Finn hung back slightly, watching the exchange with a mixture of relief and a subtle ache in his chest. There was something bittersweet about seeing how effortlessly Ollie connected with Brooklyn, drawing out that spark of enthusiasm he’d been trying so desperately to rekindle for months. No forced conversation, no walking on eggshells. Just a genuine interest that bypassed all her defenses in a way Finn couldn’t seem to manage lately.
He recognized the feeling tightening his throat. It wasn’t quite jealousy, but something adjacent to it. A reminder of how easy their relationship used to be, before puberty and high school had complicated everything. Before conversations became minefields and shared interests seemed to evaporate overnight.
Yet alongside that ache bloomed something warmer as he watched Brooklyn’s shoulders relax, her posture opening up in a way it rarely did anymore. If Ollie could reach her when Finn couldn’t, maybe that was its own kind of gift.
As they’d entered the store, Finn had hung back slightly, watching the easy way Ollie drew Brooklyn into conversation. There was no condescension, no forced enthusiasm, just genuine interest and respect. Something warm unfurled in Finn’s chest at the sight.
The bookstore had been transformed for the event. Colorful banners hung from the newly repaired ceiling, themed displays featured everything from fantasy to contemporary YA, and the central area had been cleared for activities. Teens clusteredaround different stations, while parents and community members browsed the shelves or chatted over coffee.
When Ollie first mentioned wanting to do an event for teens, Finn had been skeptical. From what he’d seen, most kids were more interested in technology than physical books. Being proven wrong was a pleasant surprise. Then again, that was why Ollie sold books while Finn preferred to stay behind the screen.
“The trivia is over there,” Ollie told Brooklyn, pointing to a table decorated with book covers and question cards. “Isabel’s been helping out, but she’s been begging for backup. The questions get progressively harder, and I think she’s out of her depth on the fantasy rounds.”
Brooklyn’s eyes lit up at the mention of her friend. “Isabel’s here?”
“Volunteered first thing this morning,” Ollie confirmed. “Something about needing community service hours for National Honor Society, but between us, I think she just wanted first dibs on the new releases we got in yesterday.”
Brooklyn actually laughed at that—a small sound, but real. “That tracks.”
As she headed toward the trivia station, Ollie turned to Finn, his smile softening into something more private. “Thanks for bringing her. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to convince her.”
“Neither was I,” Finn admitted, watching as Brooklyn greeted Isabel with a half-hug. “She’s been… It’s been tough lately.”
“But she’s here,” Ollie pointed out gently. “That counts for something.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the noise of the event, the people milling around them, the careful distance they’d maintained since their conversation a week ago. Finn’s gaze dropped to Ollie’s lips, remembering their softness, the way they’d parted under his own.
“Ollie!” Jules called from across the store. “The coffee maker’s doing that weird gurgling thing again!”
The moment broke. Ollie sighed, pushing his glasses up. “Duty calls. The caffeine must flow.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m glad you’re here, Finn. Both of you.”
As Ollie hurried off to fix the coffee situation, Finn was drawn into the event’s orbit. Maya enlisted his help moving a display table, Sam roped him into restocking the refreshment station, and somehow, he ended up explaining the difference between science fiction and fantasy to a group of bewildered parents.
Throughout it all, he kept finding his gaze drawn to two points in the room: Brooklyn at the trivia station, gradually relaxing as she quizzed tweens on book knowledge, and Ollie, moving through the crowd with infectious enthusiasm, somehow everywhere at once.
“You know, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through him,” Brendan’s voice came from behind, startling Finn.
“What are you doing here?” Finn asked, ignoring the comment.
Brendan grinned, snagging a cookie from the refreshment table. “Supporting local business. Preening over the kick-ass results of the first project Keaton trusted me to lead. Appreciating literature. Watching my brother make heart eyes at the cute bookstore owner. Take your pick.”
“I’m not making heart eyes,” Finn muttered, though he could feel heat creeping up his neck.
“Sure you’re not.” Brendan’s expression softened slightly. “How’s Brooklyn doing?”
Finn glanced toward the trivia station, where his daughter was animatedly explaining something to a younger teen, her hands gesturing as she spoke. “Better, I think. Still not quite herself, but she’s getting there.”
“And you two? Making progress?”
“Some days,” Finn admitted. “Others, it feels like we’re speaking different languages. I miss the days when I was her hero. I know that’s selfish, but damn, it sucks constantly second-guessing myself.”
Brendan nodded, understanding in his eyes. “She’ll come around. O’Rileys are stubborn, but we get there eventually. Remember what a pain in the ass I was when I was younger?” He nudged Finn’s shoulder. “Speaking of getting there, what’s the deal with you and Ollie? You’ve been doing this weird orbit thing for a month now, close but never quite connecting.”
Finn sighed, keeping his voice low. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” Brendan studied him for a moment. “You know, it’s okay to want something for yourself, Finn. Even with everything else going on.”
Before Finn could respond, Maya appeared, iPad in hand. “Finn! Just the man I need. The YA fantasy display is causing some debate—apparently, mixingShadow and BonewithPercy Jacksonis a cardinal sin. Could you help mediate?”
