Chapter Sixteen
Finn
When Theo left, Finn stood up at the edge of the bed for a second, thumb hovering over his phone. He didn’t want to look like he was overeager, but he also wanted Maurice thinking he’d remembered him.
He typed:
Finn: I’m free now if you still want to meet.
The reply came fast, almost too fast for Maurice to have thought twice about it.
Maurice: Come to my room. Door’s unlocked.
Finn’s pulse kicked up. He grabbed the key from the dresser, smoothed his shirt, and headed down the narrow hallway. A couple of guys brushed past him, laughing loudly, but all he could think about was Maurice waiting behind that door.
When he stepped inside, Maurice was leaning against the desk, arms crossed, looking like he’d been pacing before Finn arrived. His stern look gave way to a tender one in an instant.
“Hey,” Maurice said. “Glad you could come.”
“Of course,” Finn said, shutting the door behind him. “I wanted to.”
Maurice’s eyes flicked over him—quick, appreciative, a little hungry—as the heat crawled up Finn’s neck. They stood there for a moment, the air between them charged, until Maurice exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I like you, Finn,” he said. “A lot. I’m not great at pretending otherwise.”
Finn’s chest tightened in the best way. “I like you too.”
Maurice smiled. “Good. Because I want us to spend time together. Alone time. Real time.”
Finn stepped closer. “I want that too.”
Maurice reached out, brushing Finn’s wrist with his fingers—light, deliberate. “But listen… I also want you to have the total experience here. Meet people. Talk. Dance. Don’t just stick to me just because I’m older or because I noticed you first.”
Finn frowned. “I’m not sticking to you for those reasons.”
“I know.” Maurice’s thumb brushed the seam of his pocket as if he needed something to hold onto. “I just… I don’t want you stuck. You deserve the full week. And I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Finn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “So… we like each other, we want time together, but we still have to mingle.”
Maurice laughed, more an exhale than a sound. “Yeah. Torture for both of us.”
Finn grinned. “I can handle that if you can.”
Maurice stepped closer, slow, as if he was checking Finn wouldn’t pull back. The warmth coming off him hit Finn before anything else did. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m planning on stealing you after the dance.”
Finn grinned. “I’ll let you.”
Maurice’s eyes grazed over his face, searching. “What did Mr. Santos want?”
“He asked me to move into Theo’s room.”
Maurice’s brows pulled together. “Why would he ask you to do that?”
“Theo and his roommate didn’t get along. I don’t mind. He’s really a great guy.”
“He is.” Maurice paused. “I know David thinks so.”
Finn nudged him with his shoulder. “Are you going to tell me what I left behind in here?”
Maurice’s gaze dropped for a second, as if he were deciding how honest to be. “An unfinished evening with me last night.”
Finn’s breath caught. “I didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t ask me to stay.”
“I wanted you to stay. I just… pushing you too soon felt like the wrong move.”
Finn stepped in, close enough that their arms brushed. “Just ask next time and see what I want.”
Maurice nodded. “Would you like to leave the train to go out for dinner tonight with me?”
“Really?” Finn had no idea the train stopped long enough for them to have dinner outside of the train. “I’d love to.”
“We each need to get a token so we can return. It’s in the brochure in small print. We’ll be stopping in Chicago at six and need to return by eight, then at nine there’s the dance.”
“Oh, I guess I missed that.”
“What’s your answer, Mr. Andersen?” Maurice dipped his head, letting his forehead rest against Finn’s for a moment.
“Yes, Mr. Dubois.” Touching foreheads with Maurice sent chills down his body. So intimate. Finn barely had time to breathe before Maurice leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. It was soft, warm, and so unexpectedly tender Finn’s chest fluttered.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Maurice asked.
“Yes,” Finn whispered, because his voice didn’t seem capable of anything louder.
Maurice stood, moving with that calm, deliberate confidence Finn kept pretending didn’t affect him.
The small lamp on the dresser cast a warm amber glow across the room, catching the perfectly folded suit jacket draped over a chair.
Everything in Maurice’s room looked intentional, orderly, and grown-up.
Finn felt like he’d stepped into someone’s real life, not just a train cabin.
Maurice poured wine into two glasses—actual glasses, not plastic cups—and Finn’s brain snagged on that detail. Of course, Maurice had real glassware. Of course he did.
He handed Finn a glass and sat beside him on the bed. The mattress dipped under Maurice’s weight, and Finn’s pulse jumped at the closeness. The sheets smelled like cedar and something clean—Maurice’s cologne, probably. Finn tried not to inhale too obviously.
“You never told me what you do,” Finn said, mostly to distract himself from staring at Maurice’s mouth.
“I’m a criminal defense attorney in Charlottesville and the founder of Dubois & Associates, a growing firm with several attorneys under my leadership.”
Finn blinked. “That’s impressive.”
And it was. Too impressive. Immediately, that familiar pinch of unworthiness crept in like he’d somehow tricked his way into being here, into being wanted by someone who had his life so together. Finn took a sip of wine to hide the feeling, but it sat heavy in his chest anyway.
“I worked hard without any support from my family,” Maurice added.
Finn’s heart tugged. “My family was very supportive of me. Maybe too much. They had a difficult time letting me grow up.”
Maurice turned slightly toward him, knee brushing Finn’s. “At least you knew they loved who you are and you didn’t have to hide your true self.”
Finn swallowed. He always forgot how easily Maurice could cut straight to the truth. “They’re heart surgeons educated in Denmark.”
“Like Jacob.”
“Yes, he’s worked with them.” Finn felt a tiny twist in his stomach at Jacob’s name—not guilt, exactly, but something close.
“I’m glad you had good parents,” Maurice said.
Finn smiled. “Their only fault is they’re way overprotective and involved in every breath I take. It was difficult for them to leave me here.”
“When did they return to Denmark?”
“Not long ago.”
“Do you miss them?”
“I do,” Finn admitted. “But it’s time for me to direct my journey without their constant input.”
Maurice’s expression softened in a way that made Finn’s ribs feel too tight. “I admire you for taking control of your life and doing what feels right.”
Finn looked down at his wine, cheeks warming. He wasn’t used to being admired. Not like that. Not by someone who made the whole room feel smaller just by sitting close. And God, he liked the way it felt.