Chapter Fifteen
Finn
Finn hadn’t meant to take Maurice’s hand. It just happened—as Maurice’s hand skimmed against his, something in Finn jumped—small, sharp, impossible to play off. And when Finn took his hand, Maurice didn’t pull away. He looked down at their joined hands as if he couldn’t believe it either.
“I want to have a conversation with you alone,” Maurice said, but his eyes… yeah, those gave him away. A little too warm. A little too hungry.
“But where?” Finn asked.
“Your room or mine?”
“Your room.” Finn’s room was a mess. The scent of cedar wood and a high-end laundry detergent clung to Maurice’s room. Simple choice.
They started down the narrow hall, brushing shoulders, Finn trying not to grin like an idiot. Maurice kept glancing at him with his quick little side looks, like he was checking to make sure Finn was still there. Still choosing him. Maurice’s looks traveled all the way down his spine.
Then a voice cut through the hallway.
“Finn!”
Finn turned, already knowing who it was.
Mr. Santos paced toward them with a purposeful, businesslike stride. “Sorry to interrupt you two,” he said, slightly out of breath, “but I need to discuss something privately with Finn.”
Maurice’s jaw tightened, but it was the way his fingers curled a little too hard around his before he let go that gave him away.
His shoulders pulled in, as if he were bracing for something he didn’t want to hear.
Finn had seen that look before when he’d talked to Caleb, and it hit the same quiet note of don’t go yet.
“Let me add my phone number to your phone so you can call me when you’re done,” Maurice said.
Finn handed his phone over, watching those long fingers move across the screen—quick, precise, a little tense. Then Maurice passed his own phone to Finn.
“Add your number to mine, please.”
Finn typed slowly, each tap feeling weirdly important, a knot tightening low in his stomach at how intimate the moment suddenly was. Like they’d stepped over some invisible line without even talking about it.
When they traded phones back, Maurice leaned in, minted breath brushing Finn’s ear. “Don’t be too long.”
Finn swallowed. “I won’t.”
Maurice walked away, glancing back once. Finn caught the look—the one that said, ‘I want you with me, not with him.’
A weird drop rolled through his chest, as if his body had gotten news his brain hadn’t processed yet.
Mr. Santos cleared his throat, the way he did when he was about to drop something unexpected. “Would you be willing to move into Theo’s room and be roommates?”
Finn blinked. A roommate? Now? He wasn’t against it since he liked Theo, actually liked him a lot, but the question still landed sideways. “Why?” he asked, mostly to buy a second to catch up.
“Theo’s current roommate had an argument with him and asked to be moved. Theo asked me if you could be his roommate. Of course, we’ll refund part of your money for a single.”
“Oh.” Finn’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t seen this coming.
He’d been fine in his own room, and he didn’t exactly crave company, but Theo was good people.
And Theo had a crush on Maurice’s best friend, which made him feel safe in a way without any weird tension, no mixed signals. Just… a friend. Something he could use.
Still, a tiny thought nudged him: would having a roommate make things weird with Maurice? Would it cut into the little moments they barely had?
“I don’t mind sharing a room with Theo at all,” Finn said, and he meant it. He just hoped it didn’t complicate the one thing on this train he actually wanted.
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Mr. Santos’s smile spread, all approval and relief, as if Finn had just solved a problem. “
“What room is he in?”
“Room 120. Next car from yours.”
“Is the key in his room?”
“Yes with him. And thank you, Finn.” Then Mr. Santos gave him a knowing look. “How is it going with Maurice?”
Finn shrugged, trying not to let the smile creeping up his face actually win. “I don’t know. We were going to talk until you stopped me.”
Mr. Santos nodded as if he already knew exactly how that conversation would’ve gone.
Once Finn was back in his room, the high from being with Maurice still buzzed under his skin, but now he had to switch gears and pack.
It wasn’t hard as he didn’t own much, and he’d never fully unpacked anyway, but stuffing everything into his suitcase felt weirdly fast, like he was cleaning up the scene of a moment he wasn’t done thinking about.
As he zipped the bag, his mind kept drifting back to Maurice’s look, the warmth of him, the way Finn had almost stayed. Moving rooms shouldn’t have mattered, but he couldn’t help wondering if this would make it harder to sneak in those small moments with him.
He dragged his suitcase down the narrow hall between cars, the wheels thumping over the metal plates. The walk gave him too much time to think about Maurice, about how close they’d been, and about how badly he wanted that conversation back.
By the time he reached the next car, he’d talked himself into being fine. Probably. Mostly. He knocked on Theo’s door.
Theo opened it with red eyes, as if he’d either cried or was one sneeze away from it.
“Hey,” Theo said. “Come in.”
Finn stepped inside and set his suitcase down. The room was neat, except for a pile of tissues in the trash and a half-eaten cookie on the nightstand.
“Are you okay?” Finn hugged Theo.
“My roommate was a royal jerk.” He sat on his bed.
Finn sat beside him. “So… what happened with him? The argument?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “He said David was flirting with him. Which he wasn’t. David was just being David—polite, charming, lawyer-y. And then he accused me of trying to steal his man.”
Finn blinked. “Wait. David? Maurice’s best friend?”
“Yeah. We’ve been together a lot even had a few meals together.” Theo shrugged. “I like guys who look like they read poetry in bed.”
Finn snorted. “David looks the type that probably does.”
Theo pointed at him. “Exactly.”
They both laughed.
“I found who I want,” Theo said.
“Me too.”
Then Theo’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Speaking of hot men… what’s going on with you and Maurice?”
Finn’s face warmed. “We’re… talking later.”
Theo wiggled his eyebrows. “Talking. Sure.”
Finn threw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”
Theo hugged the pillow dramatically. “I’m just saying—he looked like he wanted to eat you alive at the Meet-a-Daddy Party.”
Finn’s stomach fluttered. “He did?”
“Oh yeah. He had that ‘don’t steal my boy’ look.”
Finn tried not to smile too hard. “We’ll see.”
Theo grinned. “I hope it works out. You two look good together.”
Finn let himself imagine Maurice’s hand in his again, that warm look in his eyes, and the conversation they were supposed to have.
Yeah. He hoped so, too.
“Wouldn’t it be great if all four of us had a double date?” Theo asked.
“Yes. But we both don’t live in Virginia.”
Theo grabbed his jacket, looking lighter than he had earlier.
“I’m going to meet David for the afternoon,” Theo said.
“Nice. I’m supposed to call Maurice,” Finn answered as if everything was normal, even though his stomach had been quietly staging protests since breakfast.
“The key is on the dresser,” Theo said, nodding toward it. “I hope we see each other at the dance or… later.”
“Oh, we will. Have fun with David.”
“And you better have fun with Maurice,” Theo shot back with a grin.