Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

LOU

My head tilts to the side like it always does whenever I have to think about something really hard. Finn looks... well, tired and hungover of course, but that doesn’t mean he lost the Italian god status overnight.

Not even when he had his eyes half closed and his breath reeked of booze did he seem unattractive to me.

I’m still reeling from the way my hand tingled when he slid his soft palm perfectly into place against it, so of course I do have to give some mental power to his request. Much more than I normally would if a man this perfect looking asked me to have any kind of meal with him.

But that’s never really happened to me before.

I’m totally a fish out of water in this situation.

I feel fine now, about everything that happened last night. It was an honest, drunken mistake for him to bang on my door, and I accept that as fact. I have no reason to doubt him. But still, the way he looks, the way he didn’t look bothered or disgusted after my eyes got away from me and I trailed them down his perfect body, they way he actually looked curious, it’s all fucking with my brain.

I look down at my phone.

If I do pay the three hundred dollars for my flight change—that the company would pay for me, thankfully—then I wouldn’t have time to go to brunch with Finn. I wouldn’t have time to satisfy this burning curiosity about him.

I’d have to pack my things in the next hour, check out of the hotel, and get a cab to the airport.

He must pick up on my doubts, because he inexplicably starts to try to convince me.

“I’m here with my brother, Beau.” Ah, he wasn’t looking for his beau, but for Beau. That lifts a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t realized was there. “We came here to see our other brother, Charlie. We’re going to spend the weekend here without much fanfare, and there’s no way we’re going out to party again. I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to see much of Vegas since you’re here for a conference, but we’re going to a show tonight and to a hockey game tomorrow. I know for a fact I can get one extra ticket for both, so if you do decide to stay, I can more than make up for my horrible behavior last night.

“And actually, Beau and I are scheduled to fly back on Monday too. Maybe it’s even the same flight, so we could...” He trails off, sucking both his lips into his mouth.

“What?” I ask, with a desperation I haven’t felt in a very long time. Finn looks down and stuffs his hands into his pockets, then raises his shoulders up to his ears.

“If we have a good time here this weekend, maybe we could hang out back home?” There’s a squeak at the end of the last word and it’s so impossibly adorable that I can’t speak for a very long moment. “You know what? It’s okay, I’ll take you to brunch and—” He starts to backtrack but I stop him.

“I just...” I start, but then have to take a moment to question if I really am about to say all I want to say to a practical stranger. I decide that yes, I am going to say this to him. Because he looks so earnest, and he’s been kind, and he almost maybe asked me out. “I thought Valentine’s Day would be less depressing this year if I came to this work thing, but it wasn’t. It was actually somehow worse.”

“Because feeling alone while being surrounded by a bunch of people is obviously worse,” he says quickly like he’s reciting a law or something. Then he covers his mouth and looks at me with wide, scared eyes.

“Yes, how did you know?” I demand with narrowed eyes. Can he read minds or something? No, that’s ridiculous.

“I, uh.” He lowers his hand and looks down at the carpet. “I’ve felt that way before. Not last night, since I was pretty distracted by my brothers.”

I don’t push away the sharp sting of pain on my ribcage when he speaks about his brothers with so much love in every word, at least not right away. I accept that I miss that, that I yearn for that familiar love, and I’m old enough now not to hate myself for it.

“Instead, yesterday I got super drunk, and I actually did have a good time before the whole...” He waves a hand in the direction of the bathroom. “Again, I promise that’s not something I do often, and I’m very, very sorry. I really thought I had the right room. I don’t know why all the numbers got switched up for me. I’m a damn accountant, that never happens to me.”

I don’t know why it happened either, but I’m starting to be glad that he banged on my door in the middle of the night. How weird is that?

“Anyway, if you’d reconsider changing your flight, I’d love to have brunch with you. And I mean it about the show and the game. Charlie will absolutely get us more tickets.”

I scowl at that, a confused scowl. What the hell does his brother do to be able to get last-minute tickets?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” He speaks quickly again. “You’re probably already sick of me and want me to just go away. I get it, I?—”

“Okay,” I agree, before he can take even one step away from me.

“Okay?” he asks softly. “You’ll stay?” Is that...? Yes, I see hope in his eyes, there’s no mistaking it.

“Yes,” I confirm with a nod. “I want a shower,” I tell him. “And to put on normal clothes. But I can meet you in the hallway or downstairs. Maybe in one of the restaurants?” I ask, already feeling lost.

God, why did I say I’d stay? I’m already fucking this up.

Because I want to get to know him. The truth comes quickly to mind and I can’t deny that I do. I do want to get to know him, and maybe when we’re back in Chicago... maybe more? I don’t like the role reversal now, though, how I said so much and rambled a bit.

I pride myself in controlling what words come out of my mouth and which ones I swallow back. I’ve gotten better over the years. But the eagerness gives away everything I’m feeling.

I guess Finn doesn’t mind, though, because he smiles at me so tenderly that I involuntarily let out a sigh. He takes his phone out of his pants but looks at me again.

“I have no battery. What time is it?”

“Oh.” I spring into action and grab my phone. Without an ounce of trepidation—which honestly there should be at least some —I close the airline app and tell him the time. “It’s late already, eleven thirty.”

“Perfect, how about half an hour?” he asks, already walking backwards. “We’ll meet by the elevators at noon, okay?”

“Yes,” I confirm again , and nod a few more times for good measure, because of course I do. Then I clamp my lips shut and will myself not to say another single word.

He smiles widely and brilliantly at me.

“We’ll find a place to get brunch and then see where the day takes us?”

I don’t know why he asks, but maybe— God could it be ? Maybe he’s as eager as me.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“It’s a date,” he says with a somehow even wider smile. Then he walks out while I gawk at him.

A date?