“Not exactly.” Finn rubbed his thumb along the rim of his mug. “They asked me to play poker, didn’t mention it was strip poker. I was afraid to say no, but they cheated and I lost my clothes.”
Jacob winced, sympathetic but also a little amused. “That’s rough. And honestly? Sounds like a story people tell for years.”
Finn shrugged, but it wasn’t casual—it was tight, defensive. “There were more of them. Mr. Santos almost kicked me off the train.”
Jacob blinked. “Wait, seriously? For what?”
“Breaking a rule. No nudity in a public space.”
Jacob let out a soft laugh—not at Finn, but at the absurdity of the whole situation. “You really had a weird start,huh?” Then his expression softened. “Hey… for what it’s worth, you don’t have to say yes to people just because they’re louder or bigger or whatever. You deserve better than that.”
Finn stared at the tablecloth, the pattern blurring. He kept thinking about how easily things could’ve gone wrong. If his parents had asked Mr. Santos to keep him safe, maybe he would’ve been thrown out anyway. Except… his parents didn’t even know he was here. He hadn’t told them.
Jacob leaned forward. “Look, everybody gets dragged into weird situations sometimes. Especially on this train.” His smile curved, soft and a little flirty. “But you’re here, you’re okay, and you’re still somehow the brightest thing in this car.”
Finn straightened his rainbow belt, took a breath, and decided he’d accept the kind words.
Jacob went on, trying to figure out how someone like him existed. “I mean it. You’ve got this… glow. Like you’re running on your own little power source. Half the guys on this train look like they’re recovering from last night’s party, and you’re over here looking like the morning sun hitched a ride.”
Finn’s face heated again, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was that warm, fizzy feeling he kept getting around Jacob. “Thanks.”
And he meant it. Because Jacob didn’t say it like a line. He said it like he’d been watching Finn since he sat down, trying to understand the way Finn’s energy flickered between shy and hopeful and unsure—like a light that kept trying to shine even when it wasn’t sure it was allowed to.
Jacob didn’t look away from him, and that alone made Finn’s pulse pick up. Most people smiled, flirted, and moved on. Jacob watched him like he was trying to understand him, not enjoy the view.
Jacob tilted his head, studying him with that doctor-gentle focus that made Finn feel seen in a way that was almost too much. “You underestimate yourself.”
Finn felt heat crawl up his neck again. He wished he could stop blushing around Jacob, but his body had apparently decided that was its new hobby.
Jacob continued, “You have this energy. People gravitate toward you.”
Finn huffed a small laugh. “Or they want to drag me into card games with gangsters.”
“That too,” Jacob said, smiling. “But even then, you handled yourself. You’re resilient.”
Finn didn’t feel resilient. He felt like someone who kept stumbling into situations he wasn’t prepared for. But hearing Jacob say it, as if it were a fact, settled in his chest.
Jacob reached for his tea again. “I’m glad you’re here, Finn.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. Simple. Direct. No teasing. No agenda. Just… truth.
“Me too,” Finn said, and he meant it more than he meant most things.
Jacob’s smile deepened. “And I’m looking forward to that dance tonight.”
“I’ll save you the first one.”
Jacob’s eyebrows lifted, pleasantly surprised. “The first? I feel honored.”
“You should,” Finn said, trying for playful but sounding a little breathless.
A moment passed—comfortable, lingering. The train hummed beneath them, steady and warm, like it was carrying everyone’s secrets in its metal ribs. Outside, the world blurred into streaks of color, and for the first time all morning, Finn realized he wasn’t nervous. Not with Jacob watching him likethat, eyes soft and curious, like Finn was something worth paying attention to.
Jacob set his cup down. “Would you like to walk with me after our breakfast? I can show you around. It’s beautiful in the morning.”
Finn’s stomach tightened. Not in a bad way—just in that oh no, I have to say something real way. He twisted his napkin between his fingers. “I can’t because I’m going to meet Maurice.”
The second the name left his mouth, Finn wished he could grab it back. He felt exposed in a whole different way like he’d just admitted to cheating on a test he didn’t even know he was taking. He didn’t know how to juggle two men being interested in him. He barely knew how to handle one. And saying Maurice’s name out loud made it feel like he was doing something wrong, even though he wasn’t.
