Chapter Fifteen

Aiden really shouldn’t have been surprised when the night ended in Finn’s bed. Lightheaded from nothing more than laughter and good food, they had giggled their way from the car and through the front door like teenagers trying to stay quiet in Finn’s parent’s house. And when Finn leaned down to kiss Aiden again, the world melted away, and nothing mattered other than the taste of his lips.

With Finn asleep beside him, mouth pliant and more adorable than any thirty-two-year-old man had any right to be, Aiden took a breath.

“I’d like to keep you,” he murmured, barely above a breath.

“I’d let you.” Finn’s voice was impossibly quiet, muffled with sleep.

Aiden turned toward the pillow with a soft groan. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Nah.” Finn shifted, throwing a well-muscled arm over Aiden’s shoulders. “Just resting my eyes.”

“You snore when you rest your eyes?” Aiden said bravely, considering he’d been caught red-handed.

“Don’t you?” Finn said, pulling Aiden closer to him. “It’s not a bad thing, y’know.”

“Snoring? I’m sure I could find a few sleep-deprived people who would say it is.”

“Not that.” Finn cracked open an eyelid. Even while the tone of voice was openly pleading with Aiden to let him sleep, Aiden couldn’t find it within himself to care. Not when he got to look at Finn like this. Hair curled at the edges, expression soft, his stubble slightly overgrown. “Wanting to be with someone.”

“I know that.” If Aiden sounded a little bristly, then that was his business entirely. “But it’s not…realistic.”

Finn lifted his head. “Why not?”

In the dark, Aiden made a vague waving motion with his hand. “There’s stuff.”

“Uh-huh. And is this stuff getting in the way of what you want?”

Aiden opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, indignant and unwilling to justify that with a response. It was so easy for Finn—his setup here with his kid and his loving friends. He didn’t understand what it was like for Aiden to have his obligations back home. He had to get a job, because fuck knows his bank account balance wouldn’t survive long after this trip; he had to move out of his apartment; he had to face his mam.

“Okay, clearly this is stressing you out.”

No shit.

“So how about we just stop. And enjoy yourself for the time being?”

“I think I was enjoying myself more when you were resting your eyes.”

“Then join me.” With one fluid movement, Finn successfully pulled Aiden entirely on top of him.

“Sap,” sighed Aiden, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a touch affectionate.

“Dag,” Finn said, resting his cheek atop Aiden’s curls.

“Take me out to the boat tomorrow.” It was spoken so softly that it could only be interpreted as a request, even if Aiden intended it as an ultimatum. He wanted to see Finn’s boat, what started the career with his brother that he so clearly loved. And against Aiden’s better judgment—because learning more about Finn had to go against all rules of casual hookups—he didn’t stop himself.

“I thought you were against diving?”

“I never said anything about diving,” Aiden said, leaning his head back from Finn’s collarbone to look at him clearly, eyes twinkling in the dim light. “That’s still a no-go.”

“No diving. We don’t even have to leave the marina,” Finn said, his palm smoothing over Aiden’s bare back. The touch made him shiver.

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.” For emphasis, Finn hooked his pinky with Aiden’s thumb. “Fuck. Where’s your pinky?”

Pressing his pinky against Finn’s, Aiden said, “Back to Ryan’s first, though. I miss wearing my own clothes.”

“But you wear mine so well.”

Aiden raised his head, unimpressed—even in the face of Finn’s pout.

“All right, all right. First Ryan’s, then the boat.”

…

“After you.” Finn gestured dramatically toward the door as Aiden brandished his brand spanking new key from Mooloolaba.

“I feel like I should make a speech or something.”

“Speeches are overkill,” Finn told him, stepping that bit closer to circle his waist with his arms. Voice low, lips inches away from Aiden’s ear, he whispered, “I’m all about the celebration that comes after.”

It was a miracle that Aiden didn’t drop the damn key, but it did take him a moment to actually insert it into the lock. Finn kissing along his neck and making his interest more than known sure didn’t help things, but Aiden enjoyed the feeling too much to complain.

Click.

They ambled inside, Finn barely a step behind him. Finn kicked the door closed behind him, and really Aiden shouldn’t have been turned on by his eagerness. But he was—he really was.

Finn opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but Aiden had more important things to express. Namely, wrapping his arms around those ridiculous shoulders and pulling himself up to kiss him. Finn was quick to get on board, hands tangled in his curls, pushing him back toward the couch.

They made quick work of their clothes, knocking over a lamp in the process that neither of them took notice of. Aiden couldn’t really concentrate on anything but the light smattering of hair on Finn’s chest, or the way that his muscles shifted beneath his skin as he gripped and pulled and held Aiden exactly where he wanted to.

