“Why would you say that?”
“He, uh… noticed I was… not fully focused.”
Maurice laughed. “I wonder why.”
Finn rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re jealous,” Maurice murmured, leaning in enough that Finn felt his breath on his cheek.
Finn’s heart did a weird, happy somersault. “I wasn’t jealous of that rockstar you were with. I did like his turquoise hair though.”
“You rushed across the room like Billy might not leave my table fast enough.”
Finn groaned. “Okay, maybe a little jealous.”
Maurice kissed the top of Finn’s nose. “I liked it.”
Finn’s breath caught. “Yeah?”
Maurice nodded once, slow and deliberate. “Yeah.”
“Ready to leave?” Maurice asked.
Finn didn’t even pretend to think about it. “I was ready ten minutes ago.”
Maurice laughed and took Finn’s hand. “Good.”
Finn had barely made it three steps toward the door before Mr. Santos’s voice cut through the room.
“Finn! Hold on a moment.”
He winced like he had been caught like a kid sneaking out of class early and turned around. Maurice slowed beside him but didn’t let go, his fingers resting warmly over Finn’s hand, making Finn’s thoughts scatter.
Mr. Santos approached with that calm, all-knowing expression he wore like a uniform. “Why are you leaving before the next round? You still have people to meet.”
Finn tried to appear innocent. It probably came out more like busted but pretending not to be. “I, uh… found Mr. Right.”
Mr. Santos blinked. “Already?”
Finn shrugged, cheeks warm. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”
Mr. Santos folded his arms. “Finn, the whole point of this event is to explore your options. You shouldn’t rush into—”
“I’m not rushing,” Finn said quickly. “I just… know.” Mr. Santos was all over his business in a fatherly way. He hadn’t noticed him behaving that way to anyone else.
Mr. Santos gave him a look that said, “You’re twenty-one and full of hormones,” but Finn held his ground. Maurice’s hand tightened around his.
“Finn,” Mr. Santos tried again, gentler this time, “you owe it to yourself to meet everyone. You never know who you might connect with.”
Finn shook his head. “I already know.”
Mr. Santos opened his mouth to argue again, but Maurice stepped forward, voice low and steady.
“He’s safe with me.” The room didn’t go silent, but it felt as if it had. Maurice wasn’t posturing or puffing up, but stating a fact with certainty. Maurice stayed close, his grip steady, thumb brushing once across the back of Finn’s hand.
Mr. Santos studied Maurice for a long moment. “You understand the responsibility that comes with that?”
Maurice nodded once. “I do.”
