Page 43 of Brad & Finn (Gomillion High Reunion #3)

“I think there are some aspects of this job that are your dream,” she said slowly.

“I also think—no, I know that you are incredible with those kids, and you provide them with acceptance and belonging that they might not have ever had before. You did it on your short recruitment trips when you’d only have a few hours to talk to them about their single-parent homes or being LGBTQ or having to work to support their families.

I can’t even imagine the type of support you could give them over an entire season.

I worry that it won’t leave much room in your life for anything else, though. ”

Brad had been thinking about this, too. “I think…or, at least, I hope I’ll have more free time. The first year might be a bit rough, and it might take me a while to figure out routines and schedules, but I hope it’s going to be a lot better.”

His mom nodded slowly. “That sounds very reasonable. Knowing you, I doubt it will take very long for you to figure everything out and start excelling at it.”

Brad tried to smile, but it slipped back off his face. His head was a swirl of pictures of what his life could be like with Finn. However, the dark, grey reality of what it was right now kept muting the colors. Sort of like the clouds turning the green field into a muted gray.

“I don’t even know where to start with Finn,” he said. “It would be amazing if he wanted to try and make things work. Even if that means doing long-distance at first, and we have to take turns going to see each other. I would do it without hesitation. I realized that last night.”

“When you were running yourself ragged, like you always do, instead of enjoying prom with your friends?”

Brad dropped his gaze, and his mom squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t?—”

“Braden Willson, I saw you in your running clothes, which you clearly slept in. Do not lie to my face.”

Oh lord, not the full name. “I…messed up, mom.”

“I know, honey. It seems we both did, and Finn had to pay the price for it last night.”

Brad glanced up, pain slicing through his chest. “What do you mean?”

His mom patted his arm. “He was very upset. So was Chloe. They were disappointed and, I think, a bit heartbroken that you didn’t ask Finn to prom and then didn’t even go with them on top of that.”

Brad felt like his own heart was breaking.

“You need to talk to him,” she said.

“I know.”

“And apologize.”

“I know.”

“And tell him how you feel, and ask him to be your boyfriend, and then live happily ever after with you, and your five children.”

Brad raised an eyebrow, and his mom grinned back at him.

“I draw the line at three,” he acquiesced.

“Honey, I would be happy if the two of you even went on a real date.”

The honesty of her words sat between them on the cold metal of the bleachers.

“You would? You wouldn’t…be disappointed in me? If I turned down the job or moved to—” He couldn’t repress a shudder. “–Indiana? Or never had children and–”

She squeezed his arm, and he closed his mouth. “Would you be happy?”

“I—”

“Does Finn make you happy?” she pressed.

Brad felt like acid was burning a hole through the sides of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since BBQ the day before, and the coffee, lack of food, and utter emotional carnage of the past twelve hours weren’t agreeing with him.

“He does,” Brad admitted. “He makes me feel…so light. And still. Like I can finally stop moving and maybe…maybe he’ll stand still with me.”

His mom’s eyes filled with tears, and as it always went, Brad’s filled with tears as well.

His dad had hated that about them. If one of them cried, it wasn’t long before the other would be crying, too.

Brad had a strange moment of twisted pride that it was something his dad hadn’t been able to steal from them.

“That is all that matters, sweetie,” his mom said. “That’s all that has ever mattered, and I’m so sorry you didn’t know that. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel that way.”

Brad pulled her into a hug, and she let him hold her as they kept talking about how she’d been doing lately.

Brad got to hear all about her flourishing friendships with Chloe’s mom and several other folks around town.

It eased one of the many worries he carried around with him, that his mom was lonely and that it was somehow his fault, too.

His tailbone ached like it might be irreparably damaged from sitting on the hard benches, and his stomach was still empty, but by the time they finished, he felt better than he had in years.

At least, he did until he walked into the hotel lobby and found Finn and Chloe sitting on the couch closest to the door. That made him feel like his heart was clawing its way out of his chest and would quite possibly burst forth like an alien baby.

His mom had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to talk to Finn today.

Brad already knew that; he just hadn’t had time between getting out of his mom’s car and opening the front door of the hotel to come up with a game plan.

