Page 6 of A Hard Fit (Falling Hard #2)

5K

There was no getting around it.

Finn wanted Rory.

Craved them. Was, honestly, a bit obsessed with them. Whether he was fiddling with fonts, brushing paint across a canvas, rattling in plastic seats on the train, working up a sweat in the gym or working up a sweat in other ways, Rory was never far from the forefront of his brain.

But it was a ridiculous idea. Obviously. The two of them were nothing alike, and hitting on Rory, putting them in a position where they had to reject a coworker, could only lead to hurt feelings and a painful work environment. Thrill Island? More like Curl Up and Die-land.

But still.

Rory.

Maybe it was okay if this feeling sat in his heart a while. He didn’t have to do anything about it. It would just be a…respectful infatuation. Subtle. Contained, and quickly, before anyone else figured it out.

He needed to talk to Luka.

Finn’s leg bounced under his desk all morning, but he avoided bugging his friend until it was almost lunch time. When he reached to open Luka’s office door, it swung wide and he nearly collided with Thomas who was striding out.

“Excuse me,” Thomas muttered.

“No problem.” Finn scooted in and shut the door in Thomas’ face.

“Finn!” Luka seemed flustered, cheeks pink.

“What?” He dropped into his chair. It was the temperature of Thomas’ ass. Blech.

Luka’s brow furrowed. “That was rude.”

“Nah.” Finn leaned back, running his hands through his hair. “Thomas is a busy, important man, places to be. He’s already forgotten it.” His brain whirred, trying to find the words he could say to Luka about the mess swirling inside.

Luka continued. “I just don’t know if closing the door in the new VP’s face is really the best move.”

Finn scratched his beard. It wasn’t that he really thought Luka would blab to anyone, but what if he was too obvious around Rory with his winks and nudges? What if he actually said something to Rory, thinking he was doing Finn a favor? Finn’s insides contorted themselves imagining it. Rory would try to be nice when faced with Finn’s crush, of course, since they were so sweet, but—

“Can I help you?” Luka asked in the lengthening silence.

“Look.” Finn scrubbed his face and plunged in. “About…Rory.” His cheeks burned, giving him away yet again.

Luka fought a smile. “Yes?”

“I’m not—It’s…” He took a deep breath and smoothed his trousers, then looked up at Luka. “You won’t say anything, will you?”

Luka softened. “No. But if you really feel that way, you should.”

Finn scoffed. “What would Rory ever want with me? They’re so…gentle and quiet and sweet, and I…” He trailed off. I’m none of those things. Then he realized Luka was watching him, all smug and shit, and scowled again. “Anyway, like you’re one to talk.”

“What does that mean?” Luka’s voice climbed, fingers jumping to fiddle with a stack of papers.

“Why’s your face so red, eh?” Finn grinned. “I’ve seen the way you look at the Wolf.”

Luka’s jaw dropped, then he snapped it shut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Thomas is my boss. And it’s red because I shat the bed and the storyboards are garbage. We have to redo them all.” He waved an arm over the pile on his desk.

“What?” Finn furrowed his brow. “Thomas said they were garbage?” If that was the case, there was something seriously wrong with Thomas.

“Well, no.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he talked to Aleandro and we need to go in another direction.”

“So?” Finn shrugged. Classic Luka. Spiraling for nothing. “You did the work based on the information we had at the time. Now we know more, so we adapt.”

Luka blinked at him. “I guess.”

“Just means more time working with him,” Finn teased.

“ Anyway ,” Luka said, blushing further. “Speaking of work…” He gestured to the stacks of paper on his desk.

“Yeah, yeah,” Finn muttered, getting to his feet. “I know, ‘Fuck off, Finn.’” He paused at the door and turned back, heart swelling with a burst of affection for his friend. “Thanks, Luka.”

“Anytime, bud.”

* * * *

Work for Sartini piled up now that Thomas was leading full-steam ahead. Their Thrill Island pitch meeting with Ilona had gone well—she loved their ideas—and now there were a few adjustments and some polishing to do before they met with the owner of the amusement park. The big cancer charity fundraiser Finn headed up every year—the 5K for Hope—was approaching too, and he was busy organizing the Breakpoint office team.

With all those things on his plate, he wasn’t surprised when he looked up from his desk one evening to see it was after nine.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. That was more than enough for one day. His stomach growled as he packed up his bag and trudged toward the elevators.

And there was Rory, waiting. The overhead lights were off, but the light from down the hall cast Rory’s long neck and sharp jaw in stark relief.

“Hi,” Finn said, his throat threatening to close.

Rory tuned at the sound of Finn’s voice, tired face lighting up with a smile. “Hi, Finn.”

“You’re here late,” Finn said.

“So are you.”

“Yeah.” Finn pushed his hair back. “Lots going on.”

“That’s for sure.”

The elevator ride was quiet, and so was the night when they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Finn paused and turned his face up to the cool air, refreshing after so many hours inside.

