Page 6 of Brad & Finn (Gomillion High Reunion #3)

FINN

Finn had told Chloe this entire thing was a mistake, but had she listened? No. Because she never listened.

Not the summer of freshman year, when he’d told her not to use the sketchy rope swing to jump into the lake.

She’d ended up breaking the rope and landing on her back in the water, knocking the wind right out of her, and she’d sunk like a rock.

Finn hadn’t been wearing a swimsuit because he rarely did back then, and he’d been forced to dive in after her in his baggy shirt and Soffe shorts.

They’d both nearly drowned as he’d attempted to drag her back to shore, and truthfully, it would have served them both right.

She hadn’t listened the next summer either, when he’d told her stealing her daddy’s moonshine and refilling it with water was asking for trouble. When they’d drunkenly kissed under the stars in Finn’s backyard, they’d both learned more about themselves and each other than they’d bargained for.

Now, here they were, back in town some twenty years later, and Chloe was still getting him into all kinds of trouble.

He couldn’t believe he’d run into Brad Willson, of all people, at the bar.

He should’ve walked away. That, at least, he couldn’t blame on Chloe.

As soon as he’d realized the two large men talking at the bar next to him were former Gomillion football players, he should’ve turned on his heel and left.

He'd only recognized Miles by his name, having kept his distance from the football players who weren’t in his immediate friend group. Brad he’d recognized by his boisterous, almost melodic laugh. He laughed like he was in on every joke, and he wanted everyone around him to get it, too.

Finn was shocked at how different, and yet still familiar, Brad looked.

He still had the same shock of dark hair, but the new style was much longer than his football crew cut.

It was the kind of hairstyle Finn wanted to run his fingers through as they lounged on the couch or tangle his hands in late at night.

Brad was also sporting a full beard and mustache, something his younger self had bemoaned an inability to achieve.

It seemed he had no problem in that department now.

His physique appeared to be much the same—broad shoulders that tapered down into a slimmer waist. He was a bit thicker around the middle than in high school, but weren’t they all?

Well, actually, Finn was still relatively thin, but not for a lack of trying.

Even with the added bonus of testosterone, he wasn’t able to put on bulk, and after years of keeping a high school athlete’s lifting schedule, Finn had finally given up.

Now, he mostly went for long, leisurely jogs around town, often picking up Chloe to finish out the back half of the run.

After Finn had finished checking out the former football captain sitting at the bar, he’d tuned into the conversation Brad was having with Miles, and it intrigued him enough to make him stay put.

Never in a million years would he have guessed that the two jocks would have such an open conversation about sexuality—at the old Paul Bunyan bar, no less.

He wanted to ask Brad more about coming out as a college athlete, but now probably wasn’t the right time, given that Brad was standing awkwardly by the door to Finn’s hotel room.

He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller by tucking his shoulders forward and holding his hands in front of himself.

Funny, that was a pose Finn had used for years, even before he’d understood why. Another pose he’d relied on was the one he was currently in, arms crossed, protecting his flat chest and vulnerable heart.

“Can I get you something to drink? I think there’s water, tea, soda…more alcohol?” Finn asked, leaving out that, for the conversation they were about to have, Brad might want some more alcohol.

Brad glanced at the TV stand where the fridge was hidden. It was probably the same in every room…or perhaps Brad had stayed at the hotel before? Maybe when he’d come down to visit his mom.

Just like Brad, Finn had also grown up with a single parent. It was something they’d connected over back in high school. He wondered if Brad would remember that, or if the reality of Finn’s admission was going to wipe every good memory they’d ever shared.

Adding to his list of fuck-ups for the day, Finn realized it was probably incredibly stupid of him to invite Brad into his room instead of asking if they could go to his.

If the conversation went poorly, Finn could’ve left Brad’s room and fled across the hall.

He wanted to think that Brad would leave Finn’s room if asked to, but…

well, Finn had made stupid assumptions before.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Brad said, pulling Finn out of his spiraling thoughts.

