“That’s really impressive, Finn. I’m glad you made such a good choice and didn’t spend it all on strippers and booze.”

He gave me a crossed arm shrug. “Nah. Only like thirty percent of it went to that.” I smacked his shoulder, and he grinned.

“Come on.” He brought me to the living room, and we sat on the sectional. I curled up in the corner of it and pulled my knees to my chest. Finn reached for a remote and pulled up what used to be my favorite movie of all time: It’s A Wonderful Life.

I didn’t groan or moan as I wanted to. As his guest, and considering how sweet he was, I let it slide. He eyed me when he clicked play, but I didn’t even flinch.

The familiar black and white picture filled the screen. “What are you doing all the way over there?” Finn questioned, opening his arms, and I tilted my head. “Come on, Grinchy. We all know we’re both going to cry by the end of this. I need my emotional support Olive.”

I laughed and scooted closer. He pulled my legs into his lap. Finn Beckett was a smooth criminal.

He traced circles on my shin, and I tried to focus on the movie. A few minutes in, he paused it. “Wait just a second. We’re missing something.”

Finn hopped up from his seat, and my legs chilled from his missing touch. A moment later, he returned with two mugs in his hands and a bag of popcorn dangling from his perfect teeth. I smiled and grabbed a mug from him.

The scent of apple cinnamon wafted up from the mug, and I realized it was cider. We settled back into our previous position, but he wrapped a blanket around us. I took a sip of the drink, surprised by the burn.

“It’s spicy.” I noticed the liquid had a light red tint.

He smiled. “Oh yeah, I put Red Hots in there.”

I paused and gave a sad smile. “My ex used to put Red Hots in his coffee.”

Finn chuckled next to me. “Seriously? In coffee?”

I nodded and laughed. “He said it added a kick.”

Finn took a sip of his own mug and pointed at me. “That should’ve been a red flag.”

We both laughed and shifted our focus back to the movie. He put both of our mugs down and snaked his hands under the blanket, one on my legs, the other tracing circles on my hip.

Two hours, and too much popcorn later, and I was snuggled into Finn’s lap, both of us silent as we focused on the movie. Rewatching a classic, which used to be a favorite of mine, brought back unexpected memories.

“To my brother, George Bailey, the richest man in town.” The TV played my favorite quote, and I couldn’t hold in my tiny sniffle as my eyes watered.