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Finn didn’t ask for company. He pushed his chair back, put on his coat, and said, “I’m going to walk for a bit. See you tomorrow.”

I wanted to go with him. I could use some fresh air too. But I couldn’t do that because when Bastian mentioned last week that Griffin was coming to the Chicago show, I…may have been a little too enthusiastic about it, which earned me a few side looks from Bastian and Mik. My backtracking method wasn’t too convincing when I said I just wanted to ask Finn to bring my favorite maple syrup from Vermont.

Sure, maple syrup is fine, but I can count on one hand how many times a year I have it, and they know it.

So I came up to my suite and did not follow him.

I wonder if he’s back yet.

He’s supposedly staying on Bastian’s pull-out couch tonight. But it’s after midnight, and I haven’t heard the elevator ding on our floor or anyone go past my door.

Maybe he’s still walking, or he found a bar. He’s a young, single guy on a trip away from home. It wouldn’t take him long to find someone willing to hook up.

Fuck.

I hate the way my stomach twists at the thought of Finn hooking up with some random guy in a bar or club in Chicago.

Not that I have any claim on him. He’s just Bastian’s little brother, who happens to be extremely off-limits.

And yet, here I am. Ten past midnight, watching the streetlights and wondering if he’s kissing somebody in a bar right now.

I rub my face with both hands and then pick up my phone.

Bastian’s name is at the top of my recent chats. I open it. Start to type.

Did Griffin make it back to your suite? Just checking, since the city’s not the safest at night and

I delete it and start again.

Hey, is your brother back? He said he was walking, so I just want to make

Delete.

You up? Just wondering if

Delete.

I throw my phone on the couch and press my palms against my eyes.

I am thirty-five-fucking-years old, and I’m sitting in a hotel room at midnight, trying to figure out how to ask my best friend if his baby brother is safely tucked into a pull-out bed one floor away because I’m what, jealous?

A knock at the door makes me jump. I rush to it because if it’s Bastian saying Finn hasn’t come back to the hotel and he’s worried, I’m getting dressed in three seconds flat and going out searching.

I open it without looking through the peephole and come face-to-face with Finn.

His coat is over one arm. His hair is windswept. His cheeks are pink, and he’s smiling at me with glassy eyes.

“Foooox.” He steps into the room without waiting to be invited, and I close the door behind him.

“How did you know which room I’m in?”

“You always take one at the end of the hallway.”

Oh.

“Okay.”

He turns and faces me. Drops his coat over the back of the chair I’ve been sitting in and then points at me with one finger, slightly wobbly, and I brace for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth.