Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Ollie jerked awake to the weight of an arm draped across his waist and solid warmth pressed against his back.
For a split second, panic fluttered in his chest before memories of last night flooded back.
Finn’s hands on his skin. Finn’s mouth against his neck.
The way Finn had whispered his name, like it was a revelation.
A smile spread across Ollie’s face before he even opened his eyes.
He shifted carefully, not wanting to wake Finn but needing to see him. In sleep, Finn looked younger, the perpetual furrow between his brows smoothed away, his mouth slightly parted. Ollie’s chest tightened with something that felt dangerously close to adoration.
“You’re staring,” Finn murmured, eyes still closed.
Ollie grinned. “Can you blame me? The view’s pretty spectacular.”
Finn’s eyes fluttered open, a playful glint shining in them. “Flattery before coffee. I must have done something right.”
“Several somethings, actually,” Ollie replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Finn’s lips. Finn responded with a gentle hum, his hand coming up to cup Ollie’s cheek.
“Is that so?” Finn asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If we had more time, I’d show you just how appreciative I am of last night.”
Ollie nodded, kissing him again, deeper this time. Finn’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer until they were pressed flush against each other. They traded lazy kisses, each one sparking a warmth that spread through Ollie’s chest.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Finn whispered against Ollie’s lips, his hands roaming down Ollie’s back.
Ollie chuckled, rolling his hips slightly, delighting in the soft gasp it elicited from Finn. “I’m glad you approve.”
They continued to make out, the room filling with soft sighs and gentle laughter. It was a moment of pure connection, unhurried and intimate, as they explored each other’s touches and tastes. Eventually, they pulled back, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.
A flush crept up Finn’s neck, and Ollie was fascinated by the way it spread across his chest. He traced it with his fingertips, delighting in Finn’s sharp intake of breath.
“I didn’t want to fall asleep,” Finn admitted, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Just in case this was a dream.”
The simple confession made Ollie’s heart stutter. “Not a dream,” he assured him, leaning in to brush his lips against Finn’s. “Though I did pinch myself once or twice last night, just to be sure.”
Finn’s hand came up to cradle Ollie’s face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone with a tenderness that made Ollie’s chest ache.
“I’ve spent years putting everyone else first,” he said quietly.
“Brooklyn, helping Keaton, what everyone expected of me.” His eyes searched Ollie’s, a vulnerability in his gaze. “But with you, I get to be selfish.”
“And how does that feel?” Ollie prompted, holding his breath.
“Like coming home,” Finn said simply. “To a place I didn’t know I was missing.”
Ollie smiled, relief washing through him. “I know the feeling.”
They lay there for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, the world beyond Finn’s bedroom momentarily forgotten. Ollie couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this content, this present in his own skin.
“I should probably make coffee,” Finn said eventually, though he made no move to get up. “Fair warning—I’m useless without caffeine.”
“Noted,” Ollie said, pressing one last kiss to Finn’s lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Though I think I’ve seen evidence to the contrary.”
“That’s because I know better than to leave the house without at least two cups.
” Finn’s laugh followed him as he searched for his discarded clothes, finding his jeans and borrowing one of Finn’s T-shirts.
It hung loose on his frame, but there was something undeniably satisfying about wearing Finn’s clothes.
In the kitchen, they moved around each other with surprising ease, as if they’d done this a hundred times before. Ollie found mugs while Finn measured coffee grounds. Their hands brushed as they reached for the same drawer, and Ollie felt a ridiculous flutter in his stomach at the simple contact.
“So,” Finn said, leaning against the counter as the coffee brewed, “what happens now?”
The question hung between them, deceptively casual but weighted with possibility. Ollie adjusted his glasses, buying time to gather his thoughts.
“Well, I was thinking pancakes would be a good start,” he said lightly. “And then maybe we see where the day takes us?”
Finn smiled, but his eyes remained serious. “I meant with us. This. Whatever we’re doing.”
Ollie took a deep breath. “I know what you meant. And the honest answer is, I don’t know exactly.
But I want to find out.” He stepped closer to Finn.
“I like you, Finn. A lot. And last night was incredible. But I also know you have Brooklyn to think about, and I have the bookstore, and we both have our own baggage. So maybe we just take it one day at a time? See where it goes?”
