Page 3 of A Hard Fit (Falling Hard #2)

Thrill Island

Finn threw himself into his work. Sketching, coloring, checking in with his team, calling clients…pretending he didn’t see the looks Luka was giving him whenever Rory was in the room. But mostly ignoring the adrenaline crashing through his veins whenever he saw Rory—or thought about Rory.

Trying to ignore it, anyway.

He was standing in a meeting room with a few other designers, watching a competitor’s new dog food commercial.

“This is shit,” Finn said, hands on hips, tilting his head, trying to get his thoughts around what the fuck they had been thinking. “First of all, that dog isn’t even that cute.”

“Finn!” Tawney protested.

“What? You can’t tell me that’s the cutest dog they could find.”

“It’s cute,” Tawney said firmly.

“Debatable. But—” Finn paused the video. “What’s with this shot? Why are the dogs eating their dog food on a beach? Who takes a bowl of dog food to the beach? Plus the composition.” He shook his head. “It’s half sky. Total shit.”

Then Rory slipped into the room and it was like hitting a brick wall. “And the, uh…” Finn continued. “The…um…”

“Rory!” Tawney said. “Would you say this dog is cute?”

Rory studied the screen. “Of course. What kind of monster would say this dog isn’t cute?”

Tawney snickered. “Finn, actually.”

Fuck. His face did its usual searing burn. “I never said it wasn’t cute.” His tongue tripped over itself. “I just said it…wasn’t the cutest.”

Rory’s eyes twinkled. “Like I said, monster.”

The feeling was terrifying, the way his brain short-circuited, rendering him wordless, the way his heart beat so furiously he was worried it was going to give out. And it was all pointless, because Finn knew Rory would never be interested in someone like him.

Rory was quiet—Finn was loud.

Rory was careful—Finn was brash.

Rory was elegant, graceful, delicate. Finn was a blunt edge, smashing his way through life, saying dumb things about dogs when he wasn’t tripping over his own tongue. Breakpoint discouraged employees dating anyway, thanks to an ugly situation a few years back, but even if they didn’t, the two of them could clearly never happen.

“Hey,” Finn mumbled when he had to stop at Rory’s office Tuesday morning. It was cool, sleek and tidy, all screens and hidden wires, dim lighting and the scent of lemongrass and sandalwood. Finn’s office had more of a post-apocalyptic aesthetic—sketch pads, mock-ups, storyboards, color swatches, fabric samples, splayed throughout in piles of chaos, although Finn knew where everything was…roughly.

Rory looked up from their biggest screen, a dizzying array of numbers, and smiled when they saw Finn.

“I just got a call from Ilona,” Finn said. “She asked to see us in her office when we had a moment. Is now good?”

“Oh, sure. Give me one second…” Rory’s fingers flew over the keyboard in a satisfying hum, then they locked their screens and stood to follow Finn. “Do you know what she wants?” they asked as they began to make their way to Ilona's office.

Finn shook his head, a whiff of sandalwood following him down the hall. “She said something about a new client.”

Ilona’s assistant, Sabrina, waved them through when they arrived.

“Finn, Rory, please come in,” Ilona said from behind her ruthlessly tidy desk. “How are things, Rory? Feeling settled in?”

“They’re great, thanks,” Rory said. “Everyone has made me feel really welcome.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. Now, the reason I called you in… Have you been to Thrill Island lately?”

Finn blinked. Not the direction he was expecting this conversation to take. “Never.”

Ilona looked surprised. “You’ve never been to Thrill Island?”

“Nope. I didn’t grow up here.” He’d never been anywhere as a kid, and his mom certainly couldn’t afford a trip to Thrill Island for the family. The old amusement park sat on an actual island near the Oakport harbor, but its best days were behind it. It looked faded and sad to Finn now. He’d thought about checking it out a couple times since arriving, but ultimately the promise of creaky roller coasters and stale popcorn didn’t appeal to him.

“How about you, Rory?” Ilona asked.

“Not since I was a teenager,” they replied.

“Well, I have a new project that I’d like the two of you to head.” She looked at Finn’s expression. “I know, I know, you’re busy, Sartini is ramping up, but Thomas will be here soon to help with the load, and I think this one will actually be a lot of fun. Thrill Island is rebranding. Admissions have been way down, their website launch failed and they’ve reached out to us. They want a new look, new app, better online experience for customers. They’ve really fallen behind and are paying for it. So”—she smiled brightly—“I would like the two of you to spend the day there. Tomorrow, if you can. Take it all in, get inspired, see what’s missing and find the spark that’s going to get families to show up. Yeah?”

