Page 25 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
It’s all for show. I can remind myself of that as often as I’d like, but it doesn’t change how my traitorous heart feels. I want Cassidy. I want this relationship and this future with her.
My dad’s footsteps crack across the floor, and then he’s in front of me and his hand is on my shoulder. “You can do it, son,” he says emphatically. “It takes work, but it’s work you can do.” He glances away. “I’m going to go home. You always need to work in silence when your mind gets like this.”
How long has he known that? How many times has he left me alone when my brain is too loud? Although I don’t think it’s ever been as loud as right now.
He’s gone before I can say something, walking right out of the workshop and no doubt home to Mom. I stare after him, touched by his confidence in me but wishing he had slightly more actionable advice.
This marriage might be sending me spinning, but the reality is that Cassidy is in it for what it can get her. Cassidy wants her house and she wants to feel safe here in town. She wants to be treated respectfully. She doesn’t want a man ten years older than her who she didn’t even choose for herself.
I need to get my shit together. We have the town meeting coming up, and after that, her house will be secure. I refuse to entertain another outcome. And we shouldn’t instantly dissolveour marriage, not when it’s all so fresh in everyone’s mind, but eventually, that’ll be the goal. She’ll want out. She’ll want to get back to her real life. And I can’t get in too deep before that happens, no matter what my dad says.
Ignoring the fox sculpture entirely, I sit down at my drafting table. I have my pencil in hand before I even know what I’m doing, tracing the lines of a familiar form across a blank sheet of paper.
Something tells me that Cassidy would kill me if I actually sculpted her. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman to appreciate that kind of attention. And I never sculpt humanoid figures, anyway. She would be outside of my skill set.
Even so, I begin to trace out her outline, setting her figure to paper. It’s like I can’t help myself, my hands moving before I even know what I’m doing. She’s kind of perfect in a way I can’t explain, and if I don’t commit her to some sort of permanent form, then I’ll lose my mind.
It’s stupid and probably hurting me more. I’m digging myself in deeper into something that’s not real. But I can’t help myself.
When I’m done, it’s about time to pick Cassidy up at work. I got no work done on the actual sculpture I’m being paid to make today, and I’m not even sure if my progress on the sketchmakes me feel any better. I’m still consumed by that kiss, unable to escape it.
I tuck the sketch into the bottom of my pile of sketches and plans. Not that there’s any reason for Cassidy to come in here, but I don’t want to risk it. It screamsobsessedin a way that’s not appropriate for our relationship as it currently stands.
Before I fly to the store, I go to her house and set everything I’ll need for dinner on the counter. We’re running low on food and will need to do the shopping soon. Maybe I can do it when I drop her off at work tomorrow.
By the time I’m landing in front of the store, Cassidy is already walking out. I study her carefully, noting how tired she looks.
She walks right up to me, puts her hands on my forearms, and leans up. She can’t reach my face on her own, not unless she plans to climb me like a tree—andthatis an image I’ll have to put away for later—so I bend down to her, letting her kiss me like she’s genuinely missed me all day long.
My arm curls around her waist, pulling her closer to me. There’s a part of me that needs every inch of her touching every inch of me. There’s another part that remembers where we are and why we’re in this position, but that part is getting quieter.
“Hi,” she murmurs, smiling softly up at me when she finally pulls back.
“Hey yourself.” My voice comes out distractingly rough. I clear my throat. “Ready to go?”
She nods. “Let’s go home.”
Home. The word sends a jolt of lightning straight through me, almost as powerful as her kiss. Cassidy is trying to kill me.
I scoop her up before I can do something stupid, like tell her how I’m feeling. She laughs, not expecting me to move so fast, and I’m in the air before she can say anything, a powerful beat of my wings taking us up and over the town.
“It must be so nice to be able to fly whenever you want,” she says, sighing and relaxing in my arms.
I hold her a little tighter. “I’ll take you flying any time you want, Cassidy.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I’m hungry to know what she’s thinking about. “Thanks, Finn.” she murmurs, giving nothing away.
The way she says my name does something to me. Everything she does does something to me, to be honest. Cassidy is devastating in a way I didn’t expect and I’m growing more and more worried that she’s going to ruin me entirely.
Chapter 13
Cassidy
When we get home, we compromise on our earlier stand-off about chores and make dinner together. Then we sit and watch another movie—Finn seems to think he might get quizzed on the genre and needs to catch up to speed—before we go to bed.
Finn is a pleasant person to be around. Not that I thought he wouldn’t be—he’s a nice guy. No one coaxes a scared, grieving little girl down from a tree as gently as he did to help out a virtual stranger if they’re not good. No one rakes the lawn of a neighbor without a single word, expecting no thanks, if they’re not a nice person. But I kind of assumed he’d keep to himself and we wouldn’t have anything in common to talk about. I didn’t think conversations would be this easy.
Time passes quickly when we’re together. Each moment is electric. He makes me laugh with his wry questions during themovie, and he moves around me in the kitchen like we’ve been practicing this for years.
