Chapter Twenty-Four

Thankfully, Finn didn’t mention the sudden extension of Aiden’s holiday. If anything, he found reason to celebrate it. He arranged for the two of them to go to Sam’s for dinner to mark the occasion.

Finn’s obvious excitement brought a flurry of flattery for Aiden, thrown off by the concept of someone being thrilled by his prolonged presence and the realization that Finn wanted him here. At least for now.

And that sure as shit was enough to keep Aiden walking on air for the next few days, right up until it clicked just how difficult it was to plan a fundraiser. He’d lost count of how many calls he’d made, each greeting starting with, “Hi there. My name is Aiden Cole, and I’m organizing a fundraiser on behalf of Schultz’s Scuba. Marlee gave me your number. I was wondering if you would be interested in participating?”

As per his experience in a call center, Aiden had braced himself for a litany of a “no” and “fuck you,” but not one met his ears. Instead, their voices softened at the mention of the Schultzes, and they spoke of their eagerness to help in whatever way they could. A week and a half into organizing, and Aiden had secured the beach, along with activities the locals were more than happy to help with.

Which is when Aiden started to look further afield. Getting everyone in Canlaroy interested in helping was huge; he understood that. But it was only a small town, and fifteen grand was a hell of a lot for anyone to cough up—even with the best intentions. So Aiden borrowed Finn’s computer to put his long-since-abandoned graphic design skills to work. Skills may be putting it a little too strongly, considering his one-module of experience in university, but all he needed was the basics to get his point across. An advertisement for the benefit, and a chance to win a scuba lesson with every donation.

Aiden might be pushing it a bit with the last one, but he had every intention of passing it by Finn before posting it anywhere.

If he had the opportunity to, at least.

With Millie back at her mum’s and Finn at a meeting, Aiden had the house to himself. And as much as he enjoyed the company of the two of them, after the organizing he was excited to get some rest. To curl up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, catching up on the last few soap opera episodes he’d missed.

Midway through the season finale, and at least ten episodes since Finn left that morning, the front door opened and soon clicked closed.

“Heya,” Aiden called, eyes trained on the screen. “I don’t think the wedding’s going ahead.”

But Finn wasn’t in the mood to hear about a soap-land wedding. He took a few long strides toward him and deposited his laptop on the table, flicking open the screen.

“What’s up?” Aiden pushed himself up, running a hand over his cheek. “This something to do with the meeting?”

Finn’s answer was a short and stern “No” that startled Aiden to full attention. Adjusting his gaze to Finn’s, he found the man’s demeanor entirely unreadable. And that was what made Aiden panic.

“What—”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Finn said as the screen booted up. “Once this loads.”

Aiden sat there in stony silence, studying Finn’s expression for any telltale signs of whatever could be going on. If it was good, bad. If he—

Aiden’s heart plummeted from his chest and right to the floor below as his shitty poster stared back at him. It showed a diver deep in the ocean. Text around the illustrated figure advertised a free scuba lesson to one lucky raffle ticket holder.

Finn’s voice was quiet, unassuming. But the clench of his jaw was all too telling. “What scuba lesson, Aiden?”

Aiden opened his mouth and closed it again. The difficulty he was having with reading Finn’s expression was now long gone, instead replaced by the dawning realization that he was facing an angry Finn. A side of Finn he hadn’t gotten to see yet. And while he’d been excited to learn about the many facets of FiFi, this wasn’t one he was eager to become acquainted with.

“What fucking website?”

“I don’t actually know how to set up a website,” Aiden said, voice barely above a whisper. “I was spitballing, I—”

“Not to mention that I didn’t know that Schultz’s Scuba needed saving.” Finn’s voice grew low, seething, freezing Aiden in place. “Least of all from someone who doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

“Tam told me.” Aiden swallowed, standing his ground. Or, well, sitting. “That repairs were expensive, and Marlee said—”

“Marlee?” Finn took a step back, letting out a sharp exhale. “What else have you been doing behind my back?”

“I haven’t been doing anything behind your back,” Aiden said, managing to stand on shaky legs.

“No?” Finn’s expression was sad, hurt, but he was powering through it. “Then why was I stopped in the middle of town by Millie’s teacher wishing me the best of luck with the fundraiser?”

