Love at first sight? Not real.

Probably not, anyway. Maybe it happened to some people, but not everyone. It was certainly not something Finn expected to happen to him.

Well, maybe it could.

It wouldn’t.

But it might.

If it was going to happen, now was the perfect time—new job, fresh start, a whole city full of people. It would just take one, after all.

Worth trying, anyway.

His first date in Oakport was with Albert. They matched on a dating app. It was definitely something at first sight, although Finn suspected that something was lust… Hard to tell the difference in the moment.

“Albert?” he asked the man at the bar, even though he knew Albert from his profile pics. He was Finn’s type—tall and lean, smiley, tousled hair.

“Finn?” Albert grinned.

“Great to meet you,” Finn said, shaking his hand.

“You too.” Albert studied him up and down in a way that made Finn’s dick twitch. “Want to go back to your place and fuck?”

Finn laughed as he sat considering the offer. “You’re on the wrong app, Albert.”

Albert’s green eyes twinkled. “Doesn’t change my question.”

Finn pushed his ginger curls back, taking in the way Albert’s cuffs were rolled up, displaying sculpted forearms. “Why arrange to meet here if you just want to fuck?”

Albert shrugged and tossed back the rest of his cocktail. “Making sure you matched your pictures.” He eyed where Finn’s T-shirt pulled tight over his biceps.

Finn rested an arm on the bar and leaned in. “So you like what you see?”

Albert nodded and inched closer on his stool, gaze now dropping to Finn’s lap. “And now I want to see the rest.”

Albert came back to Finn’s place. And came at his place. Finn hadn’t even gotten his breath back yet when Albert rolled over and looked at his phone. “That was great. I’ve gotta get going. I’ll call you.”

He never called.

So, lust—definitely lust.

It wasn’t quite as easy to tell with Safa. They had sex on the first date too, then there were more dates. At least five, by Finn’s count, plus he ran into her at the charity 5K. Anyway, they spent enough time together that there was something more than lust, but she broke up with him because, quote, “My cat thinks you’re too loud.”

You’re choosing your cat over me? was the question that came to Finn’s mind, but that was where it stayed, because there were some questions he shouldn’t have to ask. Plus that cat was an asshole.

Scott was hot but had no sense of humor. He didn’t laugh at a single thing Finn said, not even his standard first date dirty jokes.

Wynn was rude to servers. Next.

With Luka, gorgeous Luka, there had been promise, at least. When Finn had seen him for the first time, he had felt warm all over. Luka was new at their office—young and sparkling, brown hair flopping into his forehead, killer blue eyes, sharp dresser. The two of them were the only openly queer men at Breakpoint and had gravitated toward each other instantly. In fact, Luka asked him to go for a drink after work at the end of his first week. Finn said yes without hesitation.

Finn took him to the Bitter Exchange, a new pub that had opened only a few blocks from the office. It was dim and already grimy somehow, but the wings were excellent and the beer was cheap. After the requisite chit-chat and delivery of their pitcher, they started diving into more personal topics.

“So, where did you go to school?” Luka asked before taking his first sip.

“U State, you?”

“Bryerson.”

“I dated a couple from Bryerson once.” Finn remembered it fondly.

Luka quirked his brow. “Like…at the same time?”

Finn shrugged. “Not exactly. I went out with her first a few times, and then him, but when he brought me home, she showed up.”

Luka grimaced. “Awkward.”

The grin stretched across Finn’s face. “It was at first, but then we had a threesome.”

Luka almost choked on his drink. “How did that go?”

“It became a bit of a competition between the two of them to see who could get me off first, so…really, really good.”

Luka’s laugh warmed Finn’s heart. He laughed a lot at all of Finn’s dumb jokes.

They swapped stories with not a single lull or awkward pause in the conversation the whole night until the place was closing and the owner was glaring at them from behind the bar. There was a moment, though, watching Luka lick a stray drop of beer off his lip, when Finn realized there was no zing, no lust or love. But there was a lot of laughter and warmth and the beginnings of friendship, and that felt exactly right.

Toward the end of the evening, Luka asked Finn for his hair-care regimen. Finn did have the softest, shiniest hair around, and he spent a decent chunk of money on products to keep it that way. He couldn’t leave those curls to their own devices.

“That would be telling,” Finn said, narrowing his eyes at Luka. “Can’t have you stealing my Sexiest Guy at the Office crown. Shiny hair might push you over the top.”

