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“Once, Foster. Just tonight.”

I close my eyes and press my lips to his.

“Finn, I’m going to need you to fuck me. And make it good.”

He makes a sound that goes straight through me.

Then his hands are on the hem of my T-shirt, and I stop thinking about anything at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

FINN

I go through the motions.

When Nikko says Fox has done another disappearing act, all I can think is that this isn’t another one. This is the one. He’s not with me, which means he’s gone.

My face might be trying its best to remain unaffected and calm, but inside, I’m anything but.

Around me, the festival keeps happening.

The mayor is now on stage adjusting the microphone. Emmett appears out of nowhere and ushers the band and me, minus Fox, up the steps to the stage. Bastian’s eyes find mine once, questioning, and I nod because if I don’t, he’s going to know something is wrong. And if he figures out that something is wrong, I will fall apart in front of the whole town.

I follow them up.

Mayor Caldwell smiles at me warmly, like he can’t tell I’ve been hollowed out in the last ninety seconds. He gestures to a spot next to him at the front, and I step into it.

“Good evening, Winterberry.”

The crowd cheers. Cups of cider go up in the front row.

“What a festival we’ve had this year.”

More cheers.

“Now, as many of you know, we had a bit of a scare a few weeks ago. A gas leak under the town square almost meant no festival at all. But this town does not give up, and we did not give up on Christmas.”

He gestures to the festival grounds around us, now filled with lights, stalls, and people, but in just a few days it’ll be returned to Bastian and Taylen.

“None of this would be possible without the incredible generosity of two families in this town. The Halls and the Howards opened their land, their time, and their hearts to make this happen. And joining them, we have four gentlemen who might be familiar to some of you.”

Laughs.

“Please welcome Bastian Hall, Stone Murphy, Nikko Crue, and…”

Small pause.

“…Fox Crue, in spirit.”

I don’t hear whatever else he says.

The crowd is applauding, and the band members take exaggerated bows. I’ve known them for years, so I know it’s a performance.

Then I hear my name.

“…and now, to the man who really pulled this off. My friend and yours, Griffin Hall.”

Applause.