Chapter 9 #2
“You’re…” Finn struggled, words failing him as they so often did when it mattered most. “You’re the first person in a very long time who makes me want to be more than just Brooklyn’s dad or the reliable guy at work. You make me want things I thought I’d stopped letting myself want.”
The confession hung between them, more revealing than Finn had intended but utterly true. Ollie’s expression softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper, more tender.
“Finn,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I—”
Whatever he was about to say was lost as Finn closed the distance between them, one hand coming up to cup Ollie’s cheek as he pressed their lips together in a kiss that was both question and answer.
For a heartbeat, Ollie froze, and Finn began to pull back, apology already forming—but then Ollie’s hands were in his hair, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss with a soft sound that made Finn’s knees weak.
It was tentative at first, a careful exploration—the brush of lips, the gentle pressure of hands, the shared breath between them.
Then Ollie’s fingers tightened in Finn’s hair, and something shifted, the kiss turning deeper, more urgent.
Finn backed him against the desk, one hand at his waist, the other still cradling his face as if he were something precious.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Finn rested his forehead against Ollie’s, eyes closed, overwhelmed by the intensity of what he was feeling.
“That was…” Ollie began, his voice unsteady.
“Yeah,” Finn agreed, unable to find better words.
They stayed like that for a moment, suspended in the aftermath, neither quite ready to step back into reality. Finn could feel Ollie’s heartbeat, rapid and strong, echoing his own. He wanted to stay here, in this moment, where everything felt possible and nothing was complicated.
But reality had a way of asserting itself. His phone buzzed again in his pocket—a text this time. Reluctantly, he pulled back, already missing Ollie’s warmth as he checked the screen.
Brooklyn
I wasn’t feeling great. Came home early. Need you to let the school know it’s okay.
The simple message was a stark reminder of his responsibilities, of the conversation he needed to have with his daughter. Guilt twisted in his stomach, not just for being late, but for the way he’d momentarily forgotten everything but the feel of Ollie in his arms.
“I have to go,” he said, regret heavy in his voice. “Brooklyn said she’s not feeling well, and after that call…”
“I know,” Ollie said, understanding in his eyes even as disappointment flickered across his features. “You should go. We can talk tomorrow.”
Finn nodded, though the thought of leaving now, with so much unresolved between them, felt wrong. “I’m sorry. For rushing out like this, after…” He gestured vaguely between them, words failing him again.
“Don’t apologize,” Ollie said firmly. “Brooklyn needs you. I’ll never force you to choose between us because I know I’ll lose.”
The simple acknowledgment—that Ollie understood, that he didn’t resent Brooklyn’s place in Finn’s life—made something in Finn’s chest tighten with emotion.
“Tomorrow,” he promised, reaching out to squeeze Ollie’s hand briefly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
As he drove home, Finn’s mind raced, replaying the kiss, the conversation, the way Ollie had looked at him with such open vulnerability.
He’d spent so long keeping his heart carefully guarded, focusing on Brooklyn, on work, on anything but his own needs.
The idea that he might allow himself to want more—to reach for something that was just for him—was both exhilarating and terrifying.
But as he pulled into his driveway, reality reasserted itself. Brooklyn was inside, struggling with something she hadn’t felt able to share with him. Whatever was happening between him and Ollie would have to wait. His daughter needed him now.
He found Brooklyn at the kitchen table, textbooks spread around her, though she didn’t appear to be studying. She looked up as he entered, her expression guarded in a way that made his heart ache.
“Hey,” he said, setting down his bag. He opened the cupboards, more as a way to stall than looking for anything in particular. “How are you feeling?”
Brooklyn shrugged, turning her attention back to the book in front of her. “Fine. I took some Tylenol when I got home. My head was killing me.”
Finn studied her, taking in the tension in her shoulders, the way she avoided his gaze. “I got another call from school today.”
Her head snapped up, wariness replacing the indifference. “About what?”