Finn pictured the teetering stack of files on his desk…then imagined working closely with Rory, beginning with a paid day at an amusement park. “You bet. Sounds fun.”

Rory nodded too. “Of course.”

“Terrific. Connect with Sabrina, and she’ll give you your tickets and a credit card for expenses. We’ll talk when you get back. Can’t wait to hear your ideas!”

* * * *

Finn met Rory at the central station downtown Wednesday morning to hop onto the line that would take them to Thrill Island. It was a warm day, another gasp of late summer, so Finn wore a forest-green tank top and long gray shorts, paired with slip-on running shoes. Rory was—as expected—all in black. A low-cut V-neck tee, black jeans, black boots and the same glimmer of silver piercings in their ears and nose. A tattoo curled over Rory’s delicate collarbone, feathers or a wing of some sort. The vines wound down their left arm. The other arm had a sword peeking out from under their sleeve, and script along their inner forearm that read ‘You feel it, don’t you?’

“You look hot,” was the first thing Finn said. “I mean, not hot —shit. You look like you’ll be hot. Not that you’re not hot. Fuck.”

Rory laughed. “Hi. You look hot, slash not hot, too.” Their eyes crinkled. “Nice and cool in that shirt, I mean.”

“Oh.” Finn looked down at this tank top. It was the fourth shirt he had tried on that morning. Luka said he looked good in that shade of green. “Thanks.” God, why did I say ‘thanks—’that was not actually a compliment. He resisted the urge to facepalm.

They made their way through the tail end of the morning commute crowd to their gate. Their ride wouldn’t be long, but the train was fairly busy, as office buildings stretched all the way from the downtown core along to the eastern side of the harbor before giving way to industrial buildings.

“So, four years at Breakpoint,” Rory said once they settled, knee only an inch away from Finn’s. “And you’re happy there?”

“Yeah.” The train lurched into motion. Finn tried to ignore the jolt when their knees bumped. “Mostly. I mean, I love the design part of it. The art. Sometimes the clients not so much.”

Rory chuckled. “I’ll bet.”

“You know, when you recommend this font, but they insist they want that font, then once they see it, they want the one you suggested in the first place? Or they get mad cause you didn’t read their mind or they didn’t actually know what fucking color ‘cyan’ is?”

Rory laughed. “I don’t have to deal with clients much, usually. I’m the one in the back Quasimodo-ing over my keyboards. I was kind of excited to be sent ‘into the field,’ as they say.”

This time their shoulders brushed over a particularly uneven corner. Finn’s heart skittered.

“And how long have you been in Oakport?” Rory asked.

“Just over four years. I moved here when my grandma died. She left me her house. And then Ilona hired me.”

“I’m sorry about your grandma.”

An unexpected pang hit Finn. “Thanks. I didn’t see her much—my mom was…is pretty toxic…” He trailed off, not wanting to peel off that particular scab in front of Rory. “Anyway. What about you?”

“Born and raised, actually. I’ve been working for my parents doing IT and data analysis since I was about twelve. I was ready to move on.”

“Were they okay with you leaving?”

Rory gave a rueful chuckle. “They said they understood, but…I think they were sad. And it was hard to walk away, to be honest. Pretty much the whole family works there.”

Another shoulder bump, with a whiff of sandalwood. “Do you have a big family?”

“Yup. Mom, dad, two brothers and a sister, plus tons of aunts and uncles and cousins. My parents both come from big families, and they almost all still live here.”

Finn nodded, wondering what that would be like. Growing up, it had been him, his mom and his sister. His mom had pissed off or otherwise cut off every other living relative they had, not that there were a lot of them out there. He’d never even met his dad.

The train rattled, and this time their shoulders and their knees brushed together. But when the train shifted again, their knees stayed touching. Finn started sweating. The tank top was not cool enough.

“What made you choose Breakpoint?” Finn asked, happy he managed to ask a normal question despite his dancing heart.

“My parents’ plant makes rebar. Not the most exciting thing, you know? I liked the idea of working for a company with a creative side, with lots of types of people working there. Artists and such. Like you.”

“Oh, well…” Finn blushed. “I’m not exactly an artist.”

Rory shot him a surprised look. “Of course you are. Designing is art. Plus, I’ll bet you do other stuff outside of work.”