Rory tilted their head up, too. “What a beautiful night,” they said softly. The faint stars that were visible over the city dotted an inky sky, scattered with thin, purple clouds.

Finn’s hunger and exhaustion had vanished, replaced only by the desire to stay by Rory’s side. “Can I give you a ride home?” he offered. “I drove today. Getting a train this time of night can be tricky.” A bolt of worry stabbed through him at the idea of Rory traveling home alone.

“Oh, no.” Rory shook their head. “It’s totally out of your way.”

“Not that far,” Finn said. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

Rory shifted their bag and looked up at Finn. Their eyes reflected the streetlights, sparks of yellow in bottomless black. “Well, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Finn’s head spun as Rory climbed into his truck next to him. Fortunately, he had just cleaned it, so the seats were shiny and crumb-free.

“What were you working on so late?” Finn asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Smoothing out a few bugs in the Thrill Island app, crunching some numbers for Thomas, catching up on emails. You?”

“Getting shit together for the 5K for Hope, mostly. Emails for me too, harassing people to sign up.”

“Not me though—I registered today!” Rory said proudly.

“I saw.” Finn had in fact made an involuntary noise in the lunchroom when Rory’s name had popped up in his inbox.

“That’s so cool that you’re organizing this. How long has the office been participating?”

“Since I arrived, so this is the fifth year.”

“That’s great, Finn. Good for you.”

Finn shrugged. “My grandma was the only one in my family who actually gave a shit about me. When cancer got her, I wanted to do something in her memory.”

Rory reached over and touched Finn’s knee. Only for a second, but their hand left a searing imprint. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Finn gave Rory a sideways smile. “I wish I had known her better, but I like remembering her this way. Plus, I’m living in her house now and it helps me feel more connected to her.” Finn told Rory about the work he’d done to update her place, but keep its original seventies vibe.

“Wow, you did all those renovations yourself?” Rory asked.

“Most of them, thanks to online tutorials. I’m good with my hands.” Finn’s cheeks flamed. “Like, with wood. Uh, building stuff.”

“I can’t do anything like that.” Rory fluttered their lithe fingers. “Kind of useless.”

Finn snorted. “Tell that to your keyboard.”

He could see Rory smile from the corner of his eye and turn to look at him. “I bet your house looks amazing.”

“You’ll get to see it if you come to the office Halloween party. I host it every year.”

“I’ll be there.”

Finn dropped Rory off at the front walk of their building and waited for them to get safely inside. Rory turned to wave through the glass door. Finn waved back until Rory had vanished from view.

He smiled the whole way home.

* * * *

At lunch the next day, Luka put his phone down and gave Finn his full attention. “Wait. You drove Rory home last night?”

“Yeah, why?”

Luka chuckled. “You keep saying you and Rory aren’t a good fit, but like…you’re practically dating, Finn.”

“Did you get hit in the head or something? No, we’re not!”

“Let me recap this for you real quick,” Luka said. “They asked you to lunch—”

“Only ’cause it would have been awkward not to.”

“You spent a day at Thrill Island—”

“That was for work.”

“—after which they asked you to dinner —” Luka paused, waiting for Finn's counter-argument. There was none. “And then you went bike riding all day—how adorable is that ?”

“It was just a bike ride,” Finn mumbled.

Luka’s look was withering. “That was a date.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

Luka ticked off a point on his fingers. “Did you get food?”

“Um…”

Another tick. “Did you hug at the end?”

Finn pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”

Luka’s grin was massive and annoying. “Did you, or did you not, smell their hair during said hug?”

Finn glared.

“That’s what I thought. Dating.” Luka took a smug bite of his pasta.

“So are you and Thomas practically dating then?” Finn asked, hoping Luka would take the distraction bait. “You guys are together all day in your tiny little office.” Thomas had taken over one arm of Luka’s desk instead of getting his own space, and Finn knew for a fact there was an available office by the conference room.

“I do not want to date him,” Luka said primly. “He is my boss. Plus he is definitely not interested. Which is fine, because I would have to be insane to pursue him. Because he is my boss. So…no.”

“I’ve never been more convinced,” Finn said.

* * * *

At the next staff meeting, there were a few minutes on the agenda for Finn to talk about the upcoming fundraiser. “Don’t forget, the ‘5K for Hope’ is this Sunday,” he announced from the head of the table. “If you have any donations that weren’t online, you can bring the cash and pledge forms with you. The run itself starts at nine, so please try to be there by eight-thirty. I’ll have your shirts for you tomorrow. And”—he turned to Luka—“I need to congratulate Moreno who, once again, has raised the most money in the office.”

“Oh.” Luka hunched his shoulders as the room applauded. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Finn insisted, resisting the urge to check and make sure Thomas was listening. “That money will make a difference to people with cancer. You did a great job.” Luka’s charm was a highly effective fundraising tool.

