Page 4 of A Hard Fit (Falling Hard #2)

The Big Bad Wolf

“Fuck,” Finn muttered.

Rory’s eyebrows pinched together. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. No. I mean…shit. I have to go.” He held up his phone, as if Rory didn’t know how texts worked. “I forgot I have a date. Henry.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Rory’s face. “Oh, right. You mentioned. Mini-golf.”

“Yeah.”

Rory stood, crumpling up the empty cotton candy bag. “Then you’d better get going.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay.” The setting sun streamed around Rory’s head like a halo. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Finn stood too, self-consciously straightening his wrinkled shorts. Rory still looked immaculate, sleek and cool in all black. “Were you going to catch the train back now, or…?”

“Nah.” They tossed the bag into a trash can. “I think I’ll go visit my parents instead. They’re not far.”

“Okay.” The day slipped from Finn’s fingers.

A breeze teased at Rory’s bangs, blowing the long strands aside. “We can schedule something to go over our notes, get some proposals together for Ilona. I’ll send you a calendar invite.”

“Sounds good,” Finn said, even though it was not good.

“Bye, Finn.”

Then Rory was only a flash of black in the brightly colored summer crowd, then gone.

* * * *

Finn’s date with Henry was…fine. Henry was cute and perfectly likable. Henry kissed him by the windmill, and offered to do quite a lot more behind the windmill, but Finn said no, thank you.

All he could think about was Rory. After he got home, he rinsed the summer salt away in the shower, then stared at his phone. He wanted to text Rory, to say thanks for the day, and suggest maybe they grab that dinner another time soon, but…no. It was nearly eleven, not the time to be texting about work. Plus, what if it didn’t really count as work? He didn’t want to make Rory feel uncomfortable. Best to wait. He checked his Breakpoint email though, in case Rory had already sent the calendar invite. But they hadn’t.

And still no invite when he got up the next morning. Or after his workout, either.

“That’s good,” Finn said to himself. “Rory has healthy work-life boundaries. I’m sure they’ll send it once they get to work.”

No invite when he checked his email in the elevator. Or when he got to his office. Still nothing by lunchtime. On his way to the staff kitchen, he turned left instead of right and happened to wander by Rory’s office.

He rapped on the frame and popped his head in.

Rory looked up, then back at the screen. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Finn leaned against the frame, then realized he probably looked like he was trying to lean, and quickly stood again. “How are you?”

“I’m good. What can I help you with?”

“Did you want to meet about the Thrill Island campaign today?”

Rory frowned and glanced over to another screen to pull up their calendar. “I got a little swamped—Ilona wants a bunch of metrics pulled for Sartini, and I have software training this afternoon and tomorrow. But I could maybe fit you in Monday?”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll send you an invite.” They went back to their big screen, fingers a blur.

Finn nodded. His stomach dropped as he turned away. Clearly he had been imagining things yesterday. Rory was all business.

Of course they were. Finn shook his head and he picked up speed striding down the hallway. What were you expecting? he growled at himself.

A few hours later, the calendar invite came for Monday afternoon. Finn made himself pause before clicking accept, as if there was dignity in those extra six seconds.

* * * *

Finn booked one of the meeting rooms close to his office in case he needed to dash back to grab any other materials. He was a few minutes early, and spread out some of the sketches he had done for Rory to look at.

He had barely seen Rory since they had spoken on Thursday, which was fine. Both of them were busy, and he was there to work, obviously. He didn’t need whatever weird electrical thing was going on with him when Rory was near. Like how when he saw Rory arriving on Friday and the humming through his veins was so distracting he nearly walked into a door. Rory’s bangs were brushed back, maybe a bit of product in them, so they fell with a curve over one side of their forehead instead of a straight line down the middle. The day was overcast and rainy, and they were wearing a sleek black coat with a high collar that made them look like they belonged in The Matrix .

Finn had spent a few free hours that weekend sketching ideas for Thrill Island, and Monday morning had stretched on endlessly before their meeting.

When Rory walked in, laptop under one arm, they froze in their tracks at the sight of Finn’s work laid out across the table.

“Finn,” Rory breathed, edging forward and reaching out to touch the paper. “These are beautiful.”

“Oh…” Goosebumps swept over him at the praise. “You like them?”

Rory leaned over, soaking up the details. “I love them.”

Finn’s cheeks flushed. “Nothing is set in stone, of course. It was just an idea I had.”

