Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Finn studied Ollie across the restaurant table, watching how the soft lighting caught in his curls and glinted off his glasses.
Their empty plates had been cleared away twenty minutes ago, and they’d lingered over coffee that had gone cold.
The restaurant had gradually emptied around them, but Finn was reluctant to signal for the check, to end this night that felt significant in ways he couldn’t fully articulate.
“I should probably let you get home,” Ollie said, though his expression suggested he was equally unwilling to leave. “It’s getting late.”
Finn hesitated, his heart picking up speed. “Or…” he began, then paused, uncharacteristically uncertain.
Ollie tilted his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Or?”
“It’s not often I have the house to myself,” Finn said, the words coming out in a rush. “If you wanted to come back to my place. For coffee. Or something.”
“Something?” Ollie repeated, his eyes crinkling with amusement behind his glasses.
Finn felt heat creep up his neck. “Yeah, I’m sure we can figure out something. I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
The simple honesty in his voice seemed to shift something between them. Ollie’s playful expression softened into something more vulnerable.
“I’m not either,” he admitted quietly.
The drive to Finn’s house was charged with anticipation, the silence between them comfortable but electric. Finn was acutely aware of Ollie beside him in the passenger seat, of his profile illuminated by passing streetlights, of the faint scent of his cologne.
When they arrived, Finn led Ollie up the walkway, suddenly self-conscious about his modest home. He fumbled slightly with the keys, hyperaware of Ollie standing close behind him.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said automatically as they stepped inside, though the house was, as always, meticulously tidy.
Ollie smiled, glancing around the entryway. “If this is your definition of messy, I’d hate to see what you think of my apartment.”
The comment eased some of Finn’s tension. He hung up their coats, then hesitated. “Coffee? Or tea? Or I have beer, wine…”
“Tea would be nice,” Ollie said, following Finn toward the kitchen. “This is cozy.”
Finn busied himself with filling the kettle, grateful for the familiar routine to occupy his hands. Ollie wandered around the kitchen, examining the photographs on the refrigerator, the row of cookbooks on the shelf, the ceramic mug Brooklyn had made Finn for Father’s Day years ago.
“Your home feels like you,” Ollie commented, leaning against the counter to watch Finn work. “Warm. Thoughtful. Put together.”
Finn glanced over his shoulder, caught off guard by the observation. “Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a very good thing,” Ollie assured him, his voice soft.
The kettle whistled, breaking the moment. Finn turned back to prepare their tea, hyper-focused on the simple task to distract himself from the nervous energy humming through his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive.
Finn set two steaming mugs of tea on the kitchen counter, acutely aware of every sound in the quiet house.
The absence of Brooklyn’s chatter and music created a different atmosphere tonight, an intimacy that wrapped around them like a blanket.
Or maybe that sensation came from Ollie, who leaned against the island watching him with those perceptive eyes that seemed to peel away the layers Finn had spent years constructing around himself, one protective barrier at a time.
Ollie picked up the mug with a grateful nod.
His eyes wandered appreciatively over the organized countertops and warm wood cabinets.
Ollie took a slow sip of tea, his gaze meeting Finn’s over the rim of his mug.
“I’ve spent more time than I should admit imagining what your private spaces might be like. ”
“Have you now?” Finn’s voice dropped lower, the simple question carrying weight in the quiet kitchen.
Ollie set his mug down, fingers fidgeting with his glasses. “That came out wrong. Or maybe exactly right.” His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “I’ve thought about you. About this. Being here with you.”
“I’m glad,” Finn said, moving closer until barely a foot separated them. “Because I’ve been thinking about you too. More than I’ve thought about anyone in a very long time.”
Ollie laughed, the sound loosening something in Finn’s chest. “Well, it’s very…you. Organized but lived in. Everything has a place, but there are signs of actual humans existing here.” He nodded toward the refrigerator, covered in pictures of his family and school schedules. “I like it.”
The simple approval shouldn’t have meant so much, but Finn felt warmth spread through him anyway. He took another sip of his tea, buying time. This was uncharted territory—Ollie in his home, the entire night stretching before them with nothing but their own choices to guide what happened next.
