“Is the key in his room?”
“Yes with him. And thank you, Finn.” Then Mr. Santos gave him a knowing look. “How is it going with Maurice?”
Finn shrugged, trying not to let the smile creeping up his face actually win. “I don’t know. We were going to talk until you stopped me.”
Mr. Santos nodded as if he already knew exactly how that conversation would’ve gone.
Once Finn was back in his room, the high from being with Maurice still buzzed under his skin, but now he had to switch gears and pack. It wasn’t hard as he didn’t own much, and he’d never fully unpacked anyway, but stuffing everything into his suitcase felt weirdly fast, like he was cleaning up the scene of a moment he wasn’t done thinking about.
As he zipped the bag, his mind kept drifting back to Maurice’s look, the warmth of him, the way Finn had almost stayed. Moving rooms shouldn’t have mattered, but he couldn’t help wondering if this would make it harder to sneak in those small moments with him.
He dragged his suitcase down the narrow hall between cars, the wheels thumping over the metal plates. The walk gave him too much time to think about Maurice, about how close they’d been, and about how badly he wanted that conversation back.
By the time he reached the next car, he’d talked himself into being fine. Probably. Mostly. He knocked on Theo’s door.
Theo opened it with red eyes, as if he’d either cried or was one sneeze away from it.
“Hey,” Theo said. “Come in.”
Finn stepped inside and set his suitcase down. The room was neat, except for a pile of tissues in the trash and a half-eaten cookie on the nightstand.
“Are you okay?” Finn hugged Theo.
“My roommate was a royal jerk.” He sat on his bed.
Finn sat beside him. “So… what happened with him? The argument?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “He said David was flirting with him. Which he wasn’t. David was just being David—polite, charming, lawyer-y. And then he accused me of trying to steal his man.”
Finn blinked. “Wait. David? Maurice’s best friend?”
“Yeah. We’ve been together a lot even had a few meals together.” Theo shrugged. “I like guys who look like they read poetry in bed.”
Finn snorted. “David looks the type that probably does.”
Theo pointed at him. “Exactly.”
They both laughed.
“I found who I want,” Theo said.
“Me too.”
Then Theo’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Speaking of hot men… what’s going on with you and Maurice?”
Finn’s face warmed. “We’re… talking later.”
Theo wiggled his eyebrows. “Talking. Sure.”
Finn threw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”
Theo hugged the pillow dramatically. “I’m just saying—he looked like he wanted to eat you alive at the Meet-a-Daddy Party.”
Finn’s stomach fluttered. “He did?”
“Oh yeah. He had that ‘don’t steal my boy’ look.”
Finn tried not to smile too hard. “We’ll see.”
