Chapter 10 #3
As Finn walked away, Ollie remained in the reading nook, trying to process the conversation. Finn didn’t regret the kiss. He wanted this—wanted Ollie. But he needed time. Space. Focus for Brooklyn.
It was reasonable. Responsible. Exactly what a good father should prioritize.
So why was a knot forming in his stomach?
Ollie hated the neediness creeping into his thoughts.
He knew better than this—knew that Finn was making the right choice, the only choice a good father could make.
Brooklyn needed stability, needed her dad’s full attention.
The last thing Ollie wanted was to be the person who pulled Finn’s focus away from his daughter when she was struggling.
And yet, the selfish part of him—the part he tried so hard to silence—whispered that he was always the one left waiting.
Always understanding, always accommodating, always putting his own wants last. The rational side of him knew this wasn’t fair.
This wasn’t about him being abandoned. This was about a father prioritizing his child.
But the emotion lingered, unwelcome and persistent, making him feel small and clingy in a way that made him cringe at himself.
“That looked intense,” Sam observed, appearing at the edge of the nook with Maya and Jules in tow. “You okay?”
Ollie considered the question, then shrugged. “I’m fine. We’re…on pause, I guess. Can you even take a break when you were never together? Brooklyn needs him right now, which I completely understand.”
His friends exchanged glances that spoke volumes about how convincing his “fine” had been.
“On pause doesn’t mean it’ll never happen,” Jules pointed out gently.
“I know,” Ollie said, pushing to his feet. “And it’s the right call. Brooklyn should come first.”
“But?” Maya prompted, seeing through his acceptance.
Ollie opened his mouth to deflect, then stopped, something in him cracking just enough to let the truth slip out.
“But I hate that I understand. I hate that I can’t even be properly upset because he’s doing exactly what he should be doing.
” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further.
“And I hate that I’m already so invested that ‘on pause’ feels like someone hit me with a truck. ”
The admission hung in the air for a moment, raw and honest. Then Sam stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“That’s because you’re a good person with a stupidly big heart,” she said, her usual snark softened with genuine affection. “And we love you for it, even when it makes you miserable.”
Ollie managed a small, genuine smile. “Thanks. I think.”
“Come on,” Jules said, gently steering him back toward the main area. “We’ve done enough planning for one day. Let’s just hang for a bit. You’ve been working us, and yourself, to the bone.”
“I vote we order pizza,” Sam announced, already pulling out her phone. “Planning makes me hungry.”
“Everything makes you hungry,” Maya pointed out with fond exasperation.
“True, but especially emotional turmoil and strategic thinking.”
Ollie managed a small laugh despite himself. “Pizza sounds good, actually.”
They settled into easy conversation after Sam ordered food, deliberately avoiding any mention of fundraisers or renovations or complicated almost-relationships.
Jules told stories about their latest art commission—a mural for the elementary school.
Sam shared gossip from Brew & Barrel, complete with dramatic reenactments that had Maya covering her face in secondhand embarrassment.
The next hour flew by, and Ollie barely even noticed that not a single person came into the store while they were relaxing. If his smile occasionally slipped, if he sometimes stared too long at his silent phone, his friends tactfully pretended not to notice.
The bell above the door chimed, and Ollie looked up to see his mother bustling in with determined energy.
“I’m making an executive decision,” she announced, surveying the group with the authority that came from decades of bookstore ownership. “You’re taking the afternoon off.” She paused, taking in the scene. “Oh, good, the whole crew is here.”
“Perfect timing, Mrs. Jennings,” Jules said with a smile. “We were just finishing lunch so we can go out and hang posters.”
“Well, now you’re finishing for the day. All of you.” She turned to Ollie, studying his face with the scrutiny only mothers seemed capable of. “You look exhausted, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” he said automatically.
She made a noncommittal sound that clearly communicated her disbelief. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone. The store looks incredible, and I can’t thank you and your friends enough for everything you’ve done, but you need a break. The books will still be here tomorrow.”
“Mom—”
“She’s right,” Sam interjected, already stretching her arms above her head. “You’ve been here since dawn. Go home. Take a bath. Read something just for the fun of it.”
His mother nodded approvingly at Sam. “Smart girl.”
There was no way Ollie was winning this battle.
He gathered his things, said goodbye to his friends, and made the trek up the back stairs to his apartment.
Sometimes, he wished it had been his apartment that had flooded.
He rarely went out, and he’d have noticed soon enough that the bookstore wouldn’t have been damaged.
But then, he might have never gotten his moment with Finn. And even if things were in this weird limbo between them, he couldn’t wish away that kiss.