Finn had turned Thrill Island into a heist movie. Cut-outs at the entrance featured genre archetypes—the stakeout trench coat with a fedora and a newspaper, the tuxedo, the slinky evening gown, the hacker, the muscle, the getaway driver. The Thrillcoaster would be a car chase. The Disco Thrill became the diamond heist, laser beams and glittering jewels lighting up the dark. The Haunted Lagoon was called the Undercover Romantic Boat Ride.

When Rory read those words, eyes sparkling, Finn had to explain. “That’s a placeholder title, of course. I couldn't think of a better name yet.”

“It’s brilliant.” Rory shook their head. “All of it. So fun. Ilona is going to adore it.”

“Do you think it could be translated into an app?”

“Oh, yes…” Rory slid some papers to the side so they could set down their laptop. Finn reached to help and their fingers bumped. Finn nearly jumped from the spark.

Rory flipped open their laptop and logged in. “I had a few thoughts about the app,” they said, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Like a fun user profile, and look, this is perfect.” They turned the screen so Finn could see. “Users can upload a picture of their face and it’ll generate a most-wanted poster. Or even a fake passport.”

“That’s awesome.” Finn leaned over to watch Rory work, so thrilled that Rory liked his ideas, and even more thrilled about how good Rory smelled and how close they were sitting.

They brainstormed a while longer until there was a pause in the conversation as Finn sketched and Rory typed.

“So…how was your date with Henry?” Rory asked, voice light as they stared at their screen.

“Henry?” Finn blinked, confused. That date seemed like ages and ages ago. “Henry’s not—we aren’t… I’m not seeing him again.”

Rory’s fingers paused. “You’re not? That’s too bad.”

Finn shrugged, brushing eraser shavings away. “It’s fine. There wasn’t anything special there, you know?”

He raised his head to look at Rory, and his heart crashed into his ribcage when they were looking back, eyes wide.

Rory’s mouth curled in a small smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well.” Finn cleared his throat. “I, uh, better get going. I have a design meeting to finalize some stuff for the Sartini presentation.”

Rory shut their laptop and stood to help Finn collect his papers. Their fingers brushed again, and this time Finn didn’t jerk them away. They stood only inches apart as Rory slid a stack into Finn’s hands. “Amazing work, Finn.” Their eyelashes fluttered.

Something bubbled up Finn’s throat—either elation or panic, he couldn’t say which. “You too.”

“I’ll see you later.” Rory swayed toward him for a second, bringing a whiff of sandalwood with them, then they collected their laptop and slipped out of the room.

Finn sat down in a chair with a thump. He flipped through his sketches again, the smile on his face stretching wide.

* * * *

Finn had been working so hard with Rory and prepping for Sartini that he realized he had barely talked to Luka the past week. He made a point of popping into Luka’s office one morning, the day before Thomas Badgley arrived. “Do you want to grab lunch?”

“Can’t,” Luka said shortly, rifling through the papers on his desk. “I have to get these storyboards finished before the meeting with Thomas tomorrow.”

Finn frowned. “You don’t even have time to eat?”

“I have a granola bar somewhere,” Luka muttered, shoving that stack aside and moving onto the next one.

“Hey, are you okay?” Finn asked. Luka never missed a meal.

Luka stopped and looked up, smile strained. “I’m good.” Then he shifted, noticing the concern on Finn’s face. “You know what, a quick lunch would be great, actually. Thanks, Finn.”

They went to grab tacos at a food truck up the street that was fast and delicious. They perched on a planter with their lunches while Finn updated Luka on their progress with Thrill Island.

“Rory’s been amazing to work with. They have so many good ideas, and you should see how fast they can type when they really get going.”

Luka wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled as he swallowed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s great. Hey, when’s your next date?”

Finn studied his remaining taco. “Don’t have one planned.”

Luka grinned. “You don’t?”

“Nah, work’s been so busy.” Finn took a big bite.

“Mmhmm.”

“What?” Finn mumbled.

“Nothing. Thanks for the lunch break, Finny.”

* * * *

The day finally came where they would meet the legend, Thomas Badgley, a.k.a., The Big Bad Wolf, a nickname Finn had promised Ilona he would never use…where she could hear it. Finn slipped into the conference room ready for the meeting a few minutes before nine and scanned the crowd. A seat was open next to Rory.

“Morning,” he said, slipping into the chair.

Rory’s smile made Finn think of the painting he worked on the night before, a soft curve of pink that hinted at so much more. “Morning,” they replied. “How are you?”

“All right. Gotta shit ton of work to do. Hope this is short.”

