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Page 2 of The Moment Promised

His car smells strongly of him. Leather and a hint of deodorant that smells like expensive cologne. It’s a scent he started wearing in high school, and when I’d asked him what cologne it was, he shrugged and told me his mom got him a newdeodorant, which was always amusing to me. But it made up the unique scent I’ve grown to love.

Despite what a passing stranger might assume by his fragrance, Finn isn’t one of those guys into their own appearance. I don’t think he even looks in the mirror before leaving the house. Yet he always manages to appear put together and smells like his wallet is bursting at the seams. And he’s oblivious to all of it.

“How generous of you.” I squint my eyes to meet his, as if I were under harsh lighting.

“We’ll get your car in the morning. Youdohave a spare key, right?” he says in a teasing voice, putting the car in reverse, and backing us out of the parking spot.

I roll my eyes. “You have an F in economics, right?”

“You’re funnier than that, love.” He calls me the nickname he’s been calling me for years, but for some reason my stomach warms at the sound.

He pulls onto the one main road, a highway that connects all the islands that make up The Florida Keys. We live on the closest island to the mainland—Key Largo.

I glance at the time displayed on the dash. It’s a little past midnight, June fifteenth.

I wag my eyebrows in the birthday boy’s direction and start to sing “Happy Birthday.”

“You know how much I love hearing you sing, but for the sake of our passengers...keep it down.”

I roll my eyes. We’re the only two people in this car. I belt it out, but he places his entire hand over my mouth, and once my muffled singing goes quiet, he removes his hand only to put it on my knee.

I clear my throat to put my suddenly shallow breath at bay.It’s only Finn.

“So, wisetwenty-year-old man, have any wisdom to pass down to the younger generation?” Finn is only two months older than I am. But I never let him forget it.

My lips upturn, giddy to be back in my best friend’s presence, but it quickly turns to a frown. “You passed my street.”

“You can sleep at my parents’ tonight.” His voice is suddenly hoarse.

“But I have to check on my mom! What if?—”

“Where is your house key?” His amber colored eyes are dark as he focuses straight ahead, already knowing the answer while my mind tries to catch up.

I picture my keys, trapped in my locked car. I shift uneasily in my seat, bringing the tip of my thumb to my mouth as I bite the nail.

“She’ll be okay,” Finn whispers, grabbing my wrist, pulling it toward the center console as he holds the steering wheel with his left hand. “It’s just one night, love,” he coos, and my anxiety eases for a second.

It’s the middle of the night. My mom is surely passed out by now, unable to open the door and let me in anyway.

I let my eyes follow the world whizzing by through the window. The streetlights dance around my vision as Finn speeds past them. Before I know it, we’re pulling into a driveway.

Finn Walker’s childhood home hasn’t changed one bit. The driveway is still made of tiny white rocks, like most here in the Keys. The rainbow windmill we made together when we were kids still catches the breeze in the yard, and Finn’s dad still has his collection of seashells in a flowerpot by the front door.

Being here feels so…

“Nostalgic,” I say, as Finn unlocks the door.

He holds it open and gestures for me to enter. “Ladies first, madam.” He gives me a sarcastic smile and bow of his head.

I don’t say thank you, instead I stick out my tongue like the nineteen-year-old I am.

“Nostalgic.” Finn throws my observation back at me.

The moon coming through the window is the only light source. My eyes adjust, taking in my surroundings.Home. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, and Finn’s eyes twinkle in amusement as he watches me.

“You look nice, Ad,” he says without a hint of sarcasm.

I glance at him warily, and then down at my clothes. I’m wearing black jeans and a striped red and white polo shirt that reads Pete’swith a few grease stains. My name tag reads Adele, since that was the girl who quit before me, and Pete figured it was close enough when he handed it to me with a shrug.




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