“You’ve been skipping fourth period,” he said, keeping his voice even, non-accusatory. “Want to tell me why?”
“Not really,” she muttered, closing her textbook with more force than necessary.
Finn pulled out the chair across from her, sitting down. “Brooklyn, talk to me. This isn’t like you. What’s going on? You said you weren’t feeling well, and that might explain today, but what about the other days?”
She remained silent, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. Finn waited, giving her space to gather her thoughts, fighting the urge to fill the silence with questions or reassurances.
Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s just stupid English class. I hate it.”
“You’ve always loved English,” Finn said, confusion evident in his voice. He was surprised Noah hadn’t reached out to him directly to give him a heads-up about Brooklyn skipping his class. “What changed?”
Brooklyn shrugged again, but there was something vulnerable in the gesture now. “Mr. Thompson assigned this group project, and I got stuck with Madison and her friends. All they care about is their stupid social media content and party plans.”
The admission, small as it was, felt like a crack in the wall she’d been building between them.
While it concerned him that Brooklyn was struggling with some of her classmates, he was more upset that she’d thought skipping school was a better solution than talking to him about what was going on.
He needed to tread carefully to keep her from shutting down while also letting her know her behavior wasn’t acceptable.
“I know it can be tough, but you can’t just skip out because you don’t want to deal with your classmates. Are they bullying you or something?”
“It’s not a big deal,” she insisted, though her voice wavered slightly.
“They just… They make comments sometimes. About my clothes, about how I’m always reading instead of doing whatever they think is cool.
And there’s this guy, Tyler, who sits behind me.
He started talking to me, and now Madison’s decided I’m trying to steal her crush or something equally stupid. ”
Anger flared in Finn’s chest at the thought of his daughter being bullied, but he kept his voice calm. “Have you talked to Mr. Thompson about changing groups?”
“And be the girl who can’t handle a little teasing? No thanks,” Brooklyn said, a flash of her usual stubbornness showing through. “I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”
“So you’re skipping class instead,” Finn concluded, understanding dawning. “Do you even realize how much trouble both of us could be in if you keep this up? I love you, but this isn’t acceptable.”
She looked down at her hands. “I know. It was just…easier. For a while.”
Finn reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “I get it. I do. But running away doesn’t solve the problem. And your education matters too much to let some mean girls derail it.”
Brooklyn nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I know. I’ll go back. I promise.”
“And you’ll talk to Mr. Thompson?” Finn pressed gently. “He can help, Brooklyn. That’s his job.”
She hesitated, then nodded again. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”
Relief washed over Finn, though he knew this was just the beginning of addressing whatever was going on with his daughter.
“Thank you. And, Brooklyn? You can always talk to me. About anything. Even if you think it’s stupid, or that I won’t understand.
I’m always here. I’m trying to be understanding, but you can’t keep pushing boundaries like this.
If I find out you’re skipping anymore after today, I’ll have to think about a suitable punishment. ”
She finally looked up, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I know, Dad.”
As they sat there, the tension between them easing slightly, Finn was struck by how much he loved this complicated, brilliant, sometimes frustrating young woman. He would do anything for her—move mountains, fight dragons, rearrange his entire life if it would make her happy and safe.
And yet, as he helped her with her homework and later made them both a proper dinner, his mind kept drifting back to Ollie. To the warmth of his lips, the way he’d looked at Finn with such open vulnerability, the possibility of something new and unexpected blooming between them.
For the first time in years, Finn was caught between two powerful forces: his unwavering commitment to his daughter and the unexpected, terrifying hope of something just for himself.
As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he wondered if it was possible to honor both—to be the father Brooklyn needed while also allowing himself to reach for the happiness Ollie offered.
He didn’t have an answer yet. But as he drifted toward sleep, the memory of Ollie’s smile warming him despite the rain still pattering against the windows, he found himself hoping he might find a way to do both.