Chapter 41 Finn
Finn
Through the sliding glass door, I could see all the way to where Chase was opening the front door. Even from where I stood, I could tell he was still nervous. His shoulders looked tight and his smile a little forced.
Then Jacks lumbered in. I had to stifle a laugh at the sight of Chase gaping as our beefy barback rambled on, something about beer and wine, while Chase tried to get a word in edge-wise.
“Beer’s perfect,” Chase managed.
I watched them disappear toward the kitchen and, a minute later, emerge into the backyard. Jacks was still talking. Chase looked overwhelmed but also amused. Mark was eating up every moment.
“Jacks,” I called out. “You made it.”
“Yeah, boss. Wouldn’t miss it.” Jacks’s nervousness seemed to evaporate the moment he saw me.
He crossed the yard and gave me a quick hug, nearly lifting me off my feet.
It was the kind of casual, easy affection we’d grown used to over the past few months.
“Chase has a nice place. It screams adult; kinda makes me feel like I need to step up my game.”
“I’m sure your place is fine,” I said.
“My place has pizza boxes on the floor and a couch that’s older than I am.”
“Okay, maybe your place needs work.” I grinned. “But we like you anyway.”
Jacks started helping without being asked—setting out plates, organizing condiments, just naturally making himself useful. I watched him and Chase work around each other in the kitchen, Jacks filling the silence with his rambling thoughts and Chase responding with a patient, amused expression.
“So, Chase,” Jacks said while arranging cups.
“You come to the bar like all the time now. That’s cool .
. . that you’re supportive and stuff. Of the bar, I mean.
And Finn. Supportive of Finn. Which is good because—” He paused, seeming to realize he was rambling.
“What I’m trying to say is it’s nice. That you show up.
A lot of people wouldn’t do that, you know?
You just sit in a booth for hours while your .
. . while Finn works. So. Yeah. That’s cool of you. ”
I felt my chest tighten.
Jacks meant every word—he always did.
“I like being there,” Chase said.
“Still. It’s cool.” Jacks grabbed the beer he’d brought. “Want one? Or are you more of a wine guy? You look like you might be a wine guy. No offense.”
“Beer’s great.”
I turned back to the grill, smiling to myself. This was going better than I’d hoped, though my rational brain knew the real storm had yet to arrive.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang again, and I heard Benji’s voice echo through the house before I even saw him.
“The hot lawyer! And he’s even hotter in person without the stress of bar lighting. Priya, look at him. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course Benji would start with that.
“I see him,” Priya’s dry voice replied. “Hello, Chase. Thank you for having us.”
I abandoned the grill and headed inside to find Benji already in the kitchen, setting down four bottles of wine with dramatic flair.
“I brought wine, four different bottles because I didn’t know what you’d want. I got red and white and rosé and this one that’s sparkling because bubbles make everything better, like me.”
Jacks snickered. “Like you. Right.”
Benji shoved Jacks playfully. The mountain barely budged.
“Where should I chill these?” Benji asked, motioning to the three non-red bottles like Vanna revealing letters on Wheel of Fortune.
“Fridge is fine,” Chase said, looking shell-shocked.
Benji swept past him and started rearranging the carefully organized fridge to make room for the wine.
Priya caught my eye and smiled. “Your boyfriend looks terrified.”
“He’s not my—” I stopped. Was he my boyfriend?
We’d still yet to define whatever we were.
Hell, we hadn’t even told each other how we felt.
I knew Chase was into me. No one could fake the way he looked into my eyes.
Still, it would be nice to have a bit of confirmation, some label to wear for all to see.
“He’s just nervous. You’re all terrifying. ”
“We are delightful.” She moved past me toward the backyard. “Come on. It should be fun to see how long it takes Benji to make him crack.”
The afternoon unfolded both as I’d feared and hoped. My friends descended on Chase like a pack of well-meaning but starving wolves.
Benji asked about everything. His childhood, family, coming out story, favorite movies, even whether he preferred cats or dogs (Chase said dogs, which was the right answer based on Benji’s enthusiastic response).
Benji asked if Chase had ever cheated on anyone, if he’d ever broken someone’s heart, and if he believed in soulmates.
“Jesus, Benji,” I said at one point. “Let the poor guy eat. This isn’t a trial.”
“It absolutely is,” Benji replied, undaunted. “We’re vetting him. This is important.”