Rory had their ‘they/them’ T-shirt on again under a crisp blazer. Two of their ear piercings were now connected with a small chain, threaded with delicate stars.

“Did you get that copyright issue sorted out?” Rory asked, as Finn flipped through his Sartini folder to make sure he had everything.

Finn blinked for a second, pushing an unruly curl behind his ear, then remembered mentioning it to Rory before he left last night. “Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

Their conversation was cut short when Ilona strode in. “Hello, everyone, we’ll get started now.”

Rory leaned over to mutter in Finn’s ear. “Where’s Luka?”

Finn hadn’t even noticed his friend wasn’t there. He swung his gaze around, searching, then took a quick glance at his phone to see if he had missed a text. He turned his head to reply. Rory’s lips were inches away. “I don’t know. Not like him to be late.”

Then Finn’s attention was grabbed by the man who followed Ilona into the room. So this was Thomas Badgley. Never had a nickname fit so well. Big Bad Wolf, indeed. He was stunning—there was no denying it—although a little scary-looking. His expensive suit expertly framed his thick shoulders and the rest of his muscles too, all the way down. A killer jaw, dark brown hair pulled back in a manly bun and a smooth, prowling gait completed the package.

When Thomas introduced himself and talked a bit about his background, his deep rumbling voice and stern expression did nothing to challenge Finn’s initial assessment. But the man clearly knew his shit, touching on all aspects of the Sartini campaign and delivering information in a smooth, efficient and engaging manner.

Then Thomas’ stern brow deepened into a frown when Luka burst in, catastrophically late and visibly sweating. Every head in the room whipped over to stare at him. Luka froze, an agonized smile on his face.

Shit, Finn thought, watching his friend apologize and clamber through the silent room to an open chair next to Tawney. Luka, immaculate at all times, was a disaster. His clothes didn’t match, his hair was rumpled and he even had a crust of toothpaste on one corner of his mouth. Finn tried to get his attention to subtly point out the toothpaste if nothing else, but Luka resolutely kept his eyes down. The chair screeched in the silence when he finally, finally sat.

“Well, now that Luka is settled…” Ilona said. “Please go ahead, Thomas.”

The rest of the meeting was as painful for Luka as his entrance had been. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, and, even worse, his storyboards weren’t ready when Ilona asked. Finn tried not to cringe when Luka stammered an excuse about the subway.

“Well,” Ilona said, shooting him a disapproving frown, “the design team can meet again later today. But I think the rest of us are clear on next steps. Thanks, everyone.”

Luka bolted from the room, Tawney hot on his heels. Finn followed, sticking his head into Luka’s office before Tawney could close the door. “Moreno!”

Luka sighed. “Finn.”

Finn shook his head, grinning. “Jesus.”

“So…” Luka nodded. “It was as bad as I think.”

“Worse! First of all…” He put a hand on Luka’s shoulder and studied him at arm’s length, rubbing his beard. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Luka looked down at his clothes—a forest-green blazer, burgundy trousers and a crooked yellow button-down dotted with blue flowers, topped off with a coffee stain.

“Second—”

“You know what, you can stop. I was there.” Luka yanked his blazer off while Finn snickered.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Tawney piped up.

The two men turned to stare at her.

“I mean…” she stammered. “We all know that was not usual behavior for you.”

Luka fell into his chair with a groan. “Thomas Badgley does not know that. Thomas Badgley thinks I’m a screw-up who dresses like a sloppy clown, shows up late and doesn’t meet deadlines. Could it be any worse?”

“You, um”—Tawney cringed—“actually have some toothpaste.” She pointed at the corner of her mouth. “Just here.”

“I what ?”

Then Ilona appeared in his doorway, as flawless as ever, thick raven hair cascading perfectly into place.

“You don’t even need to say it,” Luka told her, wiping at the toothpaste.

She pursed her plum lips. “Design team meeting after lunch.” She turned to go, then paused to look at him again. “That means one o’clock sharp. And can you change?”

Finn blew out a breath on Luka’s behalf as she whirled away. “What happened, man?”

Luka groaned. “I slept in, then”—he gestured at himself—“did everything else in a blind panic. And then my fucking train broke down.”

“It’ll be okay,” Tawney encouraged him. “You’ve just got to get it together for the next meeting.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, try not to fuck it up again.”

Luka shook his head, chuckling despite himself. “Great advice. Thanks, Finn.”

“You’re so welcome.” Finn’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see a text from Rory.

Is Luka okay?

“What are you smiling at?” Luka asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just…nothing.” Finn went off down the hall, whistling, in the general direction of Rory’s office.