“Why?” The question came out more bluntly than Ollie intended.
Finn sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I’ve been an ass. And I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Finn.” Ollie leaned against the desk, creating a small buffer of space between them. “But I’d appreciate the truth.”
Finn nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “The truth is… I’m scared, Ollie. Of this. Of us. Of how much I want it.”
The admission, simple as it was, loosened something in Ollie’s chest. “So you’ve been pulling away.”
“Yeah.” Finn looked up, meeting Ollie’s eyes with a directness that made his breath catch. “It’s not you. It’s me. And I know how that sounds, but it’s true. There are things about me, about my life, that I haven’t told you. Things I’m not sure how to explain because they don’t even make sense to me at this point.”
Ollie’s heart raced. He wanted to reassure Finn that whatever he had to say couldn’t be that bad, but he wasn’t sure of anything at this point. “You can tell me anything, Finn. Whatever it is.”
Finn’s expression was pained, a war clearly raging behind his eyes. “I want to. I’m trying to.” He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “I just need you to know that my distance isn’t about not wanting you. It’s about being afraid of how much I do.”
The raw honesty in his voice made Ollie’s throat tight. He wanted to be angry, to demand the whole truth now, but the vulnerability in Finn’s eyes stopped him. Whatever secret he was keeping, it clearly weighed on him heavily.
“Okay,” Ollie said softly. “I can give you time. But I need something from you too.”
“Anything,” Finn said, the word immediate and sincere.
“Don’t shut me out.” Ollie reached for Finn’s hand, twining their fingers together. “Even when you’re scared. Even when you’re not ready to tell me everything. Just…be here with me. Present. Real.”
Finn’s fingers tightened around his. “I can do that. I want to do that.”
“Good.” Ollie tugged him closer until barely an inch separated them. “Because I meant it when I said I’m falling for you, Finn. All of you, even the parts you’re worried about telling me about.”
The confession hung between them, honest and terrifying. Finn’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly before softening with something that looked remarkably like hope.
“Ollie,” he breathed, his free hand coming up to cup Ollie’s face. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Probably not,” Ollie agreed with a small smile. “But you’ve got me anyway.”
Finn laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension between them. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Ollie’s. “I’m falling for you too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. It was stupid how both of them were dancing around their feelings, like both of them were scared of the L-word. “And it scares the hell out of me.”
“Good things usually do,” Ollie murmured, tilting his face up to brush his lips against Finn’s.
The kiss was gentle, tentative, a bridge across the distance that had grown between them. Finn’s hand slid into Ollie’s hair, cradling the back of his head as the kiss deepened, becoming something more desperate, more honest.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Ollie felt some of his earlier anxiety ease. Whatever was holding Finn back, whatever secret he was keeping, the connection between them was real. That had to count for something.
“I should let you get back to work,” Finn said reluctantly, his thumb tracing the line of Ollie’s jaw. “Brooklyn’s expecting me home for dinner.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Ollie asked, hating the hint of uncertainty in his voice. What he actually wanted to beg for was an invitation to dinner. He missed sitting down with the two of them, hearing all about Brooklyn’s day at school and the final tweaks she and Isabel were making before this weekend’s science fair.
“Yes,” Finn promised. “No more rain checks. No more distance.”
Ollie wanted to believe him, wanted it so badly he could taste it. “I’m holding you to that.”
Finn kissed him once more, a brief press of lips that felt like a seal on his promise. After Finn left, Ollie remained in the office, his lips still tingling from their kiss. The conversation had eased some of his fears but raised new questions. What was Finn hiding? What could be so significant that he couldn’t share it, even now?
Ollie turned back to his laptop, opening it with a sigh. The showcase program still needed to be finished, authors still needed to be confirmed, and life still needed to be lived. But as he stared at the blank document, he found himself thinking about romance novels—about the secrets that kept lovers apart, about the moment of revelation that finally brought them together. His life felt like it was careening toward a third-act break-up, and he hated it.
In books, those secrets always came out eventually. The question was whether the relationship could survive the truth.
Ollie began to type, the words coming easier now, fueled by his own complicated emotions. He wrote about romance as an act of courage, about the vulnerability of letting someone see your whole self, about the leap of faith required to love without guarantees.
As the words flowed, Ollie felt a quiet certainty settle over him. Whatever Finn was hiding, whatever was holding him back, Ollie would be there when he was ready to share it. Not because he was a martyr or a saint, but because some connections were worth fighting for, worth waiting for.
