“You sure?” He glanced at her phone. “You’ll be where by eleven? Kincaid’s?”
Liv ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the bedhead and her annoyance. “No. Work. There’s a crisis, and apparently, my boss never approved this vacation day.”
“That sucks.” He frowned and handed her one of the coffees.
“Thanks.” She took a long sip, feeling weighed down all of a sudden. “It does suck. It’s not a total shock. I was taking a risk asking for a Monday off, but I thought it was squared away. I should’ve known to double-check.”
Finn leaned against the counter. “What about Kincaid? Isn’t she cooking all kinds of things for the photo shoot?”
Liv’s shoulders sagged, more stress piling on. “Yes, I need to call her, make sure she doesn’t start cooking. Damn. Now all her ingredients might go bad by the time I can get back.”
“They might last until next weekend.”
She groaned. “But I won’t be here. This project is going to go through the weekend.”
Finn’s frown deepened. “So I’m not going to see you for two weeks?”
Liv set down her coffee and rubbed the now-throbbing spot between her eyebrows. “Yes. Preston’s not so aware that weekends and weekdays are different things. I was going to work extra hours during the week to make this summer work, but when big projects come up, I’m going to have to be there.”
“So this could happen all summer then,” he said grimly.
“Maybe.” She forced brightness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “Missing me already?”
“I missed you when I walked out last night,” he said, no flirtatiousness in the tone.
The stark honesty jabbed her in her chest, made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling. “Oh.”
He leaned against the counter. “I get it. Work is work. But you made a commitment to Kincaid. And to yourself. And I already emailed my mom telling her I’d be visiting next weekend.”
She set down her coffee, guilt flooding her. “I’m sorry. Can you move it?”
He considered her, something closing off in his expression. “No, it’s fine. This isn’t about me. I’m a big boy and can go solo.”
She rolled her lips inward and nodded. “Righ
t.”
“Well,” he said grabbing one of the paper bags he’d brought in and handing it to her. “I got you a bacon-and-egg biscuit for the road. I’ll head out so you can get ready.”
He stepped past her, and she clutched the bag in her hand, feeling a chill in the room. “Finn?”
He gripped the doorjamb and looked back. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for the change in plans.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Not your fault.”
“You seem mad.”
He turned and folded his arms over his chest. “No, not mad. I’m just wondering if you didn’t push back on your boss because it’s easier to leave than stay.”
Her stomach flipped over. “What?”
“Sometimes the devil we know isn’t as scary. Here you have to deal with a friend’s expectations. Here you have to figure out if you’re still talented with your camera. Here you have to deal with a morning-after conversation when you’ve made it clear that you’re a cut-and-run kind of girl.”
Her spine stiffened. “You think I’m running out because I don’t want to have the after-sex talk?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But I think your boss gave you an out from all of this, and you took it.”