No one seemed to care about this, though, because both of his friends stood up as he approached, giving him zero chance of escape.

He opened his mouth—to say what, he had no idea—but Chloe held up a finger, and he shut it again.

She turned to Finn and gave him a tight hug, saying, “I’ll see you later, okay?

Just text if you need anything.” She made as if to walk past Brad, but at the last moment, she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You get a pass one time, Bradley. Just one.”

A single one of the copious knots sitting at the base of his neck loosened. “Thank you. I…don’t know if I deserve that, but thank you. And I’m really sorry–for everything.”

Even Chloe’s side-eye was intimidating, but her pretty eyes slowly softened. “I accept your apology, and before you can get yourself all worked up about it, your bestie status is still intact—for now.”

It was hard to tell if the burning in his eyes was new or leftover, but he nodded his head firmly before he turned to face the music with Finn.

The first thing he noticed was that Finn and Chloe weren’t matching today.

Finn was wearing a maroon hoodie that was about two sizes too big for him over well-worn jeans that held his body the way Brad so desperately wanted to.

His eyes were stormy, but the tiniest bit of green showed through as he looked up at Brad.

“Hi,” he said.

Brad’s arms screamed to wrap around his shoulder or his waist or to grab his hand or even his sleeve. He managed to hold himself at bay, even though it felt like fighting off a tsunami. “Hi. Could we…”

“Grab a coffee? And talk?” Finn offered, and Brad’s stomach swooped.

At some point, Brad was going to have to stop subsisting on caffeine and adrenaline and actually get a decent night's sleep. That could wait, though.

They walked to Fresh Brews together with a new distance between them.

Brad couldn’t figure out if he or Finn was the one putting it there.

He tried to use the long walk to prioritize what he wanted to say.

He knew he wanted to ask—or beg, or even plead—for Finn to give him a second chance.

He wanted to tell him, openly and honestly, about his work and what it really meant to him.

He wanted to tell him about his mom and maybe a little about his dad, the bits and pieces he’d never told anyone before.

On top of all of that, he wanted to tell Finn about…

Finn. Brad wanted to tell him how amazing he and his sometimes hand-fluttery brain were.

He wanted to tell him how he made Brad feel safe and how his relationship with Chloe was a beautiful thing that Brad wanted to help him cherish and nourish for the rest of their lives.

He wanted to say that Finn was, without a doubt, the best thing that had ever happened to him, including the promotion.

Unfortunately, after they got their coffees and breakfast sandwiches, Finn led them to a quiet corner to sit, and Brad said none of that. He sat there in silence and stared at Finn’s soft hair and his rare, grey-green eyes until, finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry, and I love you,” he burst out.

It felt like a cheap shot. Like something someone would say to get out of facing consequences, or to try to make a quick excuse. It didn’t sound like any of the things he was feeling, which of course included love, but also longing and respect and admiration and?—

“I know,” Finn said.

For a second, Brad forgot how to breathe. His vision went a little spotty, his spine turned to jelly, and he had to grip his thighs to remain upright.

Finn watched him, and the afternoon sun broke through the clouds, slanting across his face and lighting up his eyes.

“I can see it written all over your face that you’re sorry and…” Finn paused and spun his coffee cup in his hands. “I know you love me. I hope you know that I love you, too. We didn’t say it a lot back then, and hopefully we can change that moving forward, but we said it enough that I remember.”

Finn placed his hand in the middle of the table, palm up.

It didn’t look like a comfortable position, and Brad stared at it as his mind tumbled over Finn’s words.

When he flexed his fingers, Brad finally caught on, and he slid his very sweaty hand into Finn’s.

It was a relief to find that Finn’s hand was damp, too.

It made him seem human, just like the tiny gap in his teeth and the way he kept drumming the fingers of his free hand against his coffee cup.

“I…” Brad tried to say, but his thoughts were still spinning, and it felt a little like the room was tilting.

“You look like you’re going to pass out, babe,” Finn said, squeezing Brad’s hand tightly. “Eat your food, and I’ll talk, okay?”