Lover.
A warmth flushed through him from his toes to his face,making his hands tingle. He buried his nose down into his neck gaiter as a smile suffused his face. Sam. God … she was the most wonderful, warm, loving and adorable girl—no, woman, he’d ever known. His chest swelled with love as he pictured her smiling shyly at him earlier. Somehow Maya hadn’t picked up on the vibes between them even though Sam’s eyes had shone, and she’d been soft and silly in the kitchen while sharing his toastie, before she’d grown serious and calm as the time for the qualies had approached.
He loved silly Sam as much as serious Sam; in fact, there wasn’t a thing about her he’d change, not even when she was sassy Sam. He quickened his pace as he got closer to the town. Well, there was one thing he’d change—her father—he wished Sam had a more understanding and supportive father, one who hadn’t just flat-out warned him off his daughter.
The smile fell from Finn’s face. Coach Jake Harrington knew every single person in the industry. Young, old, whatever sport it was, he’d contacts everywhere. Something told Finn that his coach didn’t make threats lightly. Not once in all the years he’d been under Jake Harrington’s guidance, had he ever seen his coach go back on his word. At the start of their coaching relationship, Uncle Henry had warned him not to step out of line with Coach Harrington, and he hadn’t. He’d been afraid to. All these years he’d jumped when Coach said jump, had followed every rule, gone to every training session, and more especially, he’d kept away from Sam even when his heart had told him otherwise.
But today everything had changed. He and Sam, they were both at the pinnacle of their careers, with new greatand previously unconsidered opportunities opening up for them at every stage. Sam was fitter than she’d ever been—he was too. There was no doubt that they’d both go home with medals … if they didn’t mess things up by concentrating on the wrong thing. Each other. And that’s exactly what had happened earlier—he was sure of it. She’d been fine until he’d selfishly followed his heart, and his cock. She’d planned to outdo herself in that qualie, he knew it. Big air was one of her favorites and she’d be feeling crap now. If only he’d had some sense and hadn’t asked her to join him in the hot tub.
A shadow walked toward him as he reached the town, waved and then ran. Finn’s heart leaped in his chest.Sam.
“Hey!” He waved back as she got closer. Puffing, she pushed back the faux-fur-lined hood of her jacket as she ran toward him. Her face was pale, her mouth unsmiling. He knew that she was probably kicking herself over that last run. She always did when she knew she could have done better. How the hell was he going to tell her that it was his fault? That he shouldn’t have distracted her that way—that had been very unfair, and exactly what Coach had been warning him against. He couldn’t say that last part, not about her father, but maybe he’d have the guts to say the rest, and maybe his heart would withstand the inevitable pain.
He stopped walking, pushed his hands deep into his pockets, and waited for her to reach him. She gave him a half-smile as she stood before him, slightly lower on the slope beneath him.
“Hey, where did you go?” She laid her hand on his arm. “I saw your beanie then nothing. It was like you’ddisappeared! I searched everywhere for you—don’t leave me like that again, d’ya hear? I needed you.”
Finn’s heart sank. “Sorry, sorry—I had to run to the bathroom. I thought I’d be back on time.” Some excuse, pathetic, useless. He shrugged, disgusted at his half-ass attempt to smooth things over. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Well, of course you didn’t.” Sam squeezed his arm. “You gotta go when you gotta go.”
Finn half smiled. “You okay?”
Sam’s lips, those plump, glossy, pink lips he’d kissed only hours ago, twisted into a grimace. “Not really. How much did you actually see?”
“All of it, well, most of it …” He almost forgot about his running to the bathroom lie. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking, but Sam, it’s just the first competitionandyou got through to the finals. That was the goal, wasn’t it?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I very nearly didn’t. I scraped through, Finn. I knew I’d messed up the minute I hit the air. Knew it.”
Finn took her hand and tucked it into his pocket. They started walking down the street.
“What do you think went wrong?” he asked tentatively. He crossed the fingers of his other hand, praying that she’d say anything other than what had happened between them.
“I, uh,” Sam started. He felt her hand tighten in his. “My head wasn’t in the game and my mind was racing—I couldn’t concentrate.”
Finn steeled himself. He took a deep breath, hauling the icy air down into his lungs before speaking.
“Was it … was it because of what we did earlier?Because if it was, then we should probably not …” A heaviness wrapped around Finn’s shoulders, settling in his chest, deep in his heart as he said it, completely at odds with the hum of excitement that spilled from almost every bar in the small town. The bars overflowed with people, the air thick with lively music and chatter. Finn couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t want to be there anymore. He just wanted to be alone, with Sam. Alone somewhere where they could talk it all through.