He was putty in Finn’s capable hands. Putty that cried out obscenities and demands faster than he himself could make sense of them.

“Fucking incredible…” Finn had whispered, voice haggard as Aiden gripped onto the edge of the couch in fear of being fucked right off it. Not exactly an ideal place for this, especially when one of the people involved was built like a damn tree.

But honestly? From the moment Aiden felt Finn’s desire pressed against him, saw that heat in his eyes, he was secretly impressed that they’d even made it to the couch.

…

“Welcome aboard.” Arms splayed wide, Finn stood on the deck—shy despite his grand gesture. “It might not look like much, but you should have seen it before we fixed it up.”

Finn was right. It didn’t look like much. To be perfectly honest, Aiden was shocked that the boat was still operational and afloat. It looked like one of those sailboats tugged along on a salvage ship, thrashed by the waves and corroded by time. Hesitantly, Aiden traced his fingers along the frayed edges—just about maintained with some blotchy staining.

“It’s…something,” Aiden said, eyeing the floorboards suspiciously. “How many trips a day does this thing do?”

Aiden took a few cautious steps forward. He wasn’t sure whether it could maintain his weight while still. The thing could fall apart if it managed to leave port.

“I know,” sighed Finn, hands flopping to his sides. “But it’s sturdier than it looks, even if it’s a bit of an eyesore among all the other boats out here.”

Considering they were docked beside a yacht that Aiden was convinced came with its own butler, that was somewhat of an understatement.

“A sentimental eyesore?” Aiden said, trying to soften the blow of his admittedly terrible poker face. “Please don’t tell me you fixed up the plumbing.”

Finn scowled, clearly still not willing to swallow his pride and admit that he was the one directly responsible for the almost flood in Ryan’s bathroom. But he didn’t dispute it; rather, he took a few heavy steps toward Aiden, tapping his heel flat down on the floor for emphasis.

“Completely rebuilt the floors. They were rotten through.”

“Not to doubt your workmanship, but now I’m kinda scared to move.”

Finn rolled his eyes but didn’t offer any reassurance. Aiden clung on to the edges that bit tighter.

“Just for that, I’m not gonna take you below deck.”

Aiden said, “Is that a euphemism?” with a raised brow.

Snorting, Finn said, “Fuck about and find out.”

“I would, but I don’t want to risk bodily harm.” Catching Finn’s sharp look, mouth open for some clever retort, Aiden got there first. “From the boat. Not your dick.”

Finn turned away before Aiden could see him deflate. But it was clear in the line of his shoulders.

Changing the topic, Aiden took a cautious step toward Finn. “You said it was your parents’?”

“Sure did.” Turning back, Finn touched Aiden lightly on the elbow—not going into further detail. Aiden got his point. Why delve into such a personal topic when Aiden hadn’t returned the courtesy? Especially with their brief conversation from last night fresh on his mind. “C’mon.”

Taking far longer than he should, not at all eager to fall on his ass and break something, Aiden held onto the back of Finn’s shirt as they descended the rickety stairs. Whether that was for stability, someone to catch him if he did fall, or to bring Finn down with him, Aiden wasn’t sure. But Finn didn’t complain, and neither did Aiden when his knuckles brushed against the warm skin of his hip.

“We use this half as a changing room, if someone likes a bit of privacy,” said Finn, gesturing toward the rear, a flimsy curtain hanging up there to protect any modesty. With another fleeting touch to Aiden’s elbow, he led him farther toward the front of the boat, head almost knocking against the low, cracked ceiling as he walked.

“I thought the family I saw got ready on the beach?”

“Boat’s for bigger dives. The mum got changed in the backseat of the jeep.” Aiden pulled a face, sympathetic. “And down here is the office.”

“You have an office?” Aiden was suitably impressed, even if the setup was a fold-out desk, a stack of papers along a bench, and a small filing cabinet. “How’s the internet?”

“Surprisingly fast.”

As he was opening his mouth for a clever rebuttal (he hoped), Aiden’s attention was grasped by something else. A photograph hung crookedly on the wall. A pair of young boys, flanked by two smiling adults—standing in front of the boat. But instead of the Schultz’s Scuba banner emblazoned there, it was the chipped and faded print of Feelin’ Nauti.

He wondered if the original name was still there.

Aiden didn’t have to be a genius to fill in the blanks. He could draw clear comparisons between one of the boys in the photograph and the man standing next to him. His gait hadn’t changed, and clearly he’d hit a growth spurt early on in life, lording above a young Ryan.

