Page 67 of Finding New Dreams

“Oh, uh…” My mind blanked for a moment, caught off guard. “I was actually wondering if…if you’d still teach me that class you wagered for. At Lumberjack Jam.”

His eyebrows shot up as his shoulders relaxed. “Really? You want me to teach you?”

I waved a hand at his painting. “Well, yeah! I mean, look at this, Flynn. If that’s not worth a million dollars, nothing is.”

He winced, glancing at the painting then back to me. “Sure. I actually need to get going—promised Chloe I’d be there for a video call with our parents. But I’ll message you.”

“Okay, sounds good.” I shifted back and forth on the balls of my feet. “Um, good luck with the video call. Goodnight!”

Without waiting for him to respond, I rushed out the door and up to my apartment. Of all the ways I’d imagined that going, not knowing what he was thinking wasn’t one of them.

After two hours of clutching my phone and jumping at every buzz while watching an episode of a historical romance drama, he finally messaged.

ArtsyHotGuy3234: Sorry I got so quiet earlier. I guess it always surprises me a bit when someone loves my work so much. But really, truly, I appreciate it. With all my <3 Now about that class…meet me behind Bud’s at 9 tomorrow night. Don’t worry about bringing anything. I got us covered ;)

I exhaled my earlier worry and grinned.

RoseWithLove: I totally get it. And I really, truly meant what I said :) Can’t wait for tomorrow night, O Art Genius ;)

The typing dots rippled then stopped. Then, a few moments later, started again.

ArtsyHotGuy3234: I’m honestly just returning the favor. Goodnight, Rose. Sweet dreams.

RoseWithLove: :) Goodnight, Flynn. Sweet dreams.

I was about to tuck my phone away when a message request popped up from another user, ApPaulIngPuns33. My lips quirked at his joke, assuming his name was Paul. His profile picture was of a handsome, sandy-haired man in his thirties crouched next to a golden retriever.

My finger hovered over his profile name, to check out his bio. A pinch of guilt trembled through my gut.

Why did it feel wrong to check out other men?

Flynn.

But what we had wasn’t real. All this flirting, all the charged tension between us, it would leave with him. Right?

Whereas this man was real. Hopefully looking for a genuine relationship. Obviously, I’d have to do my research, check my boxes, but…how was I supposed to do that while I was tangled up with another man?

My mouth twisted in discomfort, and I shut my phone off without responding to Paul’s request.

That could wait. Tomorrow night couldn’t.

17

ROSE

Damp mist curled around my bare ankles as I hurried down the dock behind Bud’s Fishing Shack.

Flynn had left the gallery before me, saying he needed to prepare. I’d locked up a bit early, which wasn’t unusual for a Thursday night, but I’d been itching for sunset since sunrise.

I’d run upstairs to eat a quick dinner and change into a floaty purple skirt, off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse, and strappy sandals.

Then I’d rattled around my apartment for another two hours, switching from laundry to reading to cleaning to TV-watching every few minutes. Chloe called while I was in the middle of dusting the tops of my cabinets to confirm again that she would be picking me up at four o’clock sharp tomorrow afternoon. I confirmed and ended the call as quickly as possible, saying how excited I was for our bridal party getaway weekend up north.

And I really was excited to go have some fun with my friends, but I had other things on my mind. Well, one thing. The bride’s brother.

At 8:55, I’d marched out the door and hurried through the quieting streets of Tangled River.

A twig snapped ahead of me, somewhere on the beach in the shadowy shrubs.

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