Luka stuck out his lower lip. “Pretty please? I’ll be your best friend.”

Finn only paused for another second before giving up his secret. Luka ordered the whole product line right then on his phone.

Finn didn’t mind if his new friend had hair just as shiny as his.

* * * *

So the dating continued, for a year, then two, then more. There were lulls where he didn’t bother with the app as much, ignoring the notifications, spending more time with Luka or at the gym, or on his painting or charity work. He even took up the guitar at one point. Other times it was a whirlwind. Remy. Sonja. Wu. Benjamin. But no matter how many dates he went on, it was just a string of not for me, no way in hell, and are you fucking kidding me?, plus one oh shit, should I be calling the police right now?

Tonight’s date was with Tiana, a pretty nurse with a four-year-old daughter and a dry sense of humor in her profile that made Finn chuckle. Finn had chosen a place he’d never been to before—an imposing wine bar with black and scarlet walls and gothic accents. He and Tiana had agreed to meet at the main bar, so, a few minutes early, he settled onto a stool to wait.

When the bartender asked if he could get a drink started, Finn glanced at the time. Tiana was only a couple minutes late at this point, but why not? He ordered a glass of the Sartini Courbis and relished the first sip as it tingled over his taste buds. At least if the date sucked, it sucked over top of a truly stellar glass of wine.

He finished it off examining the wall of fancy wine bottles behind the bar, gaze drifting down the collection of gold and silver labels. At the far end, where the bar turned to meet the wall, his gaze landed on a person sitting alone. The buzz that swept over Finn left the tingle from the wine in the dust.

The person had a lean, compact frame, with toned biceps revealed by short black sleeves. The T-shirt read ‘they/them’ in white letters across the chest. Straight black hair fell onto their forehead but was shaved short on the sides. Tattoos wound down both arms, with two piercings glittering on the ear Finn could see, and one in their nose.

Finn’s heart pounded. The person suddenly glanced up, but Finn dropped his eyes before they could meet, face flushing. Shit, how much wine had he chugged? He dared to risk another quick look, but the person’s attention was drawn by a man who had arrived and was leaning up against the bar right next to them.

Finn narrowed his eyes as he studied the intruder. At first, he couldn’t make out anything the man was saying, but his body language—broad gestures, swaying on his feet and listing right into the other person’s space—screamed ‘drunk.’

The person in black nodded politely a few times, then began to study their phone. As the one-sided conversation went on, Finn could tell by the tightness in their jaw and shoulders they were not enjoying the attention.

The drunk man’s voice was growing louder, then, as he put his hand on their shoulder and tugged, his words reached Finn. “Hey! I’m tryna talk to you!”

Finn was on his way. He didn’t hit the gym every single morning for nothing. He was at the end of the bar in less than a breath, inserting himself into the drunk man’s space.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” he asked, voice deep and authoritative.

The man slid his gaze over to Finn, blurry and unfocused. Really drunk.

“Nah,” the man said. “Jus’ chatting with my frien’ here.”

“I’m not your friend.” It was quiet but firm. “And yes, there is a problem.”

“Look.” Finn shuffled a step closer, glare cranked up a notch. “Your attention is not wanted here. Move on.”

“Wha’s your problem? I’s just talking.”

Finn waved an arm, indicating the direction in which the man should begin moving.

The man sneered, expression sliding from annoyed into surly. “What’re you gonna do, Red? You gonna kick my ass?”

Finn chuckled, scratching his nose and flexing his biceps.

The man’s eyes bulged, perhaps now noticing Finn’s broad shoulders and thick chest.

“I don’t want to,” Finn replied evenly, “but if you don’t fuck off on your own in about five seconds, I will make you.”

The man grunted and stumbled away, jostling Finn and a few others as he passed. He couldn’t resist yelling “fucking prick” over his shoulder once he was a safe distance through the crowd.

Finn barely heard it because he was drowning in the deep, dark-brown eyes that were locked onto his.

“Thanks,” the person in black said, lips quirking into a shy smile.

Finn’s heart fluttered. “No problem.” His fingers twitched with the bizarre urge to push those black strands off their forehead. What the fuck?

A head flick tossed them back without Finn’s help. “That was really nice of you.”

Finn’s face burned. It had to be a brighter red than his hair by now. “Happy to help.”

The face watching him was impossibly beautiful and serene. “I’m Rory.”

