Chapter Twelve

Technically, it wasn’t Aiden’s idea. Technically, he was completely blameless here. And if Finn Schultz had anything to say about it, then Aiden would be refuting such.

A few hours after the pair had departed and Aiden located a completely different ice cream parlor, he’d gotten a text from Finn. Which was admittedly nicer than the alternative that he’d been expecting when he heard that ping—considering he was due to give mam a call later to check in.

The text was an apology for how the day had panned out, and it quickly sparked a conversation that ended with Aiden reassuring him that the bike would still be there tomorrow. No, no one is going to buy the bright orange bike with flames on the wheels in the next twelve hours. Yes, Millie would still be able to get her bike.

As if by fate, he saw a kid cycle by on a bike that could have been gold but also kind of looked orange as well. He didn’t think Finn would forgive himself if he missed out on getting that bike.

It was likely the most covert thing that Aiden had ever done, trying to finagle the location of the bike shop from Finn without being totally obvious.

Now Aiden found himself armed with a bright orange bicycle (complete with the fire in question), trying his best to flag down the right bus in the middle of rush hour. Not the smartest move that he’d ever made, no. But he had to follow it through. He was going to give Finn this bike and hopefully reduce the man’s stress levels a bit, dammit.

When the bus finally arrived, Aiden was far too protective of the bike to stash it beneath. Instead, he managed to haul it onto the bus and hold it between his legs, squashed up against a window to make sure his seatmate wasn’t affected by his poor life choices.

Aiden had always found that time on public transport passed differently. It was like a hospital waiting room, just less…sterile. And with a lot more sweat. It was both the worst and best place to think, and probably a reason why Aiden desperately tried to cling on to his rust bucket of a car back home. At least, when he was driving, he had things to concentrate on. Things like changing the gear and watching the pedestrians and, most importantly, not crashing. On a bus, he didn’t have any of that. His phone was far too close to dying for him to dare scroll, and the radio was nothing more than a dull hiss with the occasional garbled voice.

Aiden had nothing to distract him—nothing but his thoughts. And, lately, weren’t they a dangerous place to be?

Closing his eyes, arms and legs clamped around the bike, he tried to visualize Ryan’s yoga DVDs. The heavily accented instructions of breathe in, breathe out.

But not too hard, because someone was eating fish on this bus and Aiden really didn’t want to gag.

With time as a vacuum inside of this great metal box, it felt like both an entire day and a matter of minutes by the time that it rolled into Canlaroy. The stop wasn’t too far from Tam’s Treats, a blessing in disguise because the sun was steadily setting and Aiden wasn’t up for another night of adventuring in the dark. He thanked the bus driver, ignored the odd look that he’d received due to the attachment to the bike, and got off.

Aiden briefly debated heading right back to Ryan’s, dropping the bike off at Finn’s another day. But there was a stubborn part of him that wouldn’t allow that.

Tackling the downhill slog from Tam’s Treats with a child’s bike on his back was far easier than Aiden anticipated. And eventually he considered that maybe it would be okay if he actually rolled the bike along the path, as was its intended use.

Finn’s house soon came into view, a single light in the living room flicked on. Aiden couldn’t see any farther than that, and he quickly felt like a creep for peering through their window. He was going to use the front door, just like everyone else.

Finn opened the door, as exhausted as Aiden had seen him earlier. He clearly wasn’t expecting the excited “Ta-da” from Aiden as he held up the bike in offering.

“I couldn’t get it out of my head,” Aiden explained, watching as Finn’s mouth opened and his brows furrowed. “And I figured because I was still in the area, I could just pick it up. If you want to stash it at Ryan’s until you want to give it to Millie, that’s fine. I just wanted to check in as well, if I’m going to be honest. And— Feck. Did I get the wrong one?”

Finn’s silence stretched on and on. Not even Aiden’s nervous blabbing could fill it.

“Finn.” Aiden’s voice was quiet, unsure. He lowered the bike. “Did I completely overstep and fuck up?”

“Yes.” Finn’s frown deepened. “No. Christ, Aiden… I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you?” Aiden suggested, a hopeful expression dancing over his face.

“Obviously thank you. But this…” Finn gestured vaguely toward the bike. “This is too much. Especially after today. You can’t expect me to accept this.”

