Chapter 41 Finn #2
“You sent Jacks to three different liquor stores.”
We’d moved inside from the patio, and our conversation shifted to the much safer territory of the bar.
“At the same time!” Jacks added. “I was like, how am I supposed to be in three places at once? I’m fast, but I’m not that fast.”
“You figured it out,” I said.
Jacks surprised me by going on the offensive. “But you were panicking, and that was adorable. You get this little wrinkle right here”—he pointed at my forehead—“when you’re stressed, and your accent gets stronger.”
“My accent does not get stronger,” I said, and clover flew out of my mouth.
“See! Right there. You did it again,” Mark said. “When you’re tired or stressed or emotional, you sound like you just got off the boat from Dublin.”
“Or stepped out of a pub,” Priya said.
“Or a hobbit hole.” Benji smirked.
“A hobbit? I . . . I don’t—”
“Yeah, you do,” Mark confirmed.
I looked at Chase, desperate for support and feeling very self-conscious. “Do I do that?”
He had this soft expression on his face—fond and amused and something else I couldn’t quite name.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted.
“Traitor,” I said, reaching down to shove his leg.
“But it’s cute,” Jacks said.
“It is very cute,” Priya said. “And Chase thinks so, too. Look at his face.”
Chase was blushing, and something about seeing him flustered made me squirm in my seat.
“Oh my God,” Benji said. “Look at them. They’re so smitten.”
“We’re not smitten,” Chase and I said at the same time.
Which only made everyone laugh harder.
“Smitten or not, you are adorable,” Priya said. “Both of you. It is kind of gross how adorable you are.”
“I think it’s nice,” Jacks said. “They’re happy. Happy is good. Everyone should be happy like that.”
“Jacks is a secret romantic,” Benji stage-whispered.
“I’m not secret about it. I just think—” Jacks paused, his brow furrowing. “People should have what you two have, the ‘looking at each other’ thing and the ‘defending each other’ thing and the just, I don’t know, ‘being happy to be in the same space’ thing. That’s good. It’s what everyone wants.”
Silence fell, comfortable and warm. Priya stared at Jacks, her gaze assessing, yet also approving. I knew that look far too well.
Mark raised his beer. “To Finn and Chase, and whatever this is.”
“To Finn and Chase,” everyone echoed.
And when I looked at Chase from across the table, he was looking back at me with so much affection in his eyes that I almost forgot how to breathe.
The gang started leaving around three. The bar opened at four, and we still had setup ahead.
Mark went first. Then Jacks, who had an opening shift at the bar. Benji and Priya, now joined at the hip, prepared to leave as they arrived together. Benji hugged both of us, giving us sloppy kisses on each cheek like some drunk European.
Priya pulled me aside.
“I approve,” she said. “Chase is a good man. Do not screw this up, Finnigan O’Hara.”
“O’Brien,” I corrected.
“It was a Gone with the Wind reference, thank you very much.” She scowled. “Just lock that man down. Good ones are rare.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I am serious, Finn. That man is in love with you. I can see it all over his face. If you feel the same way—which I think you do—don’t let fear or doubt get in the way.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“Are you talking back to me? To me?” Her brow shot up so fast it could’ve injured someone.
“I know you, Finn, better than most, and I am a doctor. It is my job to see what people refuse to tell me. You are terrified. It is plain as day.” She squeezed my arm.
“But I believe he is worth the risk. Trust me.”
Then they were gone, and it was just Chase and me standing in the suddenly quiet house.
The backyard was a disaster, but the kitchen was worse. Dirty plates and cups lay scattered everywhere, empty beer bottles stood like soldiers across the coffee table and kitchen island, and half-eaten platters of burgers and fries needed to be put away.
“Well,” I said, looking around. “That was—”
“Great,” Chase said. “It was great. Your friends are amazing.”
“They like you.”
“You think?”
I laughed. “Chase, seriously? I think Priya wants to date you now. And Jacks was sizing up the place for curtains.” I started gathering plates. “Believe me, you’re in with the gang. Each of them told me so . . . multiple times . . . very emphatically.”
“That’s good,” he said as his hand found its way into his tangled mess of hair. The windy backyard had done a number on all of us, but Chase most of all. “You need to get to the bar, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I have time to help you clean up. We won’t get busy for a few hours.”
We worked in silence, moving around each other in the kitchen with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible after only a few months.
But somehow it was.
Somehow everything with Chase felt easy.
And natural.
And right.
I was at the sink rinsing a plate when Chase came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest.
“Hey, you,” he said.
“Hi, yourself.” I let my head fall back onto his shoulder.
“Thank you for today, for bringing them here and letting me get to know them.”
I turned in his arms to face him. “Thank you for not running away screaming when Benji asked about your sexual history.”
“He was rather thorough.”
“He was Benji.”
“He was protecting you. They all were.” Chase’s expression was soft. “I love that you have that, that you have people who care about you that much.”
“You have Diego. He cares about you.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s different. You have a whole family.” He smiled. “And I’m part of it now.”
“Apparently. Happy adoption day.” I reached up and cupped his face. “Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay.”
He kissed me then—soft and sweet and full of something that felt bigger than both of us.
When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Finn,” he said quietly. “We should talk.”
My stomach dropped.
Those words.
Those terrifying words that always preceded bad news.
People didn’t say that before telling you good things. They said it before breaking up with you or telling you they were moving or—
“Chase—”
He must have read the panic in my eyes because his own went wide.
“No, wait, it’s not—” He pulled back, his hands coming up to swallow my face. “It’s not bad. I promise it’s not bad.”
“Then what—”
“I think I’m in love with you.”