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A week later, Liv stared at her screen, her eyes trying to close as she adjusted the aspect ratio on a header for the hundredth time. One of her most important clients had changed her mind ten different times on how she wanted the home page to look, and now nothing was looking right to Liv. She’d worked twelve-hour days, including last weekend, and now her brain was staging a protest, marching around with signs and blocking any solutions.

It hadn’t helped that she’d barely slept the last few days. Since agreeing to spend weekends at Finn’s, she’d felt a constant hum of anxiety, which was making her wonder if she was doing the right thing. A whisper of unease could quickly turn into an all-out panic fest if she wasn’t careful. She could feel that old monster breathing down her neck, just waiting for a crack in the curtains so it could slip back into her life and take over.

She reached for her water and took a long drink, trying to tamp down the infiltrating thoughts. She didn’t have time to sit here and worry. She needed to focus. Work. That was what had saved her in the first place. That was what she was good at.

Texting with Finn was a fun distraction—a really fun distraction—but her life wasn’t set up to be away every weekend.

She leaned back in her squeaky office chair and sighed. Lying to herself wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

Yes, she was busy. Her job was important to her. But she was also scared.

Really freaking scared.

She’d avoided anything to do with Long Acre for so long that this felt like charging into the fire without protection. She wouldn’t be in her hometown, but she’d be right by it. She’d be with high school friends. She’d pick up her camera for the first time in forever. She’d be with Finn.

Nerves rippled over her, making her hands tremble.

She swallowed past the knot in her throat and glanced down at her phone, reading through the conversation Finn had started with her over lunch today.

Finn: Got all the rats & pestilence out of the pool house. It *could* be haunted, but I doubt the spirits mean any harm.

Liv: So if I visit this weekend, I get 2 B a woman in a gothic horror novel? Do u have a sick recluse I’m supposed 2 take care of? Or maybe a child that stares at me & doesn’t talk?

Finn: A recluse. But I’m not sick.

Liv: Just ur sense of humor?

Finn: Yes, that’s definitely sick

Finn: So is my guest going 2 B checking in?

Liv: Preston’s back later today, have 2 make sure he doesn’t need me this weekend.

If only she could feel as breezy and confident as she appeared in her texts. She sighed and glanced toward her boss’s office. Preston still wasn’t back from his meetings, and she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say anyway. He wasn’t going to give her a pass on finishing this project. If it wasn’t done by the end of the day tomorrow, she’d be expected to work on it over the weekend.

So she had two choices: use that as an excuse for Finn, or bust her ass to get her work done and go to Wilder.

Her fingers moved over her phone screen.

Liv: U sure u still want me there? Seems like ur doing OK now.

The words glared back at her from the screen, calling her a coward as she waited for Finn’s response. A few minutes passed before her phone vibrated again.

Finn: There’s no obligation. I told u that. But u weren’t coming just for me.

She sighed.

Liv: Stop pointing out true things

Finn: I’ll try to lie more

Liv: OK. Sorry. Will let u know what my boss says.

Another minute passed before his response came.

Finn: U don’t have to do this, u know. I want u here, but if ur not ready, I get it. The last thing I want to do is force or guilt u into something. U can say no. I’m not going to hold it against u.


Tags: Roni Loren The Ones Who Got Away Romance