“Yes. I can. And not just because the shop has a no returns policy, but because you had to deal with a lot today. And if this is one of the small things I can help with, then so be it.”

Finn still looked conflicted, in the sort of way that Aiden hoped was “this is great, but I don’t want to appear too eager to accept.” And when he finally spoke, it wasn’t what Aiden expected at all.

“Millie, can you set another place at the table?” Finn stepped aside, waving for Aiden to come in.

“What about the bike?” he asked in hushed tones, the fact that he was being invited for dinner going right over his head.

“She can see it. Doesn’t mean she gets it yet.”

“Oh, that is devious,” Aiden returned, slightly impressed. “All right. Your call, Mr. Dad.”

Aiden managed to wrangle the bike inside without incident, the jingle of the bell alerting Millie, who tentatively tiptoed in. And if Aiden had the foresight to take a picture of her expression, it would have made up for the disaster that was today.

“Is that for me?” she asked, eyes wide and locked on the bike. “Really?”

“Not for right now,” Finn explained, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “But yes, Aiden got you this. Even if you scared us both.”

Something short-circuited in Millie’s brain as she quite literally did a double take. “Aiden?”

“The strange man, yep.” Aiden nodded, hands secure on the handlebars.

“What do we say, Millie?” Finn prodded patiently.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Millie’s little fingers twitched to get at the bike.

“Okay, that and…”

“And…” Millie clasped her hands together, searching Finn’s face for a hint of what that could possibly be. Finn remained steadfast and waited it out. “Thank you.”

“And.”

This time, he was met with a frown.

Finn matched her look, and they both never looked more alike. Aiden felt like he was caught in a cross fire. “We talked about this, remember?”

“I remember.” Millie took a breath, building up to this big moment that Aiden was a little nervous to hear. “I’m sorry. For running off and scaring you. Let’s be friends.”

When Aiden glanced back at Finn, he found him mouthing the words as Millie dutifully repeated them. Pretending not to notice, Aiden held out a hand for Millie to shake.

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t try to be your friend first,” he said. Then, in a lower tone: “You’re much cooler than your dad.”

That earned a genuine smile, something that Aiden had lost hope in getting. And when Millie placed her hand in his, offering him an overenthusiastic shake, Aiden figured that he might be all right here.

While the invitation to dinner might have escaped his attention the first time around, Finn manually steering him by the shoulders into a vacant chair did not. Millie took her place across the table, her eyeline never leaving the bike propped up by the door.

“When do you think I can get the bike?” she asked in hushed whispers as Finn puttered around in the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Careful here, Aiden. He might have narrowly avoided overstepping, but suggesting a timeframe here was decidedly in the parenting territory. “You’ll have to ask your dad.”

Millie picked up her fork, spinning it in the air. “I didn’t mean to scare him.”

“I know you didn’t.” Aiden’s lips pressed together as he debated the next thing to say. “He loves you so much. Pretty sure a bee could fly too close to you and he’d get scared.”

Millie leaned over, dropping her voice in a serious hush. “When I got stung by a bee, Mum told me not to tell Dad ’cause he’d freak.”

“See?” Aiden’s heart warmed in his chest.

“You two gossiping about me?” asked Finn, plates balanced expertly in his hands as he emerged from the kitchen. “You’re lucky I always make too much.”

“Ryan eats our leftovers,” Millie explained, digging in the moment a plate of pasta was presented to her.

“Without prompting,” added Finn, taking his seat beside his daughter. “Not unusual that I’ll come home from a long day to an empty fridge. But hey, little brothers. What can you do?”

Aiden’s hand stilled around his fork, wondering when the last time he was even in Kat’s house was. Comfortably rummaging around in her fridge seemed a far cry from where their relationship currently stood. Ever stood, really, if Aiden was going to be honest with himself.

“Too hot?” Finn asked, nudging Aiden’s foot beneath the table. “The pasta.”

“Hm?” Aiden shook his head, dragging himself from his thoughts. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

While dinner wasn’t the chatty affair that it’d been at Tam and Adie’s, it was a major step up from the car ride that morning. Aiden took comfort in that. It was nice, even with the subdued tone. He’d expected to take off after dinner, say his goodbyes, and maybe see Finn once again when they got that whole key thing sorted. But as the three of them tidied up, Aiden caught Finn quietly asking Millie if she’d mind if he stayed for a movie.

