Page 19 of Persuaded

By the time they turned onto Sandy Lane, Finn’s fingertips were tingling in anxious anticipation.

In daylight, he recognized the street better—a familiar row of beach cottages, mostly shut up for the winter.

At the end of it rose the dunes and beyond them lay the bay and the ocean.

Mostly hidden by the misty rain now, he could imagine it in summer.

Not that he needed to imagine; he could remember.

“Which one is it?”

Finn squinted through the rain and saw light from one of the cottages. “That one, I think.” He recognized the elegant tree out front. “Yeah, it’s that one.”

“Wow.” Sean pulled the car up outside and killed the engine. The rain grew louder, hammering on the roof. “It’s small.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like— really small.”

Finn cut him a look. “Don’t say anything, okay? Last time, he thought I was gloating.”

“Gloating? Why would you gloat?”

“Uh, I dunno. I wouldn’t.” He glared out the passenger window, feeling Sean’s curious gaze settling on him. “I just mean he’s sensitive about it.”

Sean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I guess,” he said thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s a long fall from Hanworth Hall to this.”

Or maybe it wasn’t a fall but a climb? Maybe it was an act of defiance . Something stirred in Finn’s chest at the thought, something hopeful and terrifying.

Something like pride in Josh.

“C’mon,” Sean said, grabbing his coffee and opening the door. “We look like a couple of creeps sitting out here.”

Finn followed Sean up the short path to the cottage. The tree out front dripped heavily and the porch was barely large enough for one. Finn crammed in behind Sean, shielding the coffees from the rain while Sean knocked on the door.

After a short wait, it opened. Josh looked, predictably, horrified to see them.

“Hey!” Sean bulldozed through the discomfort. “Hope we’re not disturbing your Sunday?”

“Um...” Blatant alarm filled Josh’s eyes, which were as wide and grey as the rainy sky. “No, of course not. Come in.”

He stepped back, quite obviously changing gear. “I wasn’t expecting—I mean, of course you’re welcome, Sean.”

Sean.

Finn hustled in behind him and closed the door, shaking off the rain. The front door opened into a square of hallway behind which he could see the living room and kitchen. The whole place would fit into one room of Sean’s house—Josh’s former home.

“We brought coffee,” Sean said with a smile.

“Well, uh, thanks. Leave your coats here and come on through.”

Two hooks sat behind the door and Finn felt odd hanging his jacket over Josh’s coat, as if it were somehow too intimate. He pushed the thought aside and followed Sean into the living room.

Cramped and cozy, the room was very, very Josh.

A small sofa tucked under the window, a wood-burning stove sat in the fireplace with a chair drawn close.

And, of course, a piano crammed itself into one of the alcoves next to the fireplace, the other housing bookshelves overflowing with books and stacks of music.

With a sharp pang, Finn recognized Josh’s guitar, the one he’d dragged around with him all that summer, hanging on the wall. But it wasn’t so much on display up there as it was being kept out of the way.

“There’s not a lot of—” Josh picked up a sweater from the chair to make room. “Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.”

“Dude...” Sean looked enormous in the small room. “It’s cute,” he said, ignoring Finn’s advice not to comment. “Snug.”

“I like it,” Josh said, flicking Finn a wary glance.

Finn tested a smile and Josh’s eyes widened. Jesus, he was surprised to see a smile? “Cream, two sugars, right?” Finn said, holding out a coffee.

“Yes. You—” His eyes lit up as he took the coffee, but he stopped before he finished the sentence. You remembered .

“Ali told me,” Finn said—lied—and Josh looked away, face falling. Finn felt like an ass: Dick move, Callaghan.

Grabbing the chair by the fire, Sean left Josh and Finn to perch awkwardly on opposite ends of the small sofa.

Finn kept his gaze fixed on the flames in the stove, but out the corner of his eye he could still see Josh.

He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair all ruffled and scruff darkening the sharp line of his jaw.

His heavy sweater frayed at the hem and cuffs and he worried a loose thread between his fingers.

Josh had only worn T-shirts that summer, but Finn knew—could almost feel —what it would be like to hold him in that sweater, his lean muscles hard beneath the soft wool. It was such a sharp, visceral sensation that he sucked in a breath. Josh glanced at him and Finn looked away. Fuck.

“We won’t stay long,” Sean said, fishing the invitation from his pocket. “Just wanted to give you this. We’re doing a thing at Christmas and we’d love you to come along.”

“Oh?” Josh made a careful mask of his face. “What kind of a thing?”

Back when Finn had known him, Josh had worn his heart right there on his sleeve. This caution was new, something learned from experience. Finn hated to think that he’d given the lesson.

“Open house,” Sean said. “Tejana’s idea—we’re hoping a few people will be able to come over and share the day with us. Finn’s coming, and Liz and Matt. Dee and the girls said they’d make it. Even Don’s stopping by...”

Josh took the envelope cautiously. “I, uh—”

“No pressure,” Sean said with an easy smile. “I don’t know what your plans are.”

He didn’t have any plans. Finn could read it in his face. “Or maybe you just want to chill,” he said, giving Sean a quelling look. “Stay home where it’s quiet.” Josh stilled and Finn cringed; he knew how that sounded, coming from him. “I mean, not that you’re not welcome. I just—”

“Finn, shut up.” Sean pushed to his feet. “Josh, we’d love you to come. Like I said, it’s an open house so, if you’re around, come on over. Anytime, okay?” He stuck out his hand and Joshua blinked at it before getting up and shaking.

“I appreciate the invitation, Sean. I’ll”—a half glance at Finn—“definitely try to come along. Thank you.”

And, fuck, this couldn’t be more awkward.

Finn shoved his hands into his pockets and gave Josh a nod because shaking hands like casual acquaintances was impossible.

He kept his gaze averted, roving over the bookshelves instead of meeting Josh’s eye, and that’s when he saw it.

On a high shelf, propped up in front of the books, sat a photo frame. And inside—

He jerked his gaze away too late; he could tell by Josh’s flush that he knew he’d seen. Thank God Sean was moving to the door and hadn’t noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Josh murmured, so quiet only Finn could hear. “I forgot it was there.”

Finn just nodded, his heart beating so high in his throat that he couldn’t speak.

Josh had a photo of them, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, just kids grinning at each other in the summer sun. The glimpse of it lodged in his heart like a splinter. He wanted to grab it, study it, and scour it for every detail. He never wanted to see it again.

He put his coat on without looking at Josh, stepped out after Sean into the rain.

After Josh had ended it, Finn burned everything because he couldn’t bear to remember. What did it mean that Josh still kept the memory alive?