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Finn’s shoulders shake.

“Foster Crue.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You want to make out with me in my childhood bedroom?”

“I have never once been in your childhood bedroom. It feels like an opportunity I should not miss.”

“You want to see my old posters.”

“I do.”

“They’re mostly of bands.”

“Any of them mine?”

“Absolutely not. I would rather die.”

I laugh into his neck.

Sylvie’s voice sails in from the kitchen. “Boys! Fifteen minutes!”

Finn grins.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“We’ve worked with less.”

We climb the stairs together, and nobody in the living room says a word, which for this room, from these people, might be the closest thing to a blessing I’m going to get.

I’ll take it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

FINN

One year later

The festival grounds look different this year.

Emmett and I decided sometime in the spring to keep some elements at the farm and bring others back to the town square, once the gas-line repairs were completed and downtown was back to normal.

So this year the market is back in the town square where it belongs, but the concert series and the main festival week all happen at the farm. And there are now two trees and two lighting ceremonies. It’s a hybrid that took months to plan and seems to be working perfectly.

I let out a breath when I check the last item off my clipboard.

Emmett walks past with his phone in one hand and a mug of cider in the other.

“You look human today, Boss.”

“Thank you. I have been trying.”

“Fox said you slept eight hours last night.”

“Fox is telling my personal business to strangers.”

“I am not a stranger. And also, that man tells me everything. Everything. They do say to never meet your heroes.”