Page 27 of A Hard Fit

“—after which they asked you todinner—” Luka paused, waiting for Finn's counter-argument. There was none. “And then you went bike riding all day—how adorable isthat?”

“It was just a bike ride,” Finn mumbled.

Luka’s look was withering. “That was a date.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

Luka ticked off a point on his fingers. “Did you get food?”

“Um…”

Another tick. “Did you hug at the end?”

Finn pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”

Luka’s grin was massive and annoying. “Did you, or did you not, smell their hair during said hug?”

Finn glared.

“That’s what I thought. Dating.” Luka took a smug bite of his pasta.

“So are you and Thomas practically dating then?” Finn asked, hoping Luka would take the distraction bait. “You guys are together all day in your tiny little office.” Thomas had taken over one arm of Luka’s desk instead of getting his own space, and Finn knew for a fact there was an available office by the conference room.

“I do notwantto date him,” Luka said primly. “He is my boss. Plus he is definitely not interested. Which is fine, because I would have to be insane to pursue him. Because he is my boss. So…no.”

“I’ve never been more convinced,” Finn said.

* * * *

At the next staff meeting, there were a few minutes on the agenda for Finn to talk about the upcoming fundraiser. “Don’t forget, the ‘5K for Hope’ is this Sunday,” he announced from the head of the table. “If you have any donations that weren’t online, you can bring the cash and pledge forms with you. The run itself starts at nine, so please try to be there by eight-thirty. I’ll have your shirts for you tomorrow. And”—he turned to Luka—“I need to congratulate Moreno who, once again, has raised the most money in the office.”

“Oh.” Luka hunched his shoulders as the room applauded. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Finn insisted, resisting the urge to check and make sure Thomas was listening. “That money will make a difference to people with cancer. You did a great job.” Luka’s charm was a highly effective fundraising tool.

“Do you need any help with anything?” Rory asked him after the meeting. “Now, or on Sunday or…?”

“Sure.” Finn’s heart fluttered. “If it’s not too much trouble, I could use some help with setup or takedown?”

“I can do both. What time do you want me?”

Finn coughed. “Seven-thirty would be great.”

* * * *

Sunday dawned bright and clear, although a late September chill frosted the grass. The leaves were a dance of autumnal colors, gold and burnt orange and apple red against the cloudless sky. Finn carried a bin of supplies from his truck over to their assigned team table, then began unpacking, trying to focus on the task and not looking around to see if Rory had arrived yet.

Then there they were, in sunglasses and damp hair, walking over from the parking lot carrying two coffees. Rory wore their usual jeans, plus a cozy black hoodie Finn hadn’t seen before, featuring a band he’d never heard of.

“You’ve got me in my running shoes again, Finn,” they said, handing over one of the cups. “That’s twice in as many weeks. Who even am I anymore?”

Finn chuckled. “Thanks,” he said, toasting Rory with the cup. “Maybe next week we can play racquetball.”

Rory laughed. “How’d you know? My favorite of all the racquet sports.”

Finn smiled and took a slow sip, savoring the warmth and rich flavor. “Mmm, this is good.”

“Dark roast, black,” Rory said.

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