Chapter 7 #3
“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft. “For being here today. For helping with all of this.” He gestured vaguely toward the front of the store. “It means a lot.”
The simple gratitude, so earnest and unguarded, made something in Finn’s chest ache. “You don’t have to thank me every time we see one another.”
“I know. But I want to.” Ollie’s eyes met his, warm and sincere. “I couldn’t do this without you. The project, I mean. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be able to open the store back up so quickly.”
The slight hesitation, the careful qualification—Finn wondered if Ollie was also dancing around the growing attraction between them, this unnamed current that pulled them together despite all the reasons to keep their distance.
“The store’s important to me too,” Finn said carefully. “And so are you.”
The admission hung between them, not quite a declaration but more than casual friendship. Ollie’s eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping up his neck.
“Oh,” he breathed, the single syllable carrying a weight of recognition. “That’s good. Really good.”
Finn swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how small the office felt with Ollie standing just an arm’s length away.
His gaze dropped to Ollie’s lips, slightly parted and curved in a tentative smile.
The urge to close that final distance between them crashed over him like a wave, powerful and nearly irresistible.
His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, to touch. To confirm this wasn’t just in his head.
“Finn?” Ollie’s voice had dropped to a whisper, his eyes darkening as they tracked Finn’s expression.
Finn took a half-step forward before catching himself. The renovation plans spread across the desk, the sounds of volunteers chatting in the main room, the mountain of responsibilities waiting for him outside this moment—they all rushed back into his awareness.
“We should probably…” Finn gestured vaguely toward the door, even as everything in him screamed to stay, to find out what would happen if he gave in just this once.
Ollie nodded, though disappointment flickered briefly across his features. “Yeah. They’re probably wondering where we disappeared to.”
They stood there, the air between them charged with possibility, neither quite brave enough to bridge the final gap. Then voices from the main room called Ollie’s name, breaking the spell.
“I’ll be right there,” Ollie called back, his eyes never leaving Finn’s face. He lingered a moment longer, as if memorizing something, before reluctantly turning toward the door.
Finn released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his heart hammering against his ribs. Not yet, he told himself. Not with so much at stake. But the “yet” echoed in his mind, a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep much longer.
He felt more seen—and more exposed—than he had in years. The careful walls he’d built around his life were developing cracks, letting in light but also vulnerability. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.
When he finally returned to the main room, people were starting to gather their things to leave. Ollie stood near the door, thanking everyone for coming, his smile bright despite the exhaustion evident in the shadows under his eyes.
Finn watched him from across the room, struck by how easily Ollie had become the center of his thoughts, how naturally they’d fallen into step with each other despite their differences.
It felt like standing at the edge of something vast and unknown—terrifying, yes, but also filled with possibility.
As if sensing his attention, Ollie looked up, their eyes meeting across the crowded room. His smile softened, became something private and warm, meant just for Finn.
And in that moment, despite all the complications—Brooklyn’s struggles, his secret identity, the bookstore’s uncertain future—Finn allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was room in his life for something more than just surviving.
All traces of Finn’s good mood evaporated when he opened the front door of the house and found Brooklyn sprawled on the couch watching one of the TV shows she’d recently gotten into.
He watched her for a moment, trying to find any signs that she might be struggling.
It embarrassed him to be approached by one of her teachers, who was also a friend, and told that he had concerns.
There had to be something Finn was missing.
“Oh, hey, Dad,” Brooklyn called out. She didn’t bother pausing her show.
Finn sighed heavily, hating that he had to ruin her good mood.
As soon as he confronted her about the missing assignments, she’d close right up.
Still, he couldn’t put off the conversation.
He rounded the couch and took a seat in the club chair next to Brooklyn.
“Hey, is there anything going on at school you want to tell me about?”
“No, why?” Brooklyn’s shoulders tensed. She curled her arms around her midsection.
“Mr. Thompson pulled me aside this morning,” Finn told her. There was no point beating around the bush. “He said your grades are slipping and you didn’t turn in some assignments. That’s not like you.”
“It’s nothing,” Brooklyn demanded. “I screwed up. I was so busy focusing on the science fair project that I forgot a couple of things, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay.” Finn sucked in a sharp breath, reminding himself he had to stay calm. “I love that you’re working so hard with Isabel on the science fair, but that can’t come at the cost of your other classes.”
He didn’t add that he wasn’t convinced that was all that was happening. Brooklyn was up until almost midnight every night, supposedly working on homework. That didn’t mesh with what he’d been told.
Brooklyn flipped the blanket over the back of the couch before tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “I’ll do better. Sorry to be such a disappointment.”
Finn stood, blocking her path before she stormed out of the room.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, encouraging her to look at him.
“You’re far from a disappointment, Brooklyn.
You’re an amazing young woman. But it’s my job to worry when you’re acting out of sorts.
If you can’t talk to me, maybe you can talk to your uncle? ”
She and Brendan had always been close. While it pained him to suggest she talk to anyone other than him, he was trying to remember that sometimes kids didn’t want to let their parents know what was bothering them.
Hell, the apple didn’t fall far from that particular tree since Finn still didn’t like worrying his mom.
“It’s nothing.” Brooklyn shrugged him off, side-stepping past him. “I’m going up to my room. Better make sure I don’t have any missing homework to do.”
As much as Finn wanted to follow her, he didn’t. Instead, he flopped into the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Just once, he’d love it if life would cut him a bit of slack.