“Did he though?” Jules asked, returning with two steaming mugs. “Or were you being genuine about books you genuinely love?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?” Jules settled back into their chair. “I don’t think you’re pissed off at all. You’re embarrassed because you didn’t know it was his writing. If you had, you’d have held back.”
The observation hit uncomfortably close to home. Ollie took a sip of tea, buying time. “Maybe.”
“Definitely. And that’s not the same as betrayal, Ollie. That’s just awkward.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the familiar sounds of the studio filling the space between them.
“I keep thinking about all the conversations we’ve had,” Ollie said finally. “About books, about writing. He never once mentioned that he writes. Not even when I asked him directly what he reads.”
“What did he say when you asked?”
Ollie frowned, trying to remember. “Historical fiction. Biographies. He was evasive about romance.”
“Of course he was. He was probably terrified you’d figure it out.” Jules leaned forward. “Think about it from his perspective. He’s been keeping this secret, probably for good reasons. Then suddenly there’s this guy he’s crazy about, who happens to be obsessed with his alter-ego. That’s got to be terrifying.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Ollie protested weakly.
Jules gave him a look. “Ollie. You totally are. You literally squealed when his latest release came in.”
Heat crept up Ollie’s neck. “I didn’t squeal.”
“You squealed. It was adorable and slightly unhinged.” Jules’s expression softened. “But that’s exactly why he was scared to tell you. What if you fell for the author instead of the man?”
The question hit like a physical blow. “I would never?—”
“He might not have known that. Not for sure.” Jules set down their mug. “Look, I’m not saying he handled this well at all. Keeping secrets in a relationship is shitty. But I understand why he did it.”
Ollie stared into his tea. “So what do I do now?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to be angry,” Ollie admitted. “I want to feel betrayed and righteous and justified in my hurt.”
“But?”
“But I also want to grab him and kiss him and tell him how proud I am.” The confession came out barely above a whisper. “He’s so fucking talented. And he’s been hiding this incredible part of himself because he was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
Ollie thought about Brooklyn, about small-town gossip, about the weight of being a single father. “Of people judging him for what he writes. It’s not exactly a mainstream path, even for authors. And he said he wanted to protect Brooklyn so she wasn’t bullied for what he chose to do.”
“And now he’s offered to publicly out himself to save your event.”
The truth of it settled over Ollie like a blanket. Finn hadn’t just told him the truth—he’d offered to make it public, to step into the spotlight he’d been avoiding, all to help Ollie save something that mattered to him.
“He’s going to hate the attention,” Ollie said. “He’s so private. But Rhett Wilder making his first public appearance…? That’s huge. It could save the bookstore.”
“And?”
“And I don’t know if I can ask him to do that. Not when things are so messed up between us.”
Jules was quiet for a long moment. “Can I ask you something?”
Ollie nodded.