Finn tried not to trip over his tongue. “Hi, Rory. I’m—”

“Finn?” The voice came from behind him.

He whirled. “Oh.” His mind scrambled to put a name to the face. “Tiana?”

“That’s right.”

She was cute and smiling and all Finn wanted to do was turn around and get back to Rory.

“I grabbed us a table, if that’s okay?” Tiana pointed toward the back of the bar, smile faltering for a moment at the extended pause from Finn.

“Of course, yeah, I just—” He turned to say goodbye—or something—to Rory, but the manager had come over to apologize for the disturbance, and Rory was facing away from Finn, talking to her over the counter. “Sounds great.” Finn smiled at Tiana and followed her to their table. He couldn’t see the bar from his seat, but he didn’t stop thinking about Rory the rest of the night.

* * * *

The next morning, Finn flopped onto the extra chair in Luka’s office, his favorite place to be at work. Luka had a way of making the sharp edges of the world a little softer, and the world had been especially sharp lately.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked Luka without any preamble.

“Oof.” Luka stopped typing and spun in his chair to face Finn. “Does that mean your date went really bad or really good?”

Finn rubbed his beard. “She grilled me for twenty minutes on why I’m still single, so I pretended I had a work emergency and left.” With no sign of Rory on his way out.

Luka cringed. “Shit. Sorry, man.”

“So.” Finn straightened the pleat on his pants. “Do you?”

Luka stretched out a long leg as his mouth curled in an apologetic smile. “Yeah. I think so. It was love at first sight for my parents. They’ve been together for almost forty years.”

Finn nodded, not sure which answer he had been wanting to hear. “Have you ever been in love?” Luka had had a few boyfriends along the way, but none stuck, and there hadn’t been anyone lately.

Luka sighed. “I wanted to be, for a bit… Have you?”

Finn shook his head so hard his hair bounced. “Nah, man. Not yet.”

“Hey, guys.” Tawney’s tight brown curls and bright smile popped into Luka’s office as she rapped on the doorframe. “Did you see the email? Ilona wants us in the conference room in twenty. The new head of Analytics is here.”

“Already?” Luka asked. “Didn’t they just fill that spot like yesterday?”

Tawney shrugged. “Guess they were eager to start. See you there!”

Luka clicked over to his email and began reading. “ ‘We are thrilled to welcome Rory Barrett (they/them) to Breakpoint Advertising. Rory joins us as head of analytics with a wealth of experience—’”

Finn’s heart stopped. “Rory?”

“That’s right… Why?”

Finn’s heart slammed back into action, hammering his ribcage. There’s no way… That would be impossible. “Rory? You’re sure?”

“Yes, Rory! What’s up?”

Finn shook his head. “Nothing, it’s just… I met someone named Rory last night before my date arrived and…”

“And what?”

“Nothing. It’s probably not them.”

Luka eyed him. “Are we hoping it’s them?”

Finn shrugged dismissively. “Whatever.”

“Hmm.” Luka cocked an eyebrow, way too smug. “Sure.”

Finn’s heart only beat harder as the appointed time approached, and he crept into the conference room behind Luka, terrified and hopeful at the same time. He examined the room, then his stomach crashed into his shoes.

It was Rory. That Rory. Beautiful, calm, impossibly deep eyes Rory.

The black T-shirt had been replaced with a short-sleeved button-down, black with a subtle gray pattern, but otherwise they looked pretty much the same.

Rory’s eyes lit up with recognition when they saw Finn. Finn was smiling before he could play it cool, but Rory smiled back.

Don’t stare, Finn told himself, looking down to avoid tripping over his chair. Jesus, man. Get it together.

He might have stared a little, though, leg jittering under the table, as the introductions began.

Ilona went around the table until she got to Luka, who was sitting on Finn’s left. “This is Luka Moreno, one of our project managers…”

Luka flashed Rory his patented killer smile as they nodded and murmured greetings.

“And,” Ilona continued, “this is Finn Owens, lead designer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Finn,” Rory said warmly, eyes bright.

Finn’s brain spun madly, discarding the stupid joke he would normally have made about IT nerds, then the dumb comment on Rory’s tattoos, searching for something witty…charming…welcoming to say instead. “Hello, Rory,” was what he came up with.

He could feel Luka looking at him sideways. Finn ignored him, dizzy, as the introductions continued around the table.

And this time, he hadn’t even had any wine.