Page 70 of On Thin Ice

Finn glanced over at him. “You talked about me?”

“Uh, only the Reynolds as an abstract concept,” Jacob said, suddenly uncomfortable. This had seemed like such a good idea last night—better, anyway, than the really catastrophically bad idea of finally letting himself kiss Finn—but maybe it wasn’t.

Maybe it had just seemed less bad in comparison.

“I’m Finn,” Finn said, extending a hand. “Nice to meet both of you.”

“Sophie,” she said, shooting him a pleased smile.

“Mark,” his agent said, shaking Finn’s hand next. “So when you categorically refused to work with either the father or the son, did you already know Finn here?”

Jacob winced as Finn shot him a pleased look as he took his seat.

“No. Not really,” Jacob admitted. “But . . .circumstances changed.”

“Clearly,” Sophie murmured.

“Can I get the matching set?” Mark wondered.

“Finn’s only here as a sounding board,” Jacob said firmly. “Finn and Finnonly. You can’t breathe a word to anyone he was here. Especially anyone who might get back to Morgan.”

“Ooooh,” Sophie teased, “asecret rendezvous.Sexy. I like it.”

“Not sexy . . .not . . .” Jacob trailed off.

But Sophie and Mark weren’t stupid and they knew him well. Surely they could see how he could barely tear his eyes away from Finn in that delectable suit.

“Alright,” Sophie said kindly, clearly taking pity on him and patting his hand supportively. He knew later, probably tomorrow, she’d call and pin him down. He’d probably tell her how he felt about Finn long before he ever confessed it to Finn himself.

Of course, if he kept his head about him, he’dneverconfess to Finn how he felt.

Someday, he’d end up with that boyfriend who he’d be out for, and this whole thing with Finn would fade like a fever dream.

But Jacob already knew, a solid deep down certainty, that no matter how great or hot or kind the boyfriend was, Finn would linger forever in the back of his mind. The one that got away.

“Jacob?”

Jacob’s attention returned to the table, feeling short of breath and acutely aware of how shitty that would be. “What?”

Mark shot him an impatient look. “Did you bring wine or should we order something from the wine list?” He waved the folio in front of him.

“I . . .uh . . .I’ll pick something out,” Jacob said, plucking it from Mark’s fingers. Focusing on a purpose might keep his brain from short-circuiting over the realization he hadn’t wanted to have.

He glanced over at Finn from under the cover of the wine list. He was laughing at something Sophie said, and Jacob’s dick twitching was not new. But his heart was clenching too, and thatwas.

Morgan would absolutely kill him. But when had he ever given a shit about what Morgan did and didn’t like?

“So you’re some kind of wine expert, huh?” Finn asked, leaning over, making Jacob light-headed with how good he smelled.

Like candy-coated sin.

“Don’t let him tell you any differently,” Mark said.

“It’s a hobby,” Jacob said modestly.

“Surprised he hasn’t told you about his collection yet,” Sophie said.

“I did see some wine when I was at your house, on that big wall in your living room?” Finn questioned.

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