28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
T he day of the photography exhibition at Whipped had arrived, and Fin was going to shit a brick. Or shit themself. They weren’t sure, but either way, their stomach was in knots.
They’d been up all night finalizing the details, since the dungeon had been in active use during the day, and they’d done a quick changeover once Meg finished with her last client. Of course she’d delegated tasks to everyone on staff so Fin was able to focus on getting their photography hung.
“Stay still, you stubborn fucker.” Eva gritted her teeth as she tried to apply something with a sponge on Fin’s cheeks.
What the fuck weird substances were they using?
Fin tried to peek past her in the bathroom mirror.
“It’s nothing extensive, just some base coat.
Think of it like the cars your boyfriend works on. ”
“What kind of car would I be, though?” Fin asked, their energy amping and their bratting leaking out of them naturally. “Because if I’m some shitty Mazda, no amount of base coat is going to help.”
“What’d a Mazda ever do to you?” Pixie peeked in from behind.
Eva painted another puff and let out a groan. “Okay, I’m done wrangling. Put your damn jacket on.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” Fin darted over to the coat hook, where they’d left their nice leather jacket.
They had paired it with a black button-down, tailored black pants, and classic Doc Martens, and they were feeling the best mix of classy and themselves, which was all they were clinging to tonight. Because fuck.
Strip down naked and fuck on a stage? Whatever.
Show the world their photography? They were ready to vomit.
“Hera’s been blocked on every page and group related to the show too.” Nolan stood by the door. “So no worries about her stirring up any more shit.”
“She wouldn’t have the stones to crash this event and try Meg after that stunt too.” Fin smoothed down their shirt as they exited the bathroom. "Ready to do this?” Nolan arched a brow. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before.”
A glib response rose to their lips, but they met Nolan’s gaze, and for once, they let it drop. “I don’t do this. The whole showing parts of myself. So we’ll have this photography show, and after, I’ll burn all the photos, and we’ll never speak of this again.”
“Right,” Nolan teased. “You think Meg’s going to let you burn them?”
Fin rolled their eyes. “Come on, let’s go, asshole. ”
They stepped past the employee area and into the main stretch of the café.
The lights were dimmed, but Pixie and Micah had done amazing work in decorating with string lights around the café, and Parker and Sloan had picked up catering, which was laid out on the tables.
Ezra and Kai had swept in and helped to clear the room downstairs while Fin worked on the last-minute details with the photography setup.
Nolan had been handling the socials while Meg and Tristan directed and tied up every loose end to make this show run seamlessly.
Hera had a nice space, but this show would’ve never meant as much there.
Having it here—well, Whipped was their home, the first one they’d known.
Meg clapped a hand on Fin’s shoulder. “You going to wait downstairs or upstairs for the masses?”
“You mean like the two people coming?”
Tristan strolled by, stealing one of the olives from the charcuterie plate. “Babe, there’s more than that. Meg’s been giddy over the amount of folks who’ll be showing up at Whipped for this.”
“I see, I see, just part of the grandiose marketing scheme.” Fin winked.
Meg tugged their ear. “No, you little shit. I love you, and I’m going to support you any damn way I can, even if I have to constantly hammer that through your thick skull.”
Fin’s throat grew thick. If Meg hadn’t given them the job here…fuck, they didn’t know where they might’ve ended up. Not this rich with friends who’d become the family they’d always hoped for. “Thanks. Love you too.”
“Oh my god, are you broken?” Micah said as he and Pixie carried out a few flowers in vases to drop by tables. “Real emotions? ”
“I’m about to ask your Daddy for a turn spanking that ass,” Fin said.
“Don’t you have your boy to occupy you now?” Parker called from across the room, where he and Ezra were moving around some chairs.
“Speak of the devil.” Meg tilted her head toward the door where Ollie stood. “Any reason you didn’t want him to show up early?”
Fin’s cheeks heated, and their heart beat harder. Not one they’d share with the class. “Because his ass is distracting, and I’d probably end up getting cum all over my pretty pictures.”
“Right,” Nolan said dryly. “So believable.”
Fin strode toward the door, their pulse picking up pace with each step. They flipped the latch on the door and eyed him up.
Fuck, their boyfriend was so damn pretty.