Aiden furiously scrubbed at the pot to seem like he wasn’t eavesdropping. Millie’s answer was delayed but resulted in Aiden curled up on the armchair in the living room twenty minutes later. Admittedly, he didn’t pay much attention to the figures on-screen embarking on their adventure. Rather, he found himself looking at Finn and Millie curled up together on the couch, Millie with her back to the armrest and legs kicked up on Finn. A threadbare blanket was strewn over her lap, the edges brushing against Finn’s knees. It was a classic movie-watching position if Aiden had ever seen one. Every family had them. When he was younger, Aiden could kick back on the floor with his back against the sofa—Kat and their mam sat behind him. And then eventually, when Kat got older and having family TV time was not on her list of priorities, it was Aiden on the floor and mam on the couch.

Not long after, it was just Aiden.

But even that comparison that he’d subconsciously made didn’t upset him. Once upon a time, maybe, but not now. Not when he was faced with this. With an incredible man who just wanted to do right by his daughter. With the guy who—

Aiden was decidedly into.

Fuck.

“I think someone’s fallen asleep,” Finn whispered, nodding toward a droopy Millie. The film was only halfway through, but considering Finn picked up the remote to switch it off, he wasn’t paying much attention, either. “I’ll just put her to bed.”

“I’ll see myself out,” Aiden replied, shuffling to get to his feet.

“No, no.” Finn’s movements were slow, careful not to wake Millie. “I’ll just be a minute.”

So Aiden stayed put, unwilling to make himself move or listen to the long list of reasons why he should hightail it out of there. If he was going to listen to those reasons in the first place, he wouldn’t have come here with the bike. He would have stashed it at Ryan’s and texted Finn to pick it up while he was on a run or something.

But no. Aiden was here because he was weak, and he really couldn’t find it within himself to care about that.

Especially not when Aiden heard singing. He leaned forward, second-guessing himself as he strained to hear. Was that Finn? Some person outside?

But no. It sounded too close. Too raspy. Too similar to Finn’s voice to be anyone but Finn.

Finn was singing “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” to his kid, and Aiden couldn’t stop smiling. He remained where he was, smile only growing wider even as the song eventually came to an end and the bedroom door clicked closed.

“Did you know,” Aiden began as Finn made his way back into the room, “that lions can sleep up to twenty hours a day?”

Finn pulled a face, distinctly both horrified and embarrassed. “You heard that, huh?”

“It’s a good song,” replied Aiden, standing up. “Not exactly what would send me to sleep, but hey, I can’t judge.”

“What would do it for you, then?”

Aiden was thankful for the dim light disguising the heat in his cheeks as ideas flashed through his mind.

Brushing that off, he said, “I don’t normally sleep easy.”

Finn hummed, gesturing for Aiden to join him on the couch. He wordlessly followed, taking in that open silence. And it was that silence that made Aiden continue with a topic that could have just as easily been dropped.

“But it’s been better, since I’ve come out here.” Aiden looked down at his hands, wringing them together. “Have you ever had that need to just…get up and go somewhere? Drop everything you’ve ever known and just…” Aiden made an exploding motion.

“I think everyone has, at least once.”

“Right? And I get that it’s not possible for everyone to do. But I had nothing to lose. Literally nothing.”

Ouch. Aiden was going to regret that tidbit of information in the morning.

“So one day it just clicked. I’d been existing on autopilot—my entire life has passed me by. I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere, my home didn’t feel like mine, my time wasn’t my own, so why should I stick around? So I figured fuck it. For once, I should do what I want. Screw everybody else.” As he let out a laugh that was more of a grunt than anything remotely jovial, Aiden’s hands fell back to his lap. “And that is why you shouldn’t make decisions when you’re sleep deprived.”

“Because they wind you up in another country with amazing company?” Finn threw back, scrunching his face up. “Nah, can’t see why anyone would do that.”

“Come on. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t,” Finn admitted. “You’re not very open about yourself.”

“Or maybe you’re just not paying close enough attention.”

Finn turned his head toward Aiden—giving him his full attention.

“I promise you,” Finn said slowly. And maybe it was the dim light or wishful thinking, but Finn’s eyes seemed to dip downward and then slowly back up Aiden’s form. Aiden’s cheeks warmed at the attention. “I’ve been doing that since we met.”