“I don’t need you to vet him—”
“Oh, Finn. Yes, you do. You’re terrible at self-preservation. Remember the guy you dated for three months before realizing he was also married to two different women? He had two whole families and you as a gay side dish. You were the okra to his steak and chicken.”
“Okra!” Jacks howled.
I grimaced at the memory. “That was one time—”
“Exactly. One time more than anyone else I know, at least in dating serial marriers. So we’re here to make sure Chase isn’t secretly terrible.” Benji turned back to Chase. “You’re not secretly terrible, are you?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Chase said, and I couldn’t tell if he was amused or exhausted. “Unless it’s a secret to me, too.”
That earned a laugh from the group.
Priya, bless her, was more subtle but no less thorough. She asked about Chase’s work-life balance, his stress management, and what he did for fun. She then dove into his partnership track and asked whether he planned to stick with it or if it was temporary.
“Because Finn needs someone who can be present,” she said. “Not someone who works eighty-hour weeks and shows up exhausted and emotionally unavailable.”
“Priya—” I started.
“No, it’s okay,” Chase said, reaching over and rubbing my leg.
Priya’s eyes tracked his every movement, a ghost of a smile teasing her lips when his hand didn’t lift from my leg.
“She’s right. I used to work those hours, but I don’t anymore.
I made changes because I wanted a life outside of work.
Because I wanted—” He glanced at me. “Because I wanted to be able to do this, have days like this.”
Priya studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Good answer.”
Then Mark detailed what he thought about Barbacks as a business model.
“It’s smart,” Chase said. “You’re niche marketing to a specific community and building a brand around authenticity and inclusivity. The Instagram presence helps, but the real draw is the atmosphere you all have created. People come back because they feel welcome.”
Mark looked pleased. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“Of course I have. It’s important to Finn, so it’s important to me.”
I felt my face flush.
He said things like that so casually, like it was obvious, like there was no question that what mattered to me would matter to him.
Jacks—sweet, earnest Jacks—mostly just asked if Chase was happy, if I made him happy and if Chase was good to me.
“Because he’s our people,” Jacks said, beer in hand, looking uncharacteristically serious, which came across more like he was trying to pass a turd but in the most adorable way possible.
“And we take care of our people. So, if you’re gonna be part of that—and I think you are or you will be or whatever—then we need to know you’re good for him, that you make him happy and treat him right and all that. ”
Chase stared at Jacks for a few heartbeats, his gaze softening in a way I’d come to understand meant genuine affection for our resident puppy. “I try,” he said. “He makes it easy.”
“Good. Because if you didn’t, I’d have to—” Jacks paused, thinking. “I don’t know what I’d do, talk to you sternly. I’m not very threatening, but I’d try to be . . . for him . . . you know?”
I had to turn away to hide my smile.
Through it all, I kept catching Chase’s eye, checking on him, making sure he wasn’t drowning. Every time, he’d give me this small smile—this “I’m okay, I’ve got this” smile—and my own tension would ease.
At one point, Benji asked if Chase had ever been in love before, and Chase fumbled the answer badly enough that I jumped in.
“Benji, easy. Give the poor guy a break,” I said.
“I’m just asking questions!”
“Good questions,” Priya said.
“They’re invasive questions.”
“Same thing.” He slumped into his chair, pouting.
But Chase waved me off. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.
” He looked at Benji. “No, I haven’t been in love before, not really.
I thought I was, once, when I was in law school, but looking back, it was more .
. . finding comfort with someone than anything else, if that makes sense.
Law school was tough and stressful. It felt good to have someone who understood.
” He stopped, and I watched something shift in his expression.
“But this thing with Finn . . . this is different. Everything about it feels different.”
The entire backyard went quiet, only the crickets and roaming roosters offering their opinions on our conversation.
I stared at Chase, my heart struggling to find a steady rhythm.
This is different.
What did that mean? Different how? Different because he cared more? Or different because—
“Well,” Benji said, breaking the silence. “That was romantic as hell. Points to the lawyer.”
“Seriously,” Priya added. “That was beautiful.”
“Nah,” Chase protested, his face flushing. “It was just—true.”
“Even better,” Mark said, raising his beer. “To truth.”
“To truth!” everyone echoed, and the moment passed.
But I couldn’t stop staring at Chase, couldn’t stop replaying his words and searching for meaning hidden within them.
This is different.