“Do you need any help with anything?” Rory asked him after the meeting. “Now, or on Sunday or…?”

“Sure.” Finn’s heart fluttered. “If it’s not too much trouble, I could use some help with setup or takedown?”

“I can do both. What time do you want me?”

Finn coughed. “Seven-thirty would be great.”

* * * *

Sunday dawned bright and clear, although a late September chill frosted the grass. The leaves were a dance of autumnal colors, gold and burnt orange and apple red against the cloudless sky. Finn carried a bin of supplies from his truck over to their assigned team table, then began unpacking, trying to focus on the task and not looking around to see if Rory had arrived yet.

Then there they were, in sunglasses and damp hair, walking over from the parking lot carrying two coffees. Rory wore their usual jeans, plus a cozy black hoodie Finn hadn’t seen before, featuring a band he’d never heard of.

“You’ve got me in my running shoes again, Finn,” they said, handing over one of the cups. “That’s twice in as many weeks. Who even am I anymore?”

Finn chuckled. “Thanks,” he said, toasting Rory with the cup. “Maybe next week we can play racquetball.”

Rory laughed. “How’d you know? My favorite of all the racquet sports.”

Finn smiled and took a slow sip, savoring the warmth and rich flavor. “Mmm, this is good.”

“Dark roast, black,” Rory said.

“Thanks so much.” Brain spinning with so many things to remember that morning, he had forgotten to bring coffee with him. Luckily, Rory seemed to know his order.

“You’re welcome. So, put me to work.”

They carried the fold-up tent from Finn’s truck and set it up over the table, then added a pop-up Breakpoint sign and a tablecloth to match their logo.

“How do you feel about clipboards?” Finn asked, holding up the team list and a pencil.

“Huge fan,” Rory said.

“Could you please double-check that everyone is here? If their name is highlighted, they didn’t get their shirt yet. Their size is listed in this column and the extra shirts are in the bin.”

“Got it.” Their fingers touched when Rory took the clipboard.

As the park filled up around them, Finn started making the rounds through their team, greeting his coworkers and their families and handing out stickers and balloons to the kids. He waved at Tawney and Ilona, rolled his eyes at Morgan who was wearing sweatbands and the whitest shoes ever to have graced the planet and smirked at Luka drooling over Thomas in his admittedly very flattering running tights.

When it was almost time for the official opening ceremonies, he climbed on a chair and got his team’s attention. “Welcome to Breakpoint’s fifth annual 5K for Hope!” He paused for a round of hooting and clapping. “Thanks to your fundraising efforts and a last-minute anonymous donation, we have smashed our previous best, for a total of just over twenty-six-thousand dollars!”

The cheering grew louder.

Finn took a breath and pushed aside a thought about his grandma. “You’re all making a real impact. Don’t forget to stay for the closing ceremony, drink lots of water and have fun out there!”

A pair of bouncing blondes skipped onto the main stage to lead the participants in a warmup. Finn hopped off his chair and started copying their moves.

“So I guess you’ll be running at the front of the pack?” Rory asked, doing the cutest arm circles ever in their hoodie and jeans.

“I’ll do my best, anyway,” Finn said.

“Well, I’ll be with the strollers at the back.” Rory chuckled. “But good luck.”

With the starting horn, Finn set a brisk pace and stayed near the front throughout, finishing in a hair under twenty-two minutes. He waved to Rory on the loop back—they were indeed deep in stroller territory, chatting with Sabrina and her wife and kids.

The walkers were still returning when the closing ceremonies began. He went up on stage with Ilona to accept the award for top corporate fundraising team. There was a team photo after, then a barbecue for everyone. Finn tracked down a hot dog and took it back to lean against their table next to their plaque. He was finishing his last bite when Rory came over.

“Congratulations, Finn,” they said. “Your grandma would be so proud of you.”

The emotion that Finn had been holding back all morning hit him without warning. “Thanks,” he said, tears welling, chest aching.

Rory stepped closer and rested their hand on Finn’s arm but didn’t say anything for a moment. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen. But it’s fine if you don’t.”

Finn wiped at the tear that escaped and let the memory bubble up. “We used to visit her for the holidays when I was little.” He closed his eyes. “I remember the way she smelled, like flowers and fresh baking.” He smiled and sniffled. “She made the best cookies. They were as big as my head.”

“She must have loved baking for you.”

Another tear. “Jesus.” Finn laughed, embarrassed, dabbing at it with his napkin. “I’m sorry. Yeah, I hope she did.”

Rory leaned next to Finn, shoulders touching, and tilted their head up to the flawless blue sky. “She did. And she’ll be with you, always. She’s in your heart, you know?”

Finn took a deep breath. “I know. Thanks, Rory. And thank you for your help today.”

“It’s my pleasure. Whenever you need me.”

It sounded like they really meant it. Finn bumped their shoulder with his.