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CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
MARISSA
“So, everything is fine. Your mom is fine. Your dad is fine. Your sister is fine.” Peyton steps up to the SUV as I shut it off and swing the door open.
I wait patiently as she takes a step back, allowing me to slide out of the car while scowling at something over my shoulder.
“Campbell Taylor, this is Peyton Atkins. She’s my best friend and owns the bakery on Main Street.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” His voice drops a few octaves, a newfound seductive purr in his voice.
Peyton doesn’t say a word. Her cheeks are a bright shade of pink, and her eyes widen in surprise. She stands motionless, not even uttering a word.
“Earth to Peyton.” I chuckle, waving my hand in front of her face, but she doesn’t move a muscle. “I think you may have short-circuited her brain.”
“That may be a first for me,” Campbell responds sarcastically, walking around the car and grabbing the boxes of donuts from Peyton’s hands. He smirks at her before leaning forward and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll take these inside for you. See you later, Peyton.”
“See you,” she mumbles, an embarrassed and confused look on her face.
I have no idea what came over my friend, but it seems that Campbell might not have to work as hard to get into her good graces as I originally thought. The only question is if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Peyton shakes her head before striding in the opposite direction.
“You know the front of the church is that way, right?” I question as I catch up to her, threading my arm through hers. “But what I really want to know is why you were waiting for me to arrive at the church.”
I nervously twiddle with the edges of her shirt, waiting impatiently for her to answer. “The most stressful thing I have to deal with today is the possibility of running into Finn.”
“Maybe you should brace yourself.” All my muscles lock up as I freeze, unable to take another step. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight as a sense of impending doom overcomes me.
“If this is a joke, it’s not a funny one, Peyton.” I chuckle as I take a seat on the first bench I see. “Come on and tell me what’s really wrong. I can take it. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid and tell me.”
I grip her arm so tight that my knuckles start to turn white from the pressure.
“I saw Finn inside.”
That small phrase feels like a punch in the gut as I buckle over and rest my arms on my knees.
“Sitting in the same pew as your parents.”
“Of course, you did.” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.
Of all the things I thought Peyton was going to tell me, that wasn’t one of them.
I knew that Finn was back in town. I knew I’d have to deal with that eventually, but not a few hours after I was told. I need time to prepare what I’m going to say to him. To figure out the perfect way to tell him how I feel about him in hopes that he cares about me as much as he did all those weeks ago.
“Does he look happy?” I question, wanting to know everything about his life since he left town a few weeks ago.
“He looks good, but the light he once had in his eyes has dimmed.” Peyton drops her head onto my shoulder.
“Did he say how long he was staying in town?” I mumble, laying my head on top of hers.
“He didn’t say anything to me. Just smirked in my direction before taking a seat next to his mother. I was going to talk to him but figured any good friend would come out here and warn you. I didn’t want you to be blindsided when you came into church.”
A sense of longing fills me as I take a deep breath, letting my eyes slide shut for a few seconds as I try to calm myself.
“Mari,” Peyton whispers, but I refuse to open my eyes. If I keep them shut, maybe, just maybe, I can pretend that this isn’t happening. “He’s right there.”
I jump out of the seat, almost knocking Peyton to the ground as I catch a glimpse of Finn standing in front of me. My chest aches with the longing that I’ve felt since the last time I saw him. It’s only been a few weeks, but it feels more like an eternity. He looks almost exactly the same as he did that day. His hair is damp from a recent shower, and he’s wearing a royal blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and dark jeans fitted perfectly to his muscular legs.
