Maurice leaned back, taking him in—this sweet, funny, unexpectedly bold man who kept surprising him. “They suit you.”
Finn’s blush deepened, but he didn’t look away. “You suit me.”
The words hit Maurice like a soft punch to the ribs. He wasn’t used to hearing things like that. He wasn’t used to wanting to hear them again.
Dinner passed in a blur of flirting and tender moments. Finn kept looking at him like he was something worth admiring, and every time, it made something inside him loosen.
As soon as the check was paid, Maurice flagged down a cab and hauled them inside, the city lights streaked across the windows as they sped back toward the station. Finn leaned against him, loose from dinner and wine, and Maurice had been riding the same thrill all night.
“Wait.” Maurice tapped the glass. “Stop here.”
Finn blinked. “What for?”
Maurice pointed at a bright little souvenir shop wedged between a bakery and a bookstore. “We’re not leaving Chicago without something ridiculous.”
Finn laughed. “Lead the way.”
Inside, the shop was cramped and loud, packed with magnets, mugs, and shirts in every shade of touristy. Maurice made a beeline for a rack of T-shirts and held one up.
A black tee with bold white letters: ‘I ?? Chicago.’
Finn snorted. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Maurice grabbed a second one. “Matching. Obviously.”
Finn’s smile softened in that way that hit Maurice right in the chest. “Okay… yeah. I want that.”
They were heading toward the register when someone called out, “Well, well, look who’s here.”
Maurice turned to see David and Theo standing by a display of snow globes. David held up the same shirt that Maurice was holding.
“You too?” David asked, grinning.
Theo lifted his bag. “We’re committing to the bit.”
Maurice laughed. “Great minds.”
Finn nudged Theo’s shoulder. “We’re all going to look like a very confused boyband.”
“Speak for yourself,” David said. “I’m the lead singer.”
After David and Maurice paid, bags rustling they stepped back into the Chicago air. The four of them walked together toward the station, the city buzzing around them, the train lights glowing in the distance like a promise.
Finn brushed his hand against Maurice’s as they walked. Maurice grabbed then held his hand. This easy unexpected closeness between them was something he wanted to keep.
Chapter Eighteen
Finn
Finn and Maurice founda quiet spot in the hallway, the train humming beneath their feet. Finn’s pulse was still a little wild from dinner, from the way Maurice kept looking at him like he was something worth holding onto.
“I’ll see you at the dance tonight. Remember to mingle,” Maurice said, brushing a thumb over Finn’s knuckles.
“It’s going to be difficult,” Finn admitted.
Maurice took Finn’s hand and placed it over his heart. “Finn, you’re inside here. Remember that.” His gaze grew tender. “Do you want to meet in my room after the dance?”
“Yes.”
