Page 2 of A Hard Fit

“U State, you?”

“Bryerson.”

“I dated a couple from Bryerson once.” Finn remembered it fondly.

Luka quirked his brow. “Like…at the same time?”

Finn shrugged. “Not exactly. I went out with her first a few times, and then him, but when he brought me home, she showed up.”

Luka grimaced. “Awkward.”

The grin stretched across Finn’s face. “It was at first, but then we had a threesome.”

Luka almost choked on his drink. “How did that go?”

“It became a bit of a competition between the two of them to see who could get me off first, so…really, really good.”

Luka’s laugh warmed Finn’s heart. He laughed a lot at all of Finn’s dumb jokes.

They swapped stories with not a single lull or awkward pause in the conversation the whole night until the place was closing and the owner was glaring at them from behind the bar. There was a moment, though, watching Luka lick a stray drop of beer off his lip, when Finn realized there was no zing, no lustorlove. But there was a lot of laughter and warmth and the beginnings of friendship, and that felt exactly right.

Toward the end of the evening, Luka asked Finn for his hair-care regimen. Finn did have the softest, shiniest hair around, and he spent a decent chunk of money on products to keep it that way. He couldn’t leave those curls to their own devices.

“That would be telling,” Finn said, narrowing his eyes at Luka. “Can’t have you stealing my Sexiest Guy at the Office crown. Shiny hair might push you over the top.”

Luka stuck out his lower lip. “Pretty please? I’ll be your best friend.”

Finn only paused for another second before giving up his secret. Luka ordered the whole product line right then on his phone.

Finn didn’t mind if his new friend had hair just as shiny as his.

* * * *

So the dating continued, for a year, then two, then more. There were lulls where he didn’t bother with the app as much, ignoring the notifications, spending more time with Luka or at the gym, or on his painting or charity work. He even took up the guitar at one point. Other times it was a whirlwind. Remy. Sonja. Wu. Benjamin. But no matter how many dates he went on, it was just a string ofnot for me, no way in hell,andare you fucking kidding me?,plus oneoh shit, should I be calling the police right now?

Tonight’s date was with Tiana, a pretty nurse with a four-year-old daughter and a dry sense of humor in her profile that made Finn chuckle. Finn had chosen a place he’d never been to before—an imposing wine bar with black and scarlet walls and gothic accents. He and Tiana had agreed to meet at the main bar, so, a few minutes early, he settled onto a stool to wait.

When the bartender asked if he could get a drink started, Finn glanced at the time. Tiana was only a couple minutes late at this point, but why not? He ordered a glass of the Sartini Courbis and relished the first sip as it tingled over his taste buds. At least if the date sucked, it sucked over top of a truly stellar glass of wine.

He finished it off examining the wall of fancy wine bottles behind the bar, gaze drifting down the collection of gold and silver labels. At the far end, where the bar turned to meet the wall, his gaze landed on a person sitting alone. The buzz that swept over Finn left the tingle from the wine in the dust.

The person had a lean, compact frame, with toned biceps revealed by short black sleeves. The T-shirt read ‘they/them’ in white letters across the chest. Straight black hair fell onto their forehead but was shaved short on the sides. Tattoos wound down both arms, with two piercings glittering on the ear Finn could see, and one in their nose.

Finn’s heart pounded. The person suddenly glanced up, but Finn dropped his eyes before they could meet, face flushing. Shit, how much wine had he chugged? He dared to risk another quick look, but the person’s attention was drawn by a man who had arrived and was leaning up against the bar right next to them.

Finn narrowed his eyes as he studied the intruder. At first, he couldn’t make out anything the man was saying, but his body language—broad gestures, swaying on his feet and listing right into the other person’s space—screamed ‘drunk.’

The person in black nodded politely a few times, then began to study their phone. As the one-sided conversation went on, Finn could tell by the tightness in their jaw and shoulders they were not enjoying the attention.

The drunk man’s voice was growing louder, then, as he put his hand on their shoulder and tugged, his words reached Finn. “Hey! I’m tryna talk to you!”

Finn was on his way. He didn’t hit the gym every single morning for nothing. He was at the end of the bar in less than a breath, inserting himself into the drunk man’s space.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” he asked, voice deep and authoritative.

The man slid his gaze over to Finn, blurry and unfocused.Reallydrunk.

“Nah,” the man said. “Jus’ chatting with my frien’ here.”

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