Taylor’s face flushes as she remembers how effortless it was to kiss Vanessa. She didn’t have to pull back to keep from getting too much tongue, and Vanessa did this sexy, teasing thing against Taylor’s upper lip that made her kind of dizzy. “It was . . . Okay, so this might not make any sense at all, but it was kind of like kissing myself.”

Willa’s eyebrows pull together. “What?”

“With Brady, I sort of had to teach him what to do, but Vanessa just seemed to know exactly what I liked,” Taylor says. “Maybe it’s because we’re both girls—”

“Maybe it’s because Brady Guerra kisses like a golden retriever.”

“Wait.” Taylor’s eyebrows come together in confusion. “How do you know?”

“Eighth grade. Your birthday party. In your mom’s closet,” Willa says. “Seven minutes of . . . well, heaven isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“He got a little better.”

“How much better?”

Taylor laughs. “Probably not much.”

“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Willa laughs as she props her chin on her knees. “I’m just curious. I mean, why Finley? Why not me?”

“Have you even seen yourself? You’re way too short.”

“Hey!” Willa smacks Taylor with a throw cushion, sending the cat scampering. “I am adorable.”

“You are,” Taylor agrees. “But I have never wanted to kiss you.”

Willa sniffs. “Whatever. It’s your loss, really.”

Taylor laughs, but in the quiet moment that follows, she tries to find the right words to answer the real question. Why Finley? Why not someone else? “From the very first day, Finley made me feel safe and special . . . and loved.”

Willa nods. “Yeah. It was impossible not to love her back.”

Pumpkin creeps back into the v-berth. Taylor rests her chin on her knees, mirroring Willa. “Why did you decide to withdraw from Case?”

“I thought studying business was the smart thing to do,” Willa says. “I’d get a good job, make a lot of money, and would never have to worry about paying the electric bill. But now . . . I guess this trip made me realize that’s not what I want. I mean, I’d rather not be poor, but I want to see the world. Live in it. And . . . I want to write about it.”

“So, are you really going to finish the loop alone?”

Willa nods. “My plan is to spend the winter in Florida and get a job. I could wait tables, or there’s a pirate ship in Fort Myers. Maybe I can be a deckhand.”

“You’d probably get hired in a hot minute,” Taylor says. “And you’d make a great pirate.”

“You think?”

“I mean, you’re a little short, but—” Willa smacks her again with the pillow. “I figured you’d go back to North Carolina to spend the winter with Wyatt.”