’t make heads or tails of an answer, I told the truth. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s better for everyone if we’re just friends.”

We stopped outside the large windows filled with my art. I could see Flynn walking with an older couple, gesturing at one of my river paintings and grinning. His brown hair was loose around his face, brushing his broad shoulders.

My heart did a little flip.

Gina looked at him too, then at me, her expression all too knowing. “But then again, the heart doesn’t always do what we tell it to, does it?”

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