But every time she thought of that night with Finn, she got a pang deep in her gut, one that reminded her what she’d left behind. Long Acre, Finn, and her friends seemed like another universe when she was away from it. One that she used to be able pack into a vault in her mind and ignore. But now it wouldn’t stay locked away. It tugged at her in a way that made her chest hurt. Even talking to Kincaid like this stirred an ache inside her. They’d grown so close those months after the shooting, and then Liv had just closed the door on her like everything else. She didn’t want to do that again.
“I guess I’m scared,” she finally admitted.
“Of him?”
“Of the fairy-tale trap.” The words hadn’t been what she’d meant to say, but once they were out, the truth of them resonated through her.
“You mean, falling for him?”
“No.” She frowned. “I know better than to let that happen. But I’ve always been really good at creating a fantasy world when I want to escape. In high school, I was struggling with my mom being sick so I created this secret little world with Finn—one where I got to sneak away and forget who I was and pretend I was some other girl. And then after the shooting, I went to college and used alcohol and guys to pretend I was this carefree badass who lived on her own terms, even though I was a wreck inside. Now I’ve finally gotten my life together, and I’m sneaking away to a lake house to take pretty pictures and be with a guy while we pretend our real lives don’t exist. It’s dangerous and feels too familiar.”
“Right,” Kincaid said. “But you’re not running away from anything right now, are you? I mean, what are you escaping? You have a good life, it sounds like.”
Liv rolled a pencil along her desk, back and forth, back and forth. “My life is fine.”
“So maybe this isn’t a fantasy so much as an augmentation. A b
onus. With a penis.”
Liv laugh-snorted and one of her coworkers looked up from his desk. She faked a cough. “You have a way with words, Kincaid.”
“All I’m saying is that we’re all screwed up in some way, right? We’re human. We’re survivors. That all has its own baggage. God knows I have mine. But we all seem to be doing okay now. You’re allowed to have fun. You’re allowed to have a fling with an old boyfriend and not feel like it’s some big life decision or an unhealthy coping mechanism. Be smart about it, but don’t deny yourself some simple life pleasures. Taking your photos. Hanging out with your awesome, amazing, super-wise friends. And hot cop penis.”
A real laugh burst out of Liv this time, and she quickly pressed her hand over her mouth to staunch it. “He’s FBI, for the record.”
“Federal cop penis,” Kincaid corrected. “That’s top shelf. It has authority across state lines.”
Liv shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And awesome, amazing, and super wise?”
“Obviously.”
She could almost hear Kincaid’s grin over the phone. “So when are you going to get back out here and take these pictures for me, woman? Because this whole pep talk has been a thinly veiled ploy to get your talented butt out here to help me not embarrass myself on my blog.”
Liv glanced at the clock and then calculated the amount of work she had left. Too much. But her resolve had been renewed. “I’m going to do everything I can to knock the first part of this project out by Friday. If I can pull a few late nights, I can tell my boss I’m taking Saturday and Sunday off and will finish the rest next week.”
“Yay, perfect. Let me know.”
Liv told her she would, and they said their goodbyes. It was already close to seven, but Liv got up and made herself another cup of coffee. If she could pull this off, she’d not only be able to help Kincaid, but she’d get back in time to go with Finn to his parents’ house.
With a smile and more resolve than she’d felt since leaving Wilder, she got back to work.
* * *
By Friday afternoon, Liv’s eyes felt like they were going to melt out of her head. She’d worked every night this week until the wee hours of the morning, bringing the project home with her and doing little else. She’d thrown herself into all the details, making sure it wasn’t a rush job despite the crazed schedule. The account was a big one, and she wanted to nail it to show Preston and the client that they could count on her to deliver great work.
The pace had taken its toll, and exhaustion was settling in. But it was worth it because she was now ahead of the proposed schedule and had gotten to the point that would allow her to take off the weekend without guilt. She could almost smell the lake air, hear the water lapping at the shore, feel the warmth of Finn’s body against her in bed…
“Hey, Olivia?”
Liv looked up, startled out of her thoughts. Annabelle, one of the junior designers, stood in front of her desk with an apologetic smile. Liv sat up straighter and pasted an I-wasn’t-thinking-about-X-rated-things look onto her face. “Hey, what’s up?”
Annabelle held out her hand, a bright-pink sticky note attached to her fingers. “So I’ve been trying to build a members-only page for this client, but I made some mistake in the code somewhere and it’s letting anyone get in and access paid features. I’d tried to figure it out, but it’s going to take more time than I have. I’m playing a gig with my band tonight and really need to be there. Pres said I should let you take a look since you’re ahead on your project and are a genius with these kinds of things.”
“Pres said—” Liv frowned and grabbed the sticky note that had the client’s account info on it. “Big show?”
Annabelle brightened. “Yeah. It’s Battle of the Bands at Three Thirsty Roosters.”