“Are these your parents?” asked Aiden, running his finger along the edge of the wooden frame.

Finn crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat. “Yeah.”

“They look happy.”

“They were.” Finn pursed his lips, a somber air crossing him.

“I’m sorry.” Aiden took his hand away from the picture, nudging Finn aside so he could take a place beside him on the narrow bench.

“Nah.” Shaking his head, Finn turned his attention to his hands now clasped in his lap. “It was a long time ago.”

“Still.” Aiden was never good at this. The whole comforting thing. His general approach, when needed, was to listen and offer a distraction. A movie and takeaway was his usual port of call—which made him Daire’s go-to for their many dating disasters.

But on a boat and on the spot, that wasn’t exactly possible.

“It’s shitty,” Aiden said, (not so) wisely.

“That’s one way to put it.” Finn rubbed his lips together and took a breath. “But I had Ryan. I had Marlee. Could have been worse.”

A litany of questions threatened to burst from Aiden’s core—curiosities about what happened, what age he was, how he coped. However well-meaning, Aiden could tell that this wasn’t a topic to push on. Instead, he picked a safer, more playful route.

“I don’t suppose you have any drinks hiding around down here?”

With a cheeky glint in his eye, Finn was quick to stand and take a few long strides toward the rear of the boat—rummaging around in a minifridge that somehow escaped Aiden’s attention on his first inspection.

“We get a lot of hen and stag dos,” Finn said, returning with two cans in hand. “Ryan’s idea.”

“It’s a nice touch,” Aiden said, cracking into the beer, noting that it was the same brand he’d had the first time he met Finn. Less than fond memories associated with that one, but he couldn’t remember hating the taste too bad.

Aiden took a sip.

Yeah, no. He still didn’t like beer.

“Wanna have it up on the deck?”

A few minutes later, laying out flat beside Finn, soaking in the glaring heat of the sun, Aiden made an admission that felt more monumental to him than it likely sounded.

“I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in years,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Aiden was laid out on his back, arms rested behind his head.

Finn, sprawled out on his front, turned his head toward Aiden. “Busy life back home?”

Aiden sighed, eyes cast to the blue sky and unwilling to look down. There was no point in lying to Finn—he learned that very early on.

“Don’t have to be busy to be unable to relax.”

It wasn’t the first time Aiden had mentioned to someone that he couldn’t relax. That he was always stressed, worried about something irrational. That the life that he had made for himself somehow didn’t feel like his own. Even if all he really had to worry about was getting to work on time, taking care of his mam, and making sure that the rent was paid.

But Finn seemed to get it. Without going into detail, it just clicked with him.

“Can I ask you an invasive question?” Finn asked.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Aiden suspiciously regarded Finn. “You ask a lot of those. Can’t promise I’ll answer it.”

“Fair enough,” Finn said with a breathy chuckle. Deep, rumbling. It made Aiden feel things, think of how it felt when those lips were pressed against the column of his throat. “I’ll take my chances.”

Okay. Invasive could mean a lot of things. Maybe Finn was going to ask a funny question or mock the way he winced each time he took a sip of his drink.

“You said a while ago that something happened.”

Aiden bit the inside of his lip, lying back down. Wishful thinking. Finn could be respectful of space, sure. Aiden liked that about him. But he was also one nosy bugger.

Which, okay, Aiden was, too, so he couldn’t fault him on that.

“And then there was that call…”

It would be so easy to tell him to shut up. Finn would listen; he’d move on to something else. But Aiden kept his mouth shut.

“A bloke can’t help but wonder.”

“Y’know,” Aiden said with a slow drawl, his heart hammering in his chest. “Some would think that I was running from the law.”

“Are you?” Finn rolled over, lying on his side with his head resting on an upturned palm.

“Do I look like I could?”

“I think it’s difficult to tell.” Perhaps noticing the tension that Aiden was desperately trying to hide, Finn placed his hand atop his leg, squeezing gently. “But I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

If Aiden wasn’t so consumed by the prospect of having to verbalize what happened to the very man that made him feel things he thought he’d never be capable of feeling again, he would have found humor in that. Unremarkable, unvaried Aiden was somehow full of surprises.

He much preferred that.

“I think that word of advice would have saved me a world of hurt.” He removed his arm from his eyes, wanting to see Finn more fully than through a crack. If he was going to talk about this, he was going to do it right.

“I was with this fella, Dan. We were together for eight years. It was one of those sure things, you get me?”

Finn furrowed his brows, and whether he fully understood or not, Aiden didn’t care.