Sam shook her head slowly. She seemed to take a minute before she answered him.
“No. It was all me. I was indecisive up there. Honestly, Finn—it wasn’t about … us.”
“Indecisive?” he croaked, then cleared his throat. The heaviness in his chest lightening a little but returning again as he looked down the street that was heaving with winter sports fanatics. In the distance he saw Coach Harrington stomping through the crowds. It looked as if he was heading to their hotel, but in the dark Finn couldn’t be sure. It also looked as if he was walking toward them. Finn pulled his hand from his pocket, Sam’s too, and let her hand go. Immediately he regretted it as Coach Harrington’s back came into view beneath a streetlamp. He was walking away from them and probably hadn’t seen them. From the corner of his eye, he caught Sam’s hurt expression. Her little frown disappeared as quickly as a shooting star skims the sky. She pulled her mittens on and readjusted her hat.
“Oh, nothing,” Sam continued as if nothing had happened. “Just what to do, I suppose, what trick to do …” Finn flinched. He knew that tone in her voice so well. Shewas covering something up, not telling him the truth. And the truth was, in his opinion, that he’d been the cause of her indecisiveness. He’d caused her to double-take up there, and that had nearly cost her a place in the final.
Sam carried on talking. “And then there’s my dad. He really laid into me when I got to the center. He said I’ve been slacking off—and that I need to smarten up because the way I’m going it looks like I won’t get a medal—and apparently this is my one chance. And telling me that I’ll be too old for the 2030 Games or something ridiculous like that—2030! I’ll be only twenty-seven by then. That’s not too old!”
Finn looked down, hating that he agreed with Jake, hating that Sam seemed to be considering what Jake was saying—that she wouldn’t win a medal this time. “Maybe you should listen to him. You have to make the most of this opportunity.” Finn cringed as Sam stared up at him. “You can’t be indecisive, you just can’t. One bad fall, Sam, that’s all it takes. One. What if you got injured? Then you’re out—possibly forever. This might be your only chance.”
“Not you too,” Sam blurted. “Between you and my dad—you’ll both have me in a geriatric ward before I’m twenty-four.” Her voice rose. “Why do you guys think, that I won’t want to try, at least, for the next Games? What do you think will happen to me after these ones? I won’t be giving up anytime soon, you know. And, by the way, in case you didn’t know, plenty of athletes compete in the Games more than once, and plenty are over twenty-three—I’m not getting too old! It’s like you men all think that a woman can only be interested in one thing at a time! Well, I’mnotinterested in babies and weddings and being a bridesmaid or whateverother crap you all think a woman should be interested in once she hits a certain age. I’m not! I will never want to stop doing this—whatever it is!”
“Shit, Sam, I didn’t mean that.” Finn stopped walking. Reaching for Sam, he pulled her to him, closer than he normally would. Wishing he had the balls to kiss her right here, among the crowds and the buzzing streets. She leaned up against him, her mouth inches from his. It was like she was begging for his touch, wanting him to kiss her too.Damn. If only he could tell her how much she meant to him, and that he didn’t want anything to get in the way of her dreams—not even him. His breath caught under his ribs as his heart hammered so loudly, he was sure she’d feel his pulse. Her breath warmed his lips. God, he wanted to kiss those lips … “You know I didn’t mean that. I said it all wrong.”
Her green eyes glared up at him, then softened. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Her arms tightened around him, and he closed his eyes as he pulled her close, snuggling her in under his chin, her hat slipping backwards on her head. Her hair smelled like the shampoo she’d used earlier, sweet vanilla and warm jasmine. This was heaven. It was better than winning any gold in any games. A giggle from someone nearby broke the moment. He glanced up. A huddle of friends stood across the street, phones out, were grinning like they’d just stumbled across a celebrity. It would be everywhere in minutes, this private moment between him and Sam. Instagram reels. TikTok edits with sparkles and romantic music. Maya would be thrilled. Coach less so. He stiffened as another small groupof people stopped to see what was going on. He heard his name, then Sam’s. Someone laughed, excitedly. More phones raised in the air. Finn’s stomach dipped. This was weird. It wasn’t like the press shots or sponsorship reels he was used to—the kind where you knew the angle, held the smile, controlled the story. This was raw, messy, and real. He loosened his arms around her as she peeped over her shoulder at their accidental paparazzi.