Ollie cleaned up just as well as he grimed up, and he looked exceptionally good tonight.
His dark hair was teased with product, and he wore a red button-down with black slacks, both form-fitting in a way that showcased his huge shoulders and thighs.
Ngh. Maybe the distracting part hadn’t been a total lie.
“Hey,” he said, his hand behind his back. “I know you’re not the flowers type, so I brought this.” With that, he unveiled a small, brassy carburetor in his palm.
Fuck, they were going to marry this man.
Fin didn’t hesitate. They wrapped their hand around his nape and dragged him in for a kiss.
They poured all their nerves, all their vulnerabilities, all their emotions that overflowed tonight into that kiss, sinking into the sweetness of his mouth, the scent of diesel oil that clung to him after he finished a shift.
“God, I love you.” They plucked up the carburetor. “This is way fucking better than some wilted petals. ”
“Can I see the exhibit early, or are you going to make me wait longer?” he asked, his deep-set eyes twinkling.
“Come on.” Fin ushered him in, then closed and locked the door behind them.
“Look who showed up,” Micah teased.
“Oh, shush,” Pixie said. “He was just being a good boy, unlike you, Bratty Spice.”
Fin shook their head, unable to help their smile as they headed down the steps to the dungeon.
The path was well worn, one that had led to their refuge time after time.
This entire place had seeped into their veins and was imprint in their mind of what a home was supposed to feel like.
They hadn’t experienced anything else like it before, but the first time they’d met Ollie and encountered the same reaction, that had been the first sign he belonged to them.
They stepped into the dungeon, which had been transformed for the show. Photos decorated the walls, and on the tables the crew had dragged out, more of their work was displayed.
“Come on,” Fin said, their tone a little gruffer as they walked hand in hand with Ollie.
Their throat tightened, and the emotion washing over them grew so big it threatened to spill out.
Because their work conveyed everything that these walls had stood witness to.
More than just orgies at Play Nights or extreme kink.
No, this place was where they’d come to blow off steam with Mario Kart during shitty holidays when the family bullshit was hitting hard. It was where they’d all gathered to support each other during their worst moments. It had witnessed their tears and cries and moans and love.
It had witnessed so much love.
Fin led Ollie over to the final exhibit on the far wall, their palms sweating, their heart thumping harder .
“And this one might be a smidge familiar.” They stopped before the section that featured the pictures of him.
Of the initial session in the abandoned lock factory. Of the ones down here in the dungeon.
But they’d included more—pictures of the beach they’d escaped to. Of the Ducati they continued to go on tandem rides with. Of tangled sheets after they’d fucked.
All the photos told the story of how Fin had fallen in love.
Ollie’s hand tightened on theirs. “Fin…I…”
“If you say you hate it, I’m going to commit arson.”
“No need for arson.” Ollie glanced at them, his eyes filled with a warmth that traveled to their bones, and they surrendered to it. “I’m…just…fuck. No one’s ever seen me the way you do.”
Fin’s throat tightened. Fuck, they needed to not bawl through this entire night. They leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ollie’s lips. “I love you. So damn much.”
“I love you too,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I’ve got one I didn’t display.” They walked over to one of the drawers, tugged a picture out, and handed it over.
It was simple—just one Fin had snapped with their good camera while they were lying in bed with Ollie.
No finesse, no fancy lighting. Just the relaxed joy in both of their expressions.
Fin had never witnessed it on themself before, and when they’d seen the picture, they’d been mesmerized.
This was what Ollie did to them.
“This is my favorite,” Ollie said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “The best of the bunch.”
Fin had believed they were too broken to love. Relationships reminded them of their parents’ toxic one, and they wanted no part of that.
However, Ollie had taught them differently .
He’d been guarded, jaded, and far too similar, and yet somehow their jagged edges had aligned in the perfect way. And now that he belonged to Fin, they were never letting him go.
“Fin, we’re opening the doors,” Meg called down. “You prepared?”
Fin shot one last glance to Ollie, holding his hand tight. “Yeah, I am. Ready to face the masses with me?” Fin asked, a little of their nerves bleeding through.
“You know it.” He slipped his hand in theirs again. “I’ll be by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”
Forever.