Finn took his time pulling out Sprite, cranberry juice, orange juice, and a single airplane bottle of vodka. Brad didn’t say anything as Finn prepared the drinks, splashing a little extra vodka in his own glass.

Brad accepted the drink, and they clinked glasses before each taking a healthy sip. Brad’s face transformed, his mouth going a little slack and his eyes falling to half-mast.

“Wow…that brings back memories. We used to drink something like this?—”

“At football parties, I know,” Finn said, and Brad’s mouth snapped closed with an audible click.

Finn took that as his cue to get comfortable, because it wasn’t going to be a short talk—at least, not if Brad stayed to hear him out fully.

Finn toed off his shoes and climbed somewhat stiffly onto one of the beds.

Brad watched him the way one might eye an unknown species of snake.

Finn had encountered a lot of those when he used to go for meandering walks down at Cane Creek.

He’d approach the snake with caution, trying to gauge whether the specific color markings meant it was harmless… or not.

Finn pulled his legs up underneath him, so he was facing the other bed cross-legged.

Hopefully, Brad would feel better being on the bed closer to the exit.

Or maybe big guys like him didn’t have to worry about things like that.

Perhaps he didn’t scope out every venue and make sure he knew exactly how many feet he was from the exit in case he had to make a quick escape.

That was something Finn’s dad had taught him in one of his few awkward attempts to connect with his only child.

It'd been a long time since Finn let himself wonder what his life would have been like if his mother hadn’t died in childbirth.

He’d wondered that a lot growing up—and doubly so in college, when everything began to change for him.

As the years continued to pass, his conversations with his dad became more and more infrequent until they tapered off completely, and Finn had gotten used to the idea of being parentless.

Brad slowly, almost painstakingly so, stepped out of his Nikes. He pushed them up against the wall with his foot, so they were politely out of the way, before padding over to the second bed. A soft huff escaped his lips as he sat down, and his gaze settled heavily over Finn.

Back at the bar, when Finn had said that he and Chloe had utterly failed to game plan, he’d also meant they’d failed to prepare for this possibility.

Not of Brad Willson being in Finn’s hotel room at well past midnight, but that Finn was going to be faced with people who knew him back in high school who would have next to no chance of recognizing him now.

That was one of the several reasons Chloe had asked Finn to go as her date.

It meant Finn wouldn’t have to go as a member of the class of 2005, but he could still attend the reunion.

He could decide at the event, or at any time during the event, whether or not he wanted to come out to his former classmates.

Finn had been leaning towards not coming out, but the weight of Brad’s hand on his hip and the vulnerable curve of his lips as he’d leaned down to kiss Finn in the hallway had momentarily changed his mind.

It was like Brad had touched that knot that always sat at the hinge of Finn’s jaw.

He’d touched it once before, the night of graduation, and Finn hadn’t known what it meant at the time.

He still wasn’t quite sure, but he wasn’t going to figure it out by sitting in silence, avoiding Brad’s questioning look.

“There’s a little more to the story of why I’m here, attending the high school reunion with Chlo,” Finn started.

“I also received an invitation, because I was a member of the Gomillion class of 2005 as well. Everything I said about Chloe is true, though. We’ve known each other and have been best friends for almost three decades. ”

Brad spread his legs so he could lean forward with both of his elbows on his thighs. Even though he’d been looking at Finn all night, he squinted at him like maybe this time he’d see something different.

Finn had done that in the mirror for years, turning his face this way and that, trying to gauge if the exact curve of his cupid's bow or the slant of his eyebrows would give him away. He still had the same rare eye color, which only 2% of the rest of the world had. He also still had the same mole below his right ear and the slight gap in his front teeth. The longer he stayed in Indiana, several states away from anyone who had known him before, it seemed to matter less and less. Only Chloe and Kendall knew him from that time, and they’d been with him through every change and development.

“I doubt you’d recognize me. I’ve changed a lot since then,” Finn said, somewhat uncomfortably. He took a fortifying sip of his drink and wished he’d opted for the entire airplane bottle of vodka.