No one caught my eye. Not until?—
Finn?
Oh, fuck. Jesus. Yes, he was—that was—yeah.Finn. Like he’d been ripped straight out of my mind, half-shadowed on the edge of the crowd. My breath staggered like a drunkard on the way home, like a free-fall with both feet on the ground. He was leaning against a wall in a slightly rumpled shirt, the top four buttons undone to show off his chest.
And he was looking right at me.
Every cell in my body tripped over itself. Finn. A goddamn fever dream—that impossible mouth soft at the corners, light carving a line across his face, the gentle glint of sweat on his neck. I remembered that spot, fuck. Remembered tasting it.
Shadows dipped and flared. He was still staring at me—as if I was the only one he saw, the only one who mattered even though some guy was talking to him, leaning in close enough to makemy spine itch. I had no right. Still—Christ. I wanted toburnthe guy’s expensive jacket. Finn’s head tilted like he was pretending to listen, but his gaze stayed on me, one corner of his mouth lifting like a challenge, or a secret.
No—an invitation.
He dipped his chin, lashes like charcoal smudges—looked up through them and smiled. Just the barest hint, no more than a twitch of his mouth, but God, it landed like a punch.Come on, then.
The guy next to him touched his elbow. Finn didn’t look away from me.
Bass thumped against my ribs, pulse like static in my ears. Liquid confusion swam in my blood, leftover impressions of his shoulder pressed against mine, counting seconds in the dark, falling into a rhythm that felt like breathing.
This was a mistake. And I didn’t fucking care.
I left my glass on the bar and moved. The air shimmered with noise, something magnetic in my blood that pulled me closer to the one person I wasn’t allowed to have.
He watched me come with a smile that was small and sure and mine alone.
ELEVEN
FINN
Silence pressed in around the corners of my mind, almost physical in its weight. The apartment was too damnquiet.
Not something I’d ever thought I’d say about New York.
Now, though? Neil’s shift would keep him out until morning, and Sam’s room, door ajar, was dark but for the glow of her charging laptop. Tessa and Khai were both still working. Distant traffic hummed through the veins of the city, but it couldn’t drown out the leftover adrenaline still tugging at my chest. I needed to do…something. Sleep, except not a chance in hell. Scream, run, dance. Find someone.
I showered until the water drained some of the shake from my hands, then pulled on clothes—dark blue jeans, a spritz of cologne, and an off-white shirt, buttons open lower than I would have dared back home. This wasn’t home, though. It might be, one day. But not just yet.
Which was reason enough to at least choose a familiar bar. No eyeliner, not tonight—this wasn’t a rerun. Just something easy that didn’t force me to check reviews. Nothing to do with Jesse and the way he’d trusted me, with how earlier, my world had shrunk to him and me and the rise and fall of a tiny chest. Nothing to do with hoping he’d be there.
After all, what are the odds?
I repeated it to myself on the subway ride, a mantra or a prayer.What are the odds?
The bar was neon and noise, the floor vibrating under my feet—or maybe I was the one vibrating, couldn’t quite tell. I squeezed past grinding bodies to down a lemon drop shot, then grabbed a beer and parked myself against the wall just off the dance floor. I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. Just finishing my beer before throwing myself into the fray. Really, yeah.
A tall guy in a sleeveless tee tried his luck, then a bearded dude with glitter dusting his lashes. Neither was my type. I gave them polite smiles, nothing more, until they moved on to brighter prospects. And yeah, right, I remembered this—the slap of openwant, how it slicked the air like sweat and beer. But I’d forgotten how stark it felt to sit under this kind of spotlight, how exposed, and how easily people jumped to the next thing. I wasn’t used to it. Wasn’t wired for it, maybe.
The next guy who slid into my space was all curated scruff and buy-you-a-drink swagger. Handsome—but somehow, it left me cold. I smiled anyway because that’s what I was here for.
Itwas.
Until I looked up and Jesse was there. My pulse stuttered and went quiet.
Jesse.
Blue-tinged light from the bar dripped along the lines of his face. He hadn’t seen me yet, seemed more interested in his drink than the glances directed his way. It let me look my fill as if it had been days rather than hours—strong, slender fingers clasping the glass, a sky-gray sweater that teased more than it revealed, jeans that hugged his thighs. Holy shit. I hadn’t seen him out of scrubs since… Yeah.
His gaze swept over the room—distant, almost bored. Then his eyes found mine.
