My mouth opened and closed. Any “game” I’d accumulated in my twenty-five years was lost. “You said you went back home for Oktoberfest. Any plans to do it again soon?” Oh, how I longed to bury myself under the blanket or crawl into a hole in a tree like a possum.

“I’m not sure.” His eyes were the shade of cognac and equally intoxicating. “Why?”

“You said you were homesick.” It was the perfect opening to gauge his interest in seeing me after this was over, but I was too afraid of the answer and having too much fun to risk it. I was still reeling from Derek’s rejection of my story the day before.

“I have no solid plans to go back to Manhattan, but I might visit my sister in Brooklyn.”

“How nice! Are you guys close? I always wanted a sibling when I was younger. Was it like a twenty-four-seven playdate?” I emptied a few more chips into my hand.

“Maybe when we were really little.” He peeled the label halfway off his beer bottle until the top half curled over. “Our adult lives are just very different.” He turned the movie back on.

I nibbled on a chip, debating whether to say my next words, and then went ahead and did it. “Can I ask you something personal? Feel free to say no.”

He paused the movie again and turned to me. “Shoot.”

“You mentioned you were once homeless. How did it happen? How old were you?”

Finn stilled.

I fisted the blanket at my side. Perhaps the timing was off. But when would be better? During sex? Besides, if he shared, it might mean he trusted me…that I was more than a fuck buddy. If he blew me off, I’d have my answer. My eyes locked onto his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

After an awkward lull, he spoke. “I was thirteen. My mom had just died. All our money went for her treatments. Their health insurance was for shit.”

“Oh, Finn.” I was hit with an urge to wrap my arms around him and hold him tenderly. But I didn’t dare. Instead, I scooted an inch closer and squeezed his knee encouragingly.

He curved his fingers around mine. “My dad lived paycheck to paycheck as a high school librarian but lost his job after missing so many days of work visiting my mom. We couldn’t pay the rent on our fancy apartment in Westchester and were evicted. My parents…they didn’t manage their money well, spent beyond our means. I couldn’t live without my Game Boy, and Jill would die if she was the only girl in her class without designer clothes.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys blame yourselves.”

“We don’t. Jill blamed my dad. I blame poor money management and greedy pharmaceutical companies.”

“How did you finally get out from under it?”