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I kiss him, and something about it makes it feel like our first time, except now his taste is familiar, absolute. His mouth opens against mine, giving me those little sounds I love. I slide my hands down his back and pull him against me.

He tilts his hips into mine and gasps when our erections rub together. For the first time ever, there’s no pressure to take it further. We kiss and frot for the longest time, and when we pull apart, his lips are red and swollen. His eyes are glassy and even more beautiful than before.

“Can I hold you?” I ask.

His eyes soften.

“Yeah. Yes. That would be perfect.”

I roll him onto his side and settle behind him, my chest to his back, my arm across his stomach. He laces his fingers through mine on the mattress in front of him and squeezes.

We lie there in the low light.

Outside the window, snow is still falling.

Finn’s breathing slows.

I press my mouth to the back of his neck, and he hums.

“I still can’t believe you learned how to bake bread through a video call, in secret, for me.”

I laugh quietly into his hair.

“I had a lot of time on my hands.”

“It was very sweet, and I love it.”

“I would learn anything to make you happy, Griffin.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. His breath is warm against the back of my hand where I’ve curled it up under his chin. His thumb strokes slowly across my knuckles.

He sighs, and it’s the softest, most contented sound I’ve ever heard him make before his entire body relaxes into mine.

I listen to his steady, soft breathing for a while, watching the snow through the crack in the curtain, thinking about how many nights in ten years I’ve wanted to do this, and how few I actually got to.

Then, quietly, into the dark, into the warm space between the back of his head and my mouth, I whisper, “I want to marry you, Finn. I want to buy that house on the Christmas lights street. I want to make you coffee every morning. I want you to complain about the way I load the dishwasher. I want all the holidays and special occasions but also the random Thursday night movies.”

The room is very still.

I think he’s asleep.

Then, so quietly I almost miss it, and slurred like he’s on the edge of sleep, he says, “I’d like that very much.”

I close my eyes and press my mouth to the back of his neck one more time.

For the first time in ten years, I fall asleep with the absolute knowledge that Griffin Hall belongs with me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

FINN

I wake up feeling warm and rested. As I stretch, still with my eyes closed, the first thought I have is that the festival is over. I don’t have be anything for anyone.

Well…not quite.

I roll over slowly and open my eyes. Fox isn’t there, but his spot is still warm, and in an apartment as small as mine, I can hear him in the kitchen.

The sound of a mug being set down on the counter. The muffled clink of a spoon.