Finn bumped his shoulder. “See? Not stupid.”
Theo smiled. “Maybe not.”
Finn could feel the shift between them, something settling into place. Not just shared fear, but shared possibility.
And for the first time, Theo didn’t look scared of the word someday. He looked like he might actually believe in it.
They sat there for a moment, both absorbing the fact that their lives might shift in the same direction.
“Oh,” Theo said suddenly, brightening. “David told me something. He and Maurice rented two suites in San Francisco. Right next to each other. So they can talk as friends, and we can too.”
Finn laughed. “That sounds like them.”
“Right?” Theo said. “They’re like… weirdly wholesome for two guys who look like they could run a mafia.”
Finn snorted. “Accurate.”
Theo nudged him again, softer this time. “I’m glad we’re still… you know. Friends.”
“Me too,” Finn said. “I want us to be best friends like Maurice and David.”
Theo smiled, warm and genuine. “Good. Because I wasn’t ready to lose you.”
Finn felt the same way, making his chest feel full.
After a few more minutes of talking about nothing and everything, Finn stood. “I should go meet Maurice in the Welcome Car,” he said. “He’s at the bar with David.”
Theo grinned. “Go. I’ll be there after I change into more comfortable clothes.”
Finn rolled his eyes and headed out, the overhead lights giving a soft flicker as he stepped back into the hallway. On his way to the Welcome Car, he smiled as he had just secured something important. Not just Maurice. Not just the future. But Theo too.
Finn spotted Maurice at the Welcome Bar, leaning on his forearms, talking with David. There were a couple of glasses in front of them—one empty, one half-full—and David was gesturing with his hands like he was explaining something complicated and mildly annoying.
Maurice must have felt him looking, because he turned, eyes finding Finn almost immediately. That small, private smile appeared, the one that made Finn feel like the rest of the car had gone a little out of focus.
Finn walked over, weaving between a couple of stools, his nerves from earlier mostly burned off.
“How’d it go?” Maurice asked as Finn reached him, his voice low enough that it didn’t carry.
Finn slid onto the stool beside him, close enough their shoulders brushed. “Weirdly good,” he said. “He gave us his blessing. In his very Mr. Santos way.”
Maurice’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Finn said, letting himself lean in just a little. “And I told him I’d keep him updated. You know, so he knows we didn’t crash our lives after leaving his train.”
Maurice laughed, the sound warm and easy. “Guess we’ll just have to prove him right.”
Finn glanced at the window, at the blur of Northern California sliding by, then back at Maurice and the drink waiting in front of him.
“Yeah,” he said, feeling that quiet, steady certainty settle in his chest. “I think we can do that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maurice
Maurice hadn’t expected sayinggoodbye to hit him the way it did. The train had been cramped, chaotic, and full of single men eyeing Finn like he was a free sample, but it had also been the place where everything between them started. Still, stepping off it and knowing he and Finn would finally sleep in a proper bed felt like a luxury he’d been waiting years for. And thebest part? No more strangers trying to flirt with Finn every time he walked into a room. Maurice would have him to himself.
Mr. Santos insisted on taking a picture of them before they left. Maurice put an arm around Finn’s waist, Finn leaned into him, and Mr. Santos snapped the photo with a rare, almost-smile.