“I just…paint, a little.”

Rory’s smile sparkled. “Sounds like an artist to me, Finn. What kind of painting?”

Finn’s face got hotter. He didn’t talk to a lot of people about his art anymore. “Er, acrylic on canvas, mostly. Abstract expressionism.”

Rory looked absolutely enchanted for some reason. “I’d love to see your work someday.”

“Oh, uh. It’s only…” The only place his art hung was his house. Shit. Do I invite them over? Is that weird? “I’m not that good.”

They were saved by the doors sliding open and a gang trooping in, two women with a stroller each and five small kids, squealing and giggling and climbing on the seats.

Finn wondered, briefly, what his sister’s kids would think of Thrill Island, then pushed that thought from his mind. “Wouldn’t it be cool,” Finn said instead, “if the Thrill Island experience began on the train? Like there’s a countdown— ‘three stops until the thrill begins’ or something.”

“That’s a great idea,” Rory said. “Build up the excitement.”

Finn pulled out his phone to take some notes, and they bounced ideas back and forth a little longer until the train pulled into their station. They hopped off with the moms and their pack, and only a trickle of other people. Granted, it was a Wednesday and school was back in session, but Finn had still been expecting decent crowds.

The first thing they saw was the front gates. ‘THRILL ISLAND’ the sign screamed at them, in a cheesy ‘slasher’ font with faded red letters. Otherwise, the entrance was unremarkable. The view of the harbor was wasted—nothing but lampposts, garbage cans and railings leading up to the ticket booth, and a few dreary gulls circling in the breeze.

“So.” Finn blew out a breath. “There’s work to do.”

“It should be exciting when they get off the train,” Rory agreed.

“Imagine, like, a selfie-station…signs for the rides, those things where you put your face in the cutout, all with the ocean view behind you.” Finn took a few pictures and added to his notes.

Once they were inside, it didn’t get much more impressive.

“They went for ‘thrill’ as in ‘scary’ with the logo, but once you get inside, nothing is really ‘thrilling,’ is it?” Rory asked.

“Not really.” Finn shook his head as he took a few more photos. “What should we do first?”

“I don’t know,” Rory said, turning in a circle. “What do you think?”

“The big rides first? Since those lineups get longer as the day goes on.”

“The Thrillcoaster it is!”

The signature roller coaster was a great ride—three loops and plenty of scream-inducing corners and drops. They went on it twice before a line started to form.

“Okay, that was an awesome coaster,” Finn said at the exit, heart pounding from the adrenaline instead of Rory, for once.

“Amazing,” Rory agreed. “And your hair is awesome, too.” They laughed and reached up like they were going to touch it, but paused a few inches away. “It’s got even more life than usual.”

Finn chuckled and raked his hand through his curls, even though that probably made it worse. “Yeah, there is not enough product in the world for my hair once gravity is no longer working for me.”

Rory’s eyes glinted. “I like it.”

Now the heart pounding was from Rory again. “What’s next?”

They tackled the ‘Disco Thrill,’ a smaller roller coaster that ran partly indoors in the dark, aside from the disco balls and mirrors casting rainbow light across the tracks. Next was the Ferris wheel, a ride that faced the ocean and actually made use of the view. The sun sparkled off the peaks in flashes of white, the far edge of harbor green in the distance, low hills climbing up to a crystal blue sky.

“So beautiful,” Finn said, when their car stopped at the top.

“It really is,” Rory agreed. “I need to get outside more. I feel like I miss a lot behind my screens all the time.”

Finn took a breath, the salt air curling deep into his lungs. “Same. Sometimes I think about, like, finding a cabin in the woods with no Wi-Fi, setting up my easel outside and just painting for days.”

“That sounds perfect. You should do that.”

Finn turned to look at Rory. Their eyes met, held… “I should.”

Then the car jerked into motion again, and they began their descent.

All the rides had lineups now, but the one for the ‘The Haunted Lagoon’ wasn’t too long. The boats wound along a canal through a graveyard, weeping willow tunnels shading them from the heat of the day. Tombstones peeked out from the tall grass, while a few robotic crows perched on top, cawing at them.

“It doesn’t feel very haunted, does it?” Rory asked, reaching to trail their fingers in the water speckled with leaves from the trees. “It’s sort of…romantic.”

Finn pointed. “There’s a skeleton arm poking out of that grave.”

“I like skeletons,” Rory said, gaze following their fingers through the water. “Still romantic.”

