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Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. Chapter Forty-Three
  48. Chapter Forty-Four
  49. Chapter Forty-Five
  50. Chapter Forty-Six
  51. Chapter Forty-Seven
  52. Chapter Forty-Eight
  53. Chapter Forty-Nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Acknowledgments
  56. Discover More
  57. About the Author

A month ago, I’d left for Pleasant Hollow determined to write my career-making story, and I’d succeeded. Much remained unknown, like where I’d live in four months and if I’d ever see Finn again, but I would be a full-time journalist very soon. Whatever else happened, it was a great day.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Eight

We’ll get started in a few minutes. Does anyone need assistance setting up their bike?” I gave this spiel before all my classes. The majority of the people who took my Tuesday evening class were regulars, but I never ruled out newcomers or beginners who had no idea what they were doing but were too bashful to ask for help.

When no one answered, I double-checked that today’s playlist, a mix of popular and more eclectic music spanning five decades, was ready to go, and hopped on my bike. “Is anyone new to spinning?” I did a quick sweep of the studio and smiled at the mostly familiar faces. No one spoke up. Last question. “Is there anyone here who’s never taken one of my classes before?”

“I haven’t.”

I couldn’t see the source of the deep voice that came from the back row of the full studio. I stood up with one leg on either side of the bike. “Can whoever said that please wave your hand?” My eyes followed the line of the raised muscular arm down a few inches to his face. I gasped.

It was Finn.

My body trembled, and I dropped back into my seat and white-knuckled the handlebars for support. How had I not seen him come in?

“Welcome to my class. I hope you won’t regret it!” I looked down at my shaking thighs and joined in on the room’s laughter, although mine was less “ha ha, I’m so funny” and more of the nervous variety.

It had been two weeks and one day since my story went live. When I didn’t hear from Finn, I decided it was either because he’d read it but was already over me, or because he hadn’t read it but had come to no similar epiphany on his own about giving us another shot.

At least I’d opened the door. Rather than force things, I’d accepted it was over. The story was over. Pleasant Hollow was over. We were over. In time, I’d recall Finn as just another guy who wasn’t the one.

Except now he was here, and I had to wait at least forty-five minutes to find out what he wanted.