Page 10 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

Stepping into the Daydream

Lucy

It was weird to hear that a cute guy had a crush on you when you were younger.

It somehow changed everything and nothing.

I couldn’t stop my brain from reframing all of my history with Finn, despite it changing nothing about my life now.

Stealing my pencils and then forcing me to define a random word to earn them back one by one?

That’s how boys show their love? It would have been much clearer if he’d handed me a “do you like me, check yes or no” note in Algebra.

Sure, there had been a time or two when my mom said he probably had a crush on me, but no one ever believed moms in matters of the heart—they had to love you. They couldn’t exactly say that somebody else didn’t.

But apparently, she was right. I almost wanted to text Mom and tell her—or maybe my cousins. Yet my cousin Chloe had called the night before to talk, and I hadn’t told her. A little part of me was embarrassed to admit how big a deal it was in my mind.

Because it shouldn’t be; it had been a decade. It meant nothing for the here and now.

I threw a water bottle and a couple of granola bars from the nightstand into my bag.

I had no clue how long we’d be in Charlottetown.

There were several Anne-related and non-Anne-related things to do, but the tour list Fi nn had sent me had the barest of bones possible, so I had to be prepared for anything.

We could be getting on a plane in Charlottetown, and Finn probably wouldn’t have written it down.

We could be walking to Charlottetown, even.

Which would be cruel, but it was only about a half hour away, so not impossible.

I looked down at my feet. Maybe I’d want tennis shoes instead of sandals.

There was a knock at my door, and I shrugged my purse over my shoulder before pulling it open. Gemma Hastings stood on the landing, a head shorter than me and with a smile brighter than a diamond ring.

“Finn tells me you’re joining us!”

I froze. I hadn’t even considered the fact that this meant I was crashing their family reunion.

Sure, I’d emailed Finn about adding any tour costs to my bill at the B it’s been a little bit strange not to have somebody’s friend along on this trip. Feels like we’re not together as a family if we don’t have a bonus friend.”

“Oh, well…” I didn’t even know what to say.

Back when I was a kid, my family had felt big even though it had just been me and my parents.

Extended trips with my cousins and Grandma Sue and Grandpa Tim were a given.

Sleepovers at Grandma’s house were a monthly occurrence.

Sunday dinners. Bike rides with mom and dad.

If I closed my eyes, I could imagine it right back up.

Then my parents had gone and gotten divorced, and that had all ground to a halt.

My family had been broken into two small units: me and my mom o r me and my dad.

I still got the cousin sleepovers, but they didn’t feel the same after that—almost like I was getting a chance to play house, but then I’d go back to my real life that looked nothing like a happy family.

Dad had gone and gotten remarried two years ago, and I still didn’t feel comfortable around my stepmother’s extensive family.

And now my mom was getting married this summer, and I didn’t imagine I would feel any different with Brian and his kids.

So, the idea of a family that so readily accepted outsiders was foreign to me… and, honestly, made me feel a squirmy bit of guilt inside at how closed off I had been to my own.

I must’ve taken too long to respond, because Gemma started to say something, but was cut off with a shout from one floor down.

“Mom! You coming? Mr. Harrison is here with the van.”

Mr. Harrison? Finn, with all of his teasing, pranks, and general childishness, did not seem to fit that name.

“Yes! Be there in a second!” Gemma hollered back, her voice more suited to a rugby player than the five-foot-nothing grandma in front of me. She turned to me, all soft smiles again. “Well, you heard her. Are you coming?”

I glanced back into my room, but I had everything I needed. So, I stepped out the door, closing it behind me.

“Perfect,” Gemma said, slipping her thin hand around my upper arm and using me as support without a word. I couldn’t help wondering how she’d gotten up the stairs to my room in the first place as she leaned her weight on me.

It was a little awkward, not knowing how to be the best help, so I just let her lead, my steps matching hers.

I kept beside her down two flights of stairs as she used me and the railing, then we went out the door together.

