Page 44 of A Hard Fit

The oven dinged.

“Leave us alone,” Finn murmured, holding Rory tight.

“Come on, the pigs are all toasty in their blankets,” Rory said, giving Finn a gentle push toward the oven.

Finn sighed. “Right. Food.” He dumped the sausages onto a plate and followed Rory with the veggies out to the snack table.

They set down the refreshed food and were collecting a few stray napkins and candy wrappers when Finn saw who was singing now.

“Oh my God.” He grinned. Rory turned to look. Luka and Thomas were performing a duet ofSummer Nightsfrom Grease.

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Rory said.

“So fucking cute.” Finn shook his head, watching them all blushy and unable to hold prolonged eye contact. He hoped he hadn’t been that obvious around Rory. Then again, what did it matter now?

Morgan stomped by like a drunken storm cloud. “You’re out of ice,” he snapped at Finn on his way to the bar.

Finn bit back a retort and instead looked at Rory. “Help me grab a few bags from the garage?”

Rory nodded and followed Finn back into the kitchen and through the door into the garage.

Finn paused before he turned the light on. “Don’t judge me.”

Just about every painting Finn had ever done was in the garage. Even his work as a kid that his grandma insisted on keeping was there, clumsy and unskilled but fiercely passionate. Finn couldn’t bear to throw them away now. Dust covers turned most of them into rectangular ghosts, leaning in piles against the walls, wedged next to broken easels and blank canvases still wrapped in paper, plus boxes of brushes and paint, and some of his grandma’s belongings he hadn’t been able to part with. Plus, of course, his weight bench and treadmill in one corner. There wasn’t room for even a toy car in this garage.

Rory took it in politely. “Wow,” they said, running a hand along a painting entitledFearthat Finn had jammed in there right before the party, losing his nerve to leave it hanging in the living room. “Look what you’ve made.”

“A fucking mess? Yeah, I know. I just don't know what to do with all of them.”

“No, not a mess.” Rory drew lines in the air. “A gallery.”

Finn snorted. “You haven’t been to many galleries.”

“You could fill one, I mean. With all of this.”

“Nah.” Finn yanked open the door of the deep freeze. “I already tried that. I didn’t sell a thing and the gallery director made me pay for the custodial crew after my opening. Here.” He handed Rory a bag of ice and took another two more for himself. “We’d better get back in there before Morgan files a complaint with HR.”

Rory ignored him. “What is this one called? It’s…got an ache to it.”

“Uh…Fear.”

Rory studied him a moment before swinging back to examine the painting again, bag of ice forgotten. A figure was curled in one corner of the canvas, surrounded by dark, oppressive shapes. “What are you afraid of?”

“Morgan singing another song.” Finn offered his hand to Rory, smiling. “Come on.”

“All right.” Rory took Finn’s hand. “I’ll let you change the subject for now…if you’ll sing a song with me.”

“I cannot sing. Like, at all.”

“Don’t care. I want to sing with you, Maverick.” Rory waited, but when an answer didn’t come, their eyes turned back to the canvas. “So,Fear, huh?”

“Damn it,” Finn grumbled. “Fine. I’ll sing with you.”

He was somewhat mollified when Rory beamed and kissed him on the cheek. “Yay! Let’s go before the ice melts.”

The accountants were singingGhostbusterswhen they went back inside to dump their ice in the drink tubs.

“There’s Luka and Thomas,” Finn said, nodding at them over in the hall by the bathroom. “Let’s go say hi.” He wanted to see Luka’s reaction when he took Rory’s hand.

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