“That sounds familiar,” Ollie said softly. “But you have family in the area. Couldn’t they have helped you?”
“I’m sure they would have, but I did everything I could to make sure my parents didn’t know what was going on. It was right after Dad got sick, and Mom was busy taking care of him. I didn’t need her worried about me too.” Finn’s thumb traced the rim of his mug. “It’s hard. Letting people see the cracks. Letting them help.”
“Especially when you convince yourself they’ll think less of you once they see the mess,” Ollie added, the words escaping before he could filter them.
Finn nodded slowly, his expression softening. “That’s what I meant. You understand.”
Ollie felt strangely exposed, as if Finn could see straight through him to all the fears he usually kept hidden beneath jokes and energy.
“I’m afraid,” Finn said finally, his voice hushed, “of wanting things. Of letting myself care too much. What if it gets taken away?”
The raw honesty in his voice made Ollie’s chest ache. Without thinking, he reached across the table, his fingers stopping just short of Finn’s.
“What if it doesn’t?” he asked softly.
Finn stared at Ollie’s outstretched hand, something complicated and yearning passing across his usually stoic features. For a moment, Ollie thought he might reach out, might bridge that final distance between them.
Instead, Finn glanced at his watch and sighed. “I should get back to the store. Make sure everything’s progressing.”
“Of course,” Ollie said, withdrawing his hand and ignoring the pang of disappointment. “Thank you for stopping by. And for dealing with the insurance company.”
Finn nodded, gathering his folder as he stood. “I’ll keep you updated on the progress. And, Ollie?”
“Yes?”
“Your friends are right. You don’t have to do this alone.”
They walked to the door together, navigating between tables in the now-crowded bakery. Ollie, distracted by the swirl of emotions from their conversation, nearly collided with Finn as they reached the entrance.
“Sorry,” he murmured, stepping back—but not before their hands brushed, a fleeting contact that sent electricity up his arm.
Instead of pulling away, Finn let his hand linger, his fingers curling slightly around Ollie’s. The touch was deliberate, unmistakable. His thumb traced a small circle on the back of Ollie’s hand before squeezing gently.
Ollie looked up, meeting Finn’s gaze. Neither spoke—they didn’t need to.
“Take care of yourself,” Finn said finally, his voice rough around the edges. “Let them help where you can.”
“Thanks,” Ollie replied, barely above a whisper, “for not letting me fake it.”
Finn held his gaze a moment longer, then released his hand and stepped outside. Ollie watched him go, aware of a tingling warmth spreading from his hand throughout his body.
He was still standing there when his friends returned, their expressions varying from Sam’s knowing smirk to Jules’s raised eyebrows to Maya’s gentle smile. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were standing just out of sight, waiting for Finn to leave so they could hound him for a rundown of what they’d talked about.
Hewasn’tgoing to tell them it was anything other than professional. They’d take Finn’s concern and run with it to thepoint they’d have Ollie convinced Finnwasinterested in him, which would only set him up for further heartbreak.
“So,” Sam drawled. “That was interesting.”
“Shut up,” Ollie said without heat, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
“I don’t think I will,” Sam replied cheerfully. “Not when you’re looking at that man like you want to eat him for dessert.”
“We have a bookstore to save,” Ollie reminded them, trying and failing to sound stern. “Focus, people.”
“Oh, we’re focused,” Jules assured him, their eyes twinkling. “On multiple fronts.”
The conversation returned to logistics—dates, promotional materials, potential sponsors—but something had shifted inside Ollie. The problems remained, the challenges were still daunting, but they no longer felt insurmountable.
Hours later, after his friends had left and the bakery was nearly empty, Ollie’s phone buzzed with a text from Finn.
