Page 6 of A Hard Fit

Luka grabbed another handful of paper towels, and the three of them got the spill cleaned up quickly.

As he stood, Finn’s pinky finger tingled from when it brushed against Rory’s hand.

“Thanks,” Rory said, rubbing the back of their neck. “I’m not normally so clumsy.”

Finn shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

Rory flicked their hair back and smiled with the crinkly eyes again. “Thanks for your help. Have a nice day, you two.”

“You too.” Finn watched Rory leave, then finally got his coffee and followed Luka back down the hall.

“You okay?” Luka asked after a few beats of silence, giving Finn a sidelong look.

“Yeah, fine, why?” Finn’s cheeks were still hot.

“I don’t know, you seem…off.”

Finn walked faster. “I’m fine. Not off. I’m on.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause that’s a normal thing to say.”

Finn was thankful for the distraction when he noticed a petite, angular blond man hovering outside Luka’s office. “Don’t you have some work to do, Moreno? Morgan’s waiting for you.”

Luka groaned and muttered under his breath, “Of course he is.”

“Been around a lot lately. Maybe he likes you.” Finn waggled his eyebrows.

Luka sighed. “He does not. Trust me.”

Finn left Luka to deal with Morgan, the snippy composer, and tried to calm his thrumming heart. Each beat echoed through his body—Rory, Rory, Rory.

* * * *

Arriving home that night, Finn dumped his portfolios and laptop bag onto the kitchen table with a thump and made a beeline for his fridge.

He lived in an older part of town in a sunflower-yellow bungalow that showed the love and attention Finn had put into it since he’d moved to Oakport. The house had been his grandma’s and was about the only thing of worth he had inherited from his family, aside from his red hair and artistic abilities. He enjoyed the ritual of mowing the lawn every Saturday morning through the spring and summer, raking the leaves in the fall and even shoveling his front walk and driveway in the winter.

He had redone the inside of the house too, but tried to retain the funky, vintage vibe with wood paneling, an avocado-green couch, ceramic lamps and his grandma’s dining room table. His art hung all around the house too, since no one else was going to display it.

The beer went down nice and smooth as he rummaged around for the ingredients for a quinoa salad. He cranked up a seventies playlist and slid into a comforting rhythm, washing, peeling, chopping as his thoughts drifted.

Well, not so much drifted as tornado-ed.What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I acting like a fourteen-year-old with a crush around Rory? Why do they make me feel like my heart is about to explode?Finn was used to being comfortable in any room, around any people. Smoldering sex appeal didn’t throw him off—it just made him horny. But there was something about Rory’s gentle aura and soft smiles that turned him into an awkward, tongue-tied idiot.

A silly crush,Finn told himself as he fluffed the quinoa.No big deal.It’ll fade. Right?

Right.

* * * *

“How was your date?” Luka asked Monday morning. The department heads were gathered around the conference room table waiting for a staff meeting to start.

Finn couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking over to Rory, who was a couple seats away from him and Luka. “Fine.”

Luka huffed. “Fine? That’s all I get? ‘Fine’?”

“Also…good?” Finn offered.

Luka leaned in to murmur, “Were you right about…?”

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