Since when was Aiden’s throat dry? Was it warm in here or just him? Resisting the urge to shift even closer to Finn on the couch, he managed a weak, “That so?”

Finn hummed. “Haven’t met anyone like you before.”

Aiden didn’t know absolutely everything about Finn, but he knew enough not to take that as a compliment immediately.

“Ridiculous, accident-prone, snarky as shit, infuriating—”

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“—bloody gorgeous, funny, fascinating, and you took everything Millie gave you on the chin. Do you know how rare that is?”

He chose to focus on the last part so that his insides didn’t immediately turn to goo.

“She’s a special kid.”

“She is.” Finn pressed his lips together. “The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“It’s easy to see that.”

“You know, I went through that before. Not feeling like I belonged, that I was sticking around for all the wrong reasons. And one day I figured why stay around?”

Aiden knew exactly how he felt. The burning desire to leave, to do something with your life—no matter how brief. How it could consume you and every waking thought.

“Had my bags packed. Zero concrete plans, but I didn’t care.” Finn took a breath, and Aiden couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “Then Millie’s mum came over, told me she was pregnant. How could I leave then?”

Aiden couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. But he didn’t have to; Finn wasn’t done.

“And before you ask ‘do I regret not going’—I couldn’t.” A small smile traced over Finn’s features, striking even in the low light. “I got lucky. So fucking lucky. I found my home with my baby girl.”

“Millie got lucky, too,” Aiden said softly and, after a brief moment’s deliberation, reached out to rest his hand atop Finn’s knee. “I know today was beyond shit, but you’re such a good dad.”

Finn didn’t move away from Aiden’s touch, and Aiden didn’t remove his hand.

“I don’t know about that,” said Finn, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t notice how upset she was.”

“Because I came with,” Aiden filled in with a slow nod.

“Because she was afraid she was going to get left out again,” Finn corrected. He took a breath, continuing on. “Millie’s mum met someone not long after we split up. Situation could’ve been handled better by all of us. She’d act up, worried that this guy was going to take her mum away from her.”

Finn held up two fingers crossed over each other. “They’re like this. Imogen and Millie. So when Imogen had more dates to go on, someone else was joining them for dinner…”

“Millie didn’t feel so great.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s smile was tight-lipped, devoid of any humor. “I should’ve noticed.”

“You couldn’t have, Finn. Really.” Aiden squeezed his knee again, almost forgetting that his hand was placed there. “It’s not the same. It’s not like I’m here forever. Millie can forget about me in a few weeks.”

“I don’t think anyone could forget about you.”

Finn’s hand came to rest atop Aiden’s. Warm, all encompassing. Aiden gulped.

“Don’t give me that much credit,” he deflected. “So is Millie good now? You guys talked?”

“Yeah, we talked. A lot.” Finn chuckled briefly. “Miracle she sat through it all. But I think she gets it. That she has so many people that would kick my ass if I ever considered doing something like that.”

“You didn’t.”

“Okay, okay. I also said some other things. But I personally think that’s the most important thing to take away.” There was a playful twinkle in Finn’s eye that Aiden was glad to see after today.

“Danielle was about to kick both of our asses,” Aiden acknowledged, the vision of an ice cream scoop forever embedded in his mind.

“I thought you were going to kick my ass if I didn’t get it into gear,” Finn confessed after a moment. Where their hands were once still, Finn started to trace his fingers along the lines of Aiden’s knuckles. “I was freaking out, and you were just. So calm. Like you knew exactly what to do. What you needed me to do.”

“I used to run away from my mam in shops.” Aiden shrugged, giving some bullshit excuse. Really, Aiden had just reacted. Finn was caught up in his head, panicked about what could have happened to Millie. And when people feel panic like that, all rational thought goes out the window. So Aiden had stepped in.

“You’re a good person to have around, Aiden. Your family back home are very lucky.”

Aiden ducked his gaze, swallowing tightly. His situation was different. Aiden didn’t have a kid on the way, or a brother that adored him, or a group of friends that was more like family to him.

(Other than Daire, he admonished himself. Who would undoubtedly kill him if they weren’t considered family.)

What Aiden had back home was a mother that felt he was never doing enough while Aiden broke his back trying to, a sister that had become a distant acquaintance, and a shitty dating history. But he nodded all the same, taking Finn’s words for what they were. An attempt at being nice.