“So,” Ollie said, setting his mug down carefully. “This is nice.”
“Which part?” Finn asked. He hated this feeling where both of them knew where tonight was headed, but neither seemed to know what to say. “The tea? The kitchen tour? Or the fact that we’re alone in my house after we finally got our shit together?”
The directness of his own words surprised him. Ollie’s eyes widened slightly, that flush deepening across his cheeks.
“All of it,” he said softly. “But especially that last part.”
Finn set his own mug down, suddenly needing his hands free. “I should warn you I’m clueless about where to go from here,” he admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. “You might have to push me out of my comfort zone.”
“You’re overthinking things. That’s my job,” Ollie said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he set his mug down and took a deliberate step closer.
The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, the air between them charged with electricity.
He reached out, fingers brushing lightly against Finn’s forearm, the touch featherlight but unmistakably intentional.
“And I’d like to help push those boundaries.
What did you imagine would happen when you invited me to come home with you tonight? ”
Finn felt his cheeks flush and his heart race. “I’m honestly not sure. I just knew I wasn’t ready to say goodnight.”
“Tell me something…” Ollie stepped close enough that Finn could easily put his fingers through Ollie’s belt loops and pull him against his body. But he didn’t, not yet. His breath caught when Ollie rested a hand on his hip. “Have you been with a man before?”
Finn’s gaze dropped to the floor. He didn’t want to see Ollie’s reaction when he admitted to his inexperience. He shook his head.
Ollie crooked a finger under Finn’s chin, urging him to look up.
He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he did, still unsure what he’d see.
He wasn’t expecting the tender acceptance in Ollie’s gaze or his half-smile.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all start somewhere, and like you’ve said, you spent a lot of your adult life filling a role that didn’t allow for exploration. It’s okay.”
His fingers brushed against Finn’s wrist, a touch so light it might have been accidental if not for the intent in his eyes. “I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not ready for. I’m honored to be the one who gets to help you discover this side of yourself.”
Finn swallowed hard, acutely aware of every point where their bodies almost touched. “It feels like it shouldn’t be this easy.”
“If it wasn’t, that would say a lot about the person you’re with,” Ollie said simply.
His thumb traced a small circle against Finn’s pulse point, sending a shiver up his arm.
He slid his palm against Finn’s, interlacing their fingers.
“I’m here because I like you, Finn. We said we were going to take tonight to get to know one another better, and if that’s something as simple as sitting on the couch talking, the evening will have been a success. ”
“And if that leads to something involving less clothing?” Ollie’s assurances emboldened Finn.
He tried to imagine himself as one of the characters in his books, thinking about what they’d do in this situation.
Needing to feel Ollie’s body against his, he stuffed his hands into the back pockets of Ollie’s jeans, gasping when he felt the press of an erection against his own.
“When I said I wanted you, I didn’t just mean for a chat. ”
The air between them shifted, charged with lust. Ollie’s eyes darkened behind his glasses, and he swayed slightly closer. “Finn,” he said, his name barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah?” Finn swallowed hard as Ollie pressed against him. His heart pounded as he waited for Ollie to make the next move.
“I need to kiss you now,” Ollie said, his voice steady despite the flush spreading across his cheeks. “Kissing you in the park was sweet, but I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you just like this. I want to find all the spots on your body that make you go weak in the knees.”
Finn slid his fingers into Ollie’s hair, cradling the back of his head, savoring the softness of the curls between his fingers.
When their lips finally met, the contact sent a jolt of electricity through his entire body.
This wasn’t the tentative exploration of their earlier kisses—this was deliberate, desire finally acknowledged after weeks of holding back.
He kissed Ollie thoroughly, attentively. When Ollie made a small, needy sound in the back of his throat, fingers clutching at Finn’s shirt, it took every ounce of his self-control not to push him against the counter.
“Been thinking about this,” Finn murmured against Ollie’s lips, “for weeks. Stolen kisses aren’t enough for me. I want you, Ollie. Whatever you’ll give me.”