I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You let me believe it was my fault. You gave me a kissing lesson for Christ’s sake.”
“You did what?” Fake Friend Marnie suddenly seemed as mad as I was. Then she shook her head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. But maybe you should stop lying to your dates by telling them that there’s nothing going on between you and your roommate.”
Without even waiting for me to get up, she stood on the booth seat and threw one leg over the back, then the other, and was gone.
Finn reached for her. “Marnie, it’s not what it sounds like.”
But Fake Friend Marnie wasn’t listening. She’d covered half the distance to the front door already.
Then he turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Why couldn’t this have waited till I got home, Scarlett? Tell me why.”
“That’s what you’re going with? You’ve been secretly scaring off my dates for four years, giving me the longest dry spell in the history of university students everywhere, and you’re questioning my timing?”
He at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I was looking out for you,” he said again.
“This is not okay, Finn.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, laying a palm out. “It’s not like you’ve never interfered in my love life before.”
I shook my head. “You’re trying to deflect the focus.”
“How about taking Marnie into my bedroom to show her that your paintings are on the wall? What was that about?”
“She asked, I showed,” I said, unrepentant.
He tapped his fingers on the table top. “It was interfering, Scarlett, and you know it.”
“Nope, I won’t take the rap on that one.” Marnie’s fake smile appeared in my mind. “Although, she was annoying, and you’re better off without her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what about Veronica?”
“Veronica?” I ran through a mental list of the women Finn had dated but couldn’t place her.
“You remember her. Bright blue streaks in her hair.”
My mental search stopped as I realized who he meant. “Her name was Victoria.”
He shrugged one shoulder as if forgetting his ex-girlfriend’s name was inconsequential, the ratfink. “You told her she was better off moving on.”
Was he serious? “The girl was in tears on our doorstep after you’d stood her up for the third time in a row. Even now you can’t remember her name. Don’t try and tell me you were in love with her.”
“Of course I wasn’t in love with her.” His face screwed up as if I’d said something crazy. “But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point, Finn?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I might have interfered in your love life, but you interfered in mine as well.”
“It’s not even in the same postcode of what you did. A couple of interactions, which may or may not have had an effect, are nothing like your systematic campaign to scare off any guy I date.”
Although, I had an uncomfortable memory of my brother’s ex-girlfriend, Annalise, accusing me of interfering in her love life by telling Thomas she wasn’t good enough for him. Which wasn’t true—he’d been madly in love with her, and she hadn’t reciprocated the feelings. I’d simply told him he deserved someone who loved him as much as he loved her.
“And what about Cathy and Mike?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes, not liking where this was going. “What about them? They’re deliriously happy.”
“But they almost weren’t. I seem to remember you being outraged about a text he sent her when he ran into his ex. You talked her into dumping him.”
I waved the issue away with a flick of my wrist. “I fixed it once I realized my mistake. And we’re all still friends.”
So maybe I was opinionated at times, but still, voicing an opinion was vastly different than secretly ordering someone’s date to leave. That it had been happening behind my back for so long felt like a betrayal. Like I wasn’t even sure who he was anymore, or what our friendship was.
It was too much—I needed to sort through it all before I said anything else.
I slid out of the booth and stood. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Hang on,” he said and stood beside me. “I’ll walk you out to your car.”
We didn’t say a word on the short walk, and as I climbed in and closed the door, he nodded at me and headed for his own car. And for the first time ever, I wished I didn’t live in the same house as my best friend. More than anything in that moment, I needed a little space to think this through.
Instead, I started my car and drove the few blocks home to the house where the man I was mad at was also headed.
Finn
Two days later, things were still tense with Scarlett. I’d tried a couple of my no-fail strategies to make peace, including cooking on her night, and making a surprise jug of mojitos. She was politely grateful each time, but neither had made a dent in her stonewall armor. The words she’d spoken to me had been pretty much limited to “yes,” “no,” and “can you pass the mustard.”
And to make it worse, while she was avoiding my eyes and saying practically nothing to me, all I could think about was kissing her. Of walking her backward to my room, kicking the door closed, and kissing every last inch of her.
The fact that I was having these thoughts when she was talking to her parents, or when my little sister was in the room, only made me hate myself more.
It had started after the damn kissing lesson and been growing stronger ever since. Even if Marnie hadn’t stormed out of the bar the other night, things weren’t going to last. Not that I’d let anything happen with Scarlett, but it wouldn’t have been fair to Marnie to date her when I was thinking about kissing someone else. No more dating until I had this weird phase of fantasizing about Scarlett under control.
As we ate dinner, Scarlett and I sat on the sofa with Amelia, watching TV, pretending everything was okay. Though it was clear Amelia knew something was up; she was darting glances at us when she thought we weren’t watching. Smart kid, that one.
A dog barked somewhere outside and Amelia sat up straight. “What was that?”
“A dog,” I said and took another spoonful of pumpkin soup.
“Thanks, Einstein,” she said, shooting me a withering glance. “That part I got myself.”
Scarlett took another piece of herb bread from the plate on the coffee table. “Perhaps Mr. Snuggles?”
Amelia shook her head. “He lives two doors down and this dog was closer. Plus, it was bigger.”
I shrugged and changed the TV channel. “Probably someone walking their dog.”
“But it wasn’t from the front,” Amelia persisted.
“It was just—” I stopped when there was a second bark. Now that I was paying more attention, it was obvious she was right. In fact, it sounded like the barking was coming from our backyard. Which was crazy because we had fences so a dog couldn’t wander in, and Scarlett’s parents were out there anyway…
Scarlett’s head whipped around and she met my gaze, obviously coming to the same suspicion I was. My stomach sank. Yeah, her parents were in the backyard.
Despite the annoyance that was already rising, I put my bowl of soup on the coffee table carefully, summoning all my patience as I did. Then I stood and headed for the back door. By the time I reached the threshold, Scarlett and Amelia were both behind me. We marched down the pathway and I felt strangely like a sheriff from the old West with his two deputies. Although if there really was a dog in that tent, my deputies were going to be no help.
The tent flap was open, with only the mozzie net zipped up to keep the insects at bay, and with the light on inside, there was no privacy for the occupants. For the three occupants.
“Mum? Dad?” Scarlett called out.
“Oh, hey, sweetie,” her dad said, and came over to unzip the net screen. “I hope Harvey didn’t bother you?”
“Harvey?” I repeated, not quite believing how casually they’d mentioned the dog.