The famous toddler zipped between us, but Gemma just tightened her hand and didn’t even sway.

She watched the little guy who’d bowled into me at the airport chase his way down the stairs and into the back seat of the van with a fond smile that I couldn’t help matching.

I’d never seen someone who looked so happy to be nearly knocked to the ground by a two-year-old.

Is this how all large families were? None of my cousins had more than one or two siblings, and no one was married or had kids.

I kind of liked it.

The thought surprised me, and I was dreaming of my cousins having their own kids running around at our family gatherings as I met Finn’s eyes.

He had just come around the van, and the intensity when his eyes locked with mine sent an electric charge down my spine.

His lips tilted into an uneven grin, and I had to look away.

Luckily, I had the excuse of seeing Gemma to the car.

According to everyone in the school, Finn had been pretty cute back in the day. He had upgraded since then.

“Do you want the front seat?” I asked as we got close to the car. Finn was only a couple of feet from us, and I still felt his eyes on me.

“No, dear, I’d like to sit with my crazies.”

For someone who had leaned so heavily on me, she grabbed the side of the van and hoisted herself into it with surprising ease.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t seemed to need much help at the airport either, or when traipsing around the potato museum.

Was she okay? Maybe she had dizzy spells or something.

Finn was still watching me, so I slowly turned back to him as the rest of the Hastings piled into the van.

“Are you excited?” he asked, leaning against the hood of the van.

“Depends, do I get to see any potatoes today?”

“For you, I’m sure that can be arranged.” His smile was wide.

The last of the Hastings had made it to the van, and the back door closed beside me with finality.

I reached for the passenger-side door, but Finn beat me to it.

All I saw was his hand reaching out and grasping the handle, then he pulled it open slowly enough that I could step out of the way.

As I sl id in, I met his eyes with a raised brow.

Mostly to cover how my fingers were strangely shaky as I buckled my seatbelt.

He just saluted with those eyes that seemed perpetually smiling, then circled around to his seat.

He adjusted his rearview mirror and then glanced back at the group behind us.

“Everybody ready?” he asked.

A cheer rose up from the back, Gemma the loudest of all, and a smile cracked my face. Finn and I locked eyes, and I jolted my gaze forward, my face growing warm.

At a look. Just a look.

I didn’t exactly like how those smiling eyes were making me feel.

He had been a complete twerp to me in junior high, and while I wouldn’t usually hold that against an adult—after all, we’d all done dumb things as kids—it was proving a good squasher of my growing attraction.

I was here for work, not to be someone’s two-week fling.

And now my mind was galloping its way into a detailed daydream of a vacation fling. “Summer Lovin’” from Grease was even playing in the background.

My cousin Dani wrote books. Maybe I should give it a try to get some of these wild scenarios out of my head before they leaked their way down to my heart.

Finn cranked the radio and backed out of the driveway and onto the lane.

I couldn’t help the way that my eyes drifted over to his forearms, which were surprisingly muscled.

I had never thought of driving as a physical event, but with the way his arms flexed and moved as he turned the wheel, I was seeing it in a completely new light.

“Like the view?” Finn asked, not glancing up from the road, but his voice full of insinuation.

I plastered my heated gaze back out the window. I deserved that. “Yep,” I said, my voice higher than usual.

Finn’s low chuckle combined with the chatter in the back seats. I settled back into my seat, head turned away from the gun show that was Mr. Finn Harrison.

The view coming into Charlottetown was picturesque.

The tall spire of Saint Dunstan’s Basilica topped tree-lined streets, all backed by the blue water of the Atlantic.

Like the carbonation at the top of a shaken Coke bottle, a bubbling sensation filled my chest. I tried to tamp it down—it did no good to get over-excited for something that might not live up to expectation, but the idea of seeing even a handful of Anne-related things made that hard to do.

I was stepping into her world: the world that had helped raise me when my single mom had work, and I’d sat behind her check-out counter and read books. The soda bottle suddenly felt even more shaken up.