Finn shifted and took out his phone for more notes. “So…the Haunted Lagoon also needs work.”

It was lunchtime when they were back on dry land. “Hope you’re hungry,” Finn said, flashing the office credit card.

“Extra hungry, in fact.” Rory patted their stomach.

They found the food court, which only had one counter offering the basic park food. “We should probably try as much as we can, right? Get a feel for what we’re working with?” Finn asked.

“I think it’s our responsibility,” Rory said.

They got a hot dog, a burger and nachos then split it all in half. Finn got a chocolate milkshake, Rory strawberry. They spread their food out before them on a round metal table under a sun-beaten red-and-white-striped umbrella.

“So whereabouts do you live?” Rory asked, going for the nachos first.

“On Black Bear Drive,” Finn said. “Down past the old high school.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that area.” Rory nodded, wiping their mouth with a napkin. “My aunt lives on Cougar.”

Finn picked up his milkshake and snickered. “Cougar, you say?”

“I know.” Rory chuckled, reaching for another loaded chip. “She is a bit of a cougar, too. The jokes write themselves.”

“Where do you live?” Finn asked.

“An apartment downtown. Well, I say downtown. It’s suburb-adjacent. The Southern Horizon buildings?”

“Oh, nice.”

“It’s okay.” Rory shrugged. “My parents tried to pay for a bigger place by the water but I said no thanks.”

“Wow.” Finn wondered what that would be like, to have parents not only offering to buy their kid an expensive apartment, but giving a shit where they lived in the first place.

“It’s small, but there’s enough room for me and my gear. Just.”

“Gear?”

“Oh, all my computers and stuff.”

“Ah, I get it. I have a room full of paintings, plus the garage.”

“Are you working on anything right now?”

Finn’s phone buzzed. “Sorry, one sec,” he said, looking at the screen. His sister was calling. “What the fuck does she want?” he muttered, then stuffed it back in his pocket.

Rory watched him. “You don’t want to answer that? I can wait.”

“Nope,” was all Finn said. Nope, nope, nope. Liz only called when she wanted something—money, usually, a logo for her new ‘business’ or maybe to lay a guilt trip because he hadn’t called Mom on her birthday—and he was not in the mood. “It’s just my sister, and it’s never worth answering.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.” Finn took a bite of hamburger, trying to push thoughts of her out of his head. Silence fell as they chewed.

“The food is actually pretty good, isn’t it?” Rory asked, after swallowing their next bite. “The nachos are yummy.”

“Agreed.” Finn lifted his cup. “And this milkshake borders on life-changing.”

“Maybe we should have done all the spinny rides before lunch, though,” Rory said, studying another loaded nacho chip.

“Oof.” Finn put his milkshake down again. “Good point. Let’s do the Haunted Lagoon again next so we can digest.”

They went on every ride at least once, including the Thrilloscope and the Ziller, without incident, then checked out the arcade and gift shop for a burst of mid-afternoon air conditioning. When the sun was dipping toward the horizon, the light thick and golden, they sat on a bench, windswept and sun-warmed, a bag of cotton candy between them.

Finn leaned back, arm along the bench behind Rory, another piece of pink fluff disappearing on his tongue. He closed his eyes, the salt breeze lifting a languid curl off his cheek. The plastic bag rustled as Rory reached for the last piece of cotton candy.

Good day.

His phone and his brain were full of ideas, and his heart was full of Rory. The way they didn’t mind waiting in line, limbs loose and patient leaning against a railing. The way their eyes lit up each time gravity released them from its grip. The way they laughed easily and generously at Finn’s jokes and silly observations, and…those eyes crinkling, with a warmth and sweetness that reached out and held Finn in a way he’d never felt before.

“Such a fun day,” Rory said, with a happy sigh.

Finn opened his eyes to meet Rory’s. His heart threatened to burst. “It really was.”

Rory studied the pink wisp in their fingers. A pause. A head flick. “I was wondering…did you want to grab some dinner somewhere on the way home? We could keep talking about our ideas while everything is still fresh—”

Finn’s phone buzzed, and he had it out of his pocket before Rory’s invitation could sink in. “Dinner?” he said. Dinner with Rory ?

He glanced at his screen as he processed. It was a text. From Henry.

Hey Finn, I’m running a little behind, but I should only be a couple minutes late. Excited for mini-golf! See you soon!

Henry? Finn frowned, then it clicked into place.

Henry!

Fuck.