The sensation of Finn’s hand on his knee was enough for him.

“We got on well—we had some laughs. We made sense as a couple. I’d remember our friend’s birthdays, but he’d choose the best gift. I love plants, but he loved watering them. We fit together. I felt like I belonged.”

An air of melancholy enveloped Aiden, and Finn didn’t move his gaze.

“I don’t know if we grew apart or if something else happened. But we weren’t happy for a while, and I never noticed. Can you believe that? It was like I was existing in a bubble for literal months. I didn’t pick up on any of the signs. Dan worked late, bailed on plans, Saturdays spent alone and going to sleep by myself. Hell, I got used to it. I made myself get used to it. It was supposed to be me and Dan, together.”

Aiden ducked his head, eyes stinging at the edges. Frustrated, he wiped them away before the tears even had a chance to fall. He’d cried enough over this.

“I was so used to being with him that I couldn’t think of not being with him.”

Cutting himself off with a laugh, Aiden placed his hand atop Finn’s and squeezed.

“I should have broken it off myself. I wonder if he would have shagged my sister anyway.”

In the distance, someone started playing music with a heavy bass. Not nearly loud enough to conceal the stunned silence between Aiden and Finn.

Just to break the hush, Aiden pointed to Finn’s slack-jawed face with his free hand.

“My expression probably looked like that when I walked in on them.”

“Aiden, what the fuck.”

What the fuck indeed.

Aiden still remembered that moment with complete and utter clarity, clear as crystal. After a pretty shit day at work (everyone he spoke to seemed to be in a bad mood, and most of the phone calls ended with some variation of “fuck you”), Aiden unlocked the front door to their apartment, wanting nothing more than a warm shower and some mindless TV.

Shrugging off his coat, he’d almost mistaken the sound of their bed creaking for the rustle of fabric landing on an old rickety chair.

“Dan?” he’d called, so fucking foolishly.

And that was when he’d made his mistake.

What Aiden should have done was sat down and waited. There was no way out of that tiny bedroom, no escape. A small window Dan would sometimes stick his head out of for a smoke, but no way in hell a whole body—let alone two cheating ones.

What Aiden did? He walked straight up to the bedroom and went in.

What he saw? Dan standing there, halfway through putting on his underwear—with Kat lying in the bed, sheets pulled up under her chin.

Aiden didn’t stick around long enough to hear their excuse or justifications; instead, he picked up his coat and went straight to Daire’s. Twenty years of feeling out of place in his own family, a further eight with a man he’d foolishly believed filled that void. But no. Instead, Dan was apparently hell-bent on being his family in a completely other way.

After a few days, Daire took Aiden’s key and packed a bag for him so he wouldn’t have to go back himself. He couldn’t see if Kat was still there, if she and Dan were making the most of Aiden’s discovery and screwing on every available surface. If they’d eventually crawl out of the woodwork, show up hand in hand to social gatherings—if Dan would do what he’d always put off with Aiden and propose to her.

There was nothing Aiden could do to shut those thoughts off. And being on Daire’s lumpy sofa, with nowhere else to go, his next move came to him with utter clarity.

Not long after, Aiden wound up here.

“Are you…” Finn didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence, but Aiden picked up the sentiment all the same.

“Okay?” Aiden offered him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. I am now.”

Running his own thumb over the back of a shell-shocked Finn’s hand, Aiden continued.

“I walked out on Dan, on my sister, on my job, on my mam. No plans, just a need to get away. And then I came here, and I found—”

You.

Aiden didn’t say it, didn’t dare to.

“Some peace?”

“Yeah.” Aiden swallowed. He ignored the brush of Finn’s hand against him, the warmth that spread there, that tangible click between them. “Some peace. But if you don’t mind.” Aiden plastered something a bit more optimistic on his features. “I’d like to not focus on the shit show that’s waiting for me when I go back.”

“If you’re asking for a distraction, I’m happy to help.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

Aiden was more comfortable with this. The teasing back-and-forth—no need to be laid bare.

Finn, in a controlled motion, pushed himself up off his front and hooked one leg over Aiden’s. “I have a couple of ideas in mind.”

“I think I like where you’re going with this.” Aiden leaned back, and Finn took the invitation. He moved to straddle Aiden—firm hands coming to rest on the floor on either side of his head. Or, they would, if it weren’t for the crack of wood and Finn sharply falling forward, his entire weight atop Aiden, winding him.

“Finn.”

“Don’t.”

“Did you break the floor?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you need help up?”

“No.”

Aiden remained flat on his back. For the first time since getting here, this wasn’t the most ideal position.