His response was brief, to the point. Said all that he could in that moment. “Thanks.”

“Did you want to stick around a bit?” asked Finn, eyes crinkled at the corners as he frowned. “I can give you a lift home if you want. I’m not keeping you here against your will.”

Aiden’s shoulders relaxed. “I know you’re not. I just…”

“Didn’t expect a repeat?” Finn guessed before shaking his head and backtracking. “It could just be drinks. Or…” He looked around the room, visibly floundering before settling on the TV. “We could watch something?”

“Like a show?”

“Yeah.” Finn nodded, lips pursed together. “There’s this reality show that I’ve been into lately…”

Finn delved into the details of a dating show that sounded just as generic and trashy as the ones Daire loved back home. But Aiden wasn’t paying attention.

Instead, he reveled in the fact that he could make Finn nervous.

Aiden could make someone like Finn nervous.

If he wasn’t sitting beside him, witnessing this rambling in person, then he would have laughed at the concept. Aiden wasn’t that kind of guy. He was friendly and unassuming. Safe, Dan always said. Like coming home to a friend. And who was made jittery by a friend? Finn couldn’t look at him head-on, and when he did, his eyes wandered.

It helped, he supposed, that Finn didn’t know anything about him before he came here. He didn’t know about his Saturday evening routine of ordering in a chipper tea and buckling down for a movie night. Finn hadn’t a clue about his limited dating history. Fumbling with people across the gender spectrum in college before Kat introduced him to Dan. Their almost formulaic sex life.

Aiden could be anyone he wanted here. There were no preconceived perceptions, no word of mouth. Finn had what was in front of him as a frame of reference, and that was it.

So why shouldn’t Aiden just roll with this? This new Aiden didn’t shy away from opportunities or decline an offer in favor of lounging back on the couch like he did back home. No, this Aiden did things, dammit.

And he really wanted to do Finn.

“As interesting as that sounds.” It didn’t at all, but Aiden wasn’t about to be completely obvious about not listening. “I’m pretty okay with this being a repeat.”

“Pretty okay?”

Aiden shifted toward Finn, close enough that their thighs pressed together. He wanted to test something.

“Maybe more than pretty okay,” Aiden allowed, barely disguising his glee when Finn didn’t seem to know what to do with his eyes or hands all of a sudden. “If you are.”

“Me?” Finn said. “C’mon, you already know what I think of you.”

“What was it again?” Aiden said, a playful lilt to his tone. “Ridiculous, annoying…”

One broad hand came to rest on Aiden’s waist. “You forgot bloody gorgeous.”

Aiden had spent a long time being the taller one in his relationship, and tilting his head up to kiss Finn felt weird. Not in a bad way, by any means. There couldn’t be a bad way to kiss Finn. Not when the first contact was like this.

It was easy to forget, to minimize his experience with Finn and convince himself it couldn’t have possibly felt that good. The few days that passed had dissolved this memory from an eye-opening experience about how good he could feel to just a pretty decent hookup.

How the hell had he imagined this as decent?

Arching against Finn, encouraging that hand on his hip to go places a little less chaste, a laugh bubbled to Aiden’s lips unbeknownst to himself. This was happening again. And he couldn’t be happier.

“What?” Finn asked, breath hot against Aiden’s lips.

“Nothing.” Aiden pressed another kiss to his mouth. Firm, fleeting. “M’good.”

“Haven’t gotten started yet.”

With words spoken like a promise, Finn pulled Aiden into his lap and resumed kissing him. Or Aiden was sure he would have, if Finn hadn’t stood up. Aiden made an ugly grunting noise that interrupted proceedings.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” Aiden took a breath, arms secure around Finn’s shoulders. “This is just new.”

“Not a fan?”

“Do not let me down, Dugal.”

Finn threw his head back in a laugh, readjusting and hiking Aiden a bit higher to steady him. The movement jostled Aiden’s phone in his back pocket, and it tumbled noisily to the floor.

“Bugger,” Finn said.

“Wasn’t using it anyway,” Aiden replied. “You wanna get me to your room before Millie wakes up?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice.”

With that, Aiden cupped the side of Finn’s face and pulled him back in for a kiss.

Gentle, unhurried. Perfect.