Finn’s hands settled on Ollie’s hips, warm and steadying. “I’d like that. The seeing where it goes part.” His thumbs traced small circles against Ollie’s hipbones. “I’m not great at this, you know. The dating thing. I haven’t seriously dated anyone since Holly.”
“It’s been a few years for me too,” Ollie admitted. “And I don’t exactly have a successful track record when it comes to relationships. But I think that’s okay. We can figure it out together.”
The coffee maker beeped, breaking the moment. Finn pressed a quick kiss to Ollie’s forehead before turning to pour them each a mug. The simple domesticity of it made Ollie’s chest tight with longing.
Finn made toast, and they talked about nothing and everything—the bookstore’s upcoming events, how Keaton was trying to transition Finn to working on-site more, a book Ollie had been reading. It was easy, comfortable in a way that should have been surprising but somehow wasn’t.
“I should probably check in with Jules,” Ollie said eventually, glancing at his phone. “They’ll be wondering where I disappeared to.”
Finn’s smile turned slightly wicked. “Tell them you were thoroughly debauched by a single dad with passable cooking skills.”
Ollie laughed, delighted by this playful side of Finn. “I think I’ll spare them the details, but they’ll figure it out. Jules has a sixth sense for these things.”
“Brooklyn won’t be back until this afternoon,” Finn said, his hand finding Ollie’s across the table. “If you want to stay a while longer.”
The invitation sent warmth curling through Ollie’s stomach. “I’d like that.”
Before Finn could respond, they heard the sound of a key in the front door. They both froze, eyes meeting in shared panic.
“Dad?” Brooklyn’s voice called from the entryway. “You up?”
Finn’s expression shifted from surprise to resignation. “In the kitchen,” he called back, giving Ollie’s hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.
So much for having the entire morning to themselves.
Footsteps approached, and then Brooklyn appeared in the doorway. She stopped short at the sight of Ollie, her eyes widening slightly before her expression shuttered.
“Oh,” she said, her gaze flicking between them. “Hi.”
“Morning, Brooklyn,” Ollie said, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. “Your dad was just making breakfast. There’s plenty if you’re hungry.”
Brooklyn hesitated, clearly processing the scene before her—Ollie in her dad’s T-shirt, their coffee mugs side by side, the unmistakable intimacy of the moment.
“You’re up early,” Finn said, breaking the awkward silence. “I thought you were staying at Isabel’s until later.”
Brooklyn shrugged, dropping her overnight bag on the floor. “Marcus got called into work, and I finished my book. Figured I’d ask him for a ride on his way in so you didn’t have to pick me up later.” Her eyes lingered on Ollie for a moment before returning to her dad.
Ollie watched the exchange, acutely aware of being an outsider in this well-established dynamic. Brooklyn’s posture was defensive, not hostile but wary, and he could practically see the questions forming behind her eyes.
“I should get going,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Let you two have breakfast.”
“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Brooklyn said quickly, though her expression remained guarded.
“It’s okay,” Ollie assured her with a smile. “I promised Jules I’d help with some art stuff this afternoon anyway. They’re finally setting up a website to sell online.”
It was a lie, but a harmless one. Brooklyn needed time with her dad, and Ollie needed to process the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours. Finn followed him to the living room, leaving Brooklyn in the kitchen.
“Sorry about that,” Finn said quietly, his hand finding Ollie’s. He spotted Ollie’s sweater on the floor, and handed it to him. “I wasn’t expecting her back so early.”
“It’s fine,” Ollie said, and meant it.
Finn’s expression softened, relief and something warmer flickering in his eyes. “Thank you. For understanding.”
“I’ll call you later?” Ollie suggested, suddenly shy despite the intimacy they’d shared.
“Please do,” Finn said, leaning in to kiss him goodbye. The kiss was brief but tender, a promise of more to come.
As Ollie walked down the driveway, he couldn’t help glancing back at the house.
Through the window, he could see Finn and Brooklyn, their heads bent close in conversation.
Something tightened in his chest—not jealousy, exactly, but a yearning to be part of that world, to find his place in their carefully constructed family of two.
He reached the end of the driveway and paused, suddenly realizing he didn’t have his car. He’d agreed to ride home with Finn, afraid that if he gave the man time to think, he might pull away again. That was biting him in the ass now.