Aiden’s mouth opened and shut like a goddamn fish floundering out of water.

“Okay, maybe I was doing something behind your back. But I was going to tell you.”

“What? That you deemed my business down the fucking drain and designated yourself as the person that’s gonna single-handedly save it?” Finn countered, fixing him with a look that seized Aiden’s heart in his chest.

“I didn’t deem it that,” Aiden said, desperate. “I heard you talking to Ryan.”

“Oh?” Another step back from Aiden. “So you eavesdrop on my conversations now?”

“No.” Aiden pulled a face, caught out. “Just that one time.”

“Because that makes it so much better.”

“Finn, c’mon.” If Aiden’s tone took a pleading note, it wasn’t something he could help. Finn looked moments away from walking right out that door. “Let’s sit down. I’ll talk you through my ideas—a lot of people really want to help.”

“No, Aiden. I’m not going to sit down.” Finn took another step back, putting physical distance between them. “I’m not going to listen to how you guilted this community into emptying their pockets out of pity. I’m not going to listen to how you felt so entitled to insert yourself into my life to fix it.”

Aiden tried to speak, but Finn wasn’t finished.

“Do yourself a favor and fix your own life before you focus on anyone else’s. Because it’s a bloody mess.”

Just like that, it felt as though all the air was pushed from Aiden’s lungs. The world spun on its axis, and the only thing that kept him upright was the stiffness in his legs alone. In the background, the dramatic moment of the show rang out—gasps and screams from the wedding audience, tears prickling at the corners of Aiden’s eyes.

“That’s…” Aiden took a breath, eyes on his bare feet. “Fair. Very fair.”

Venturing a glance at Finn, Aiden quickly averted his gaze again once he saw the tight line of his jaw and the flush to his cheeks.

“I just wanted to help.”

“Help yourself feel better, sure.” Finn exhaled. He suddenly looked very tired. “I’m going to go for a walk. I think it would be best if you went to Ryan’s in the meantime.”

Aiden should say something; he should apologize; he should explain why he did what he did. Why he clearly overstepped like he did.

But what did Aiden do instead?

Absolutely nothing.

He stood there like a damn lemon and watched Finn leave.

Ryan’s house was once an idyllic getaway that Aiden found solace in. One step inside and he could breathe like a free man, a fresh restart. But when he returned after weeks of being away, it felt like he was stepping back in time. Back to the start, to when he looked as much of a mess as he felt. When Dan and Kat plagued his thoughts, before a time with Finn, Millie, Adie, Tam, and Marlee.

Before he felt like he was home for the first time in years.

Locking the door behind him, Aiden slumped to the floor against it and drew his knees to his chest. His bags sat beside him, and he had zero intention of unpacking them again. Hell, if he could have his way he wouldn’t move from this spot until his flight in a week and a half.

A week and a half in the town where he’d become a nuisance.

How had he let himself get so carried away? So firmly butting into someone else’s life that he had no business being involved in. Making assumptions he had no right to make, taking liberties toward a person he’d only known for a short period of time.

Aiden had let himself get lost in the fantasy that he knew Finn more than he actually did. And worse, that he knew what was best for the man and his family. Maybe Finn was right.

Aiden rested his chin atop his knees.

Maybe he’d been so consumed by the possibility of helping because he was incapable of fixing his own life. Moving halfway across the world for a holiday wasn’t fixing his problems—it was actively running from them. Running from Dan, from Kat, from the fucking rent.

From his own mother.

Nausea churned in his gut, but he didn’t dare to move. He wasn’t sure if he physically could, and if he did he might throw up.

He should call everyone, let them know that the fundraiser was off. Come clean, say that Finn knew nothing about this and that his company was doing just fine. He’d tell a bold-faced lie if it would help the mess he’d single-handedly created.

But once he picked up the phone, he couldn’t bring himself to dial those numbers. Couldn’t face what he had to say, that he’d messed up. That he’d overstepped, intruded on this man’s life far more than what was needed. The sheer thought of explaining that over and over again was embarrassing. Aiden threw his phone aside.

He could do that later. Right now, he needed to think about how to deal with this.