“Can you believe it—he gave the sponsorship to Becky!?” Sam stormed through the door and out into the street where the snow had left little drifts up against the buildings and curbs. The snow had stopped, and the stars had come out. Her breath billowed in front of her as she stomped across the street.
Finn stuck his hands deep into his jeans pockets. It had gotten significantly colder since the sun had set. “I’m sorry. Do you really think he did that?”
“Of course he did!” Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Iknow my dad—and that deal was mine, Finn. Right up until this moment I thought … I thought that it was.” She swiped her hands over her hair, loosening blonde tendrils that settled around her face. “Look, I know why they prefer Becky over me. It’s my big mouth. It gets me in trouble all the time. But he’s my dad—he should’ve wanted this for me. Not for her!”
“I agree,” Finn said. “This sucks, Sam. I can’t believe it. And I’m so sorry. But, Sam, do you really think it’s because of your—how did you put it—big mouth?”
“It has to be—what else could it be? He’s warned me to stop bringing up the lack of opportunity for women in sport. He’s told mestop being so feminist! But if I don’t talk about it, who will!? Argh! I’m so frustrated and angry.”
“I can tell. Want to talk about it?”
“It’s crazy, Finn!” Sam paced up and down the street, more wisps of blonde hair escaping from her long braid as she ran her hand over her head again. “Here we are—the day before my first Olympic qualie, and I have to deal with this: an engagementandlosing a sponsorship because my own father couldn’t advocate for me! Crazy! Doesn’t anyone else see how huge this is—this is so huge!” Her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes sparkled. Finn couldn’t stop looking at her. Although he’d never told her and never intended to, he’d always been turned on by Angry Sam, and right now he couldn’t help but wonder if she looked this way after sex, or if she’d be softer and gentle. Hopefully a little of both.
He shook himself.What the hell? This wasn’t the way friends—best friends—thought of each other.Damn, now that he’d imagined her in bed, it was hard to get the imageout of his head, but he had to. It had been like this for ages now; she was all he could think about. And he’d an inkling that she’d had a few thoughts about him ever since she’d walked in on him naked last week. She said it was an accident but what if it wasn’t? What if she’d— No, Sam wasn’t like that. Not even now when her teammate had gotten engaged—it was as if she didn’t even see the romance in it all. She was focused on her sport first and foremost, and always had been ever since they’d met, but even more so after they’d made that stupid pact to keep their friendship and going for gold first and foremost. To keep their mutual attraction to each other out of their minds until they’d achieved their dream of taking home an Olympic gold medal. It was killing him. He sighed. He’d put Sam out of his mind a long time ago, ever since she’d spit on her hand to shake on their deal.
They’d been walking home after her prom—Coach Harrington had called him and made him take her when her date had bailed—and he’d jumped at the order. Anything to spend more time with her. He’d been freezing that night, having offered her his jacket as they’d strolled hand in hand back through the town. He remembered he’d felt like a real man doing what he’d always seen his dad doing for his mom, and how they’d talked all night long.
He could still hear her laughing at Maya getting a piggyback from her date because her feet were sore. Maya had given up on her heels after bravely dancing in them for hours, claiming that for one night only she was going to dance like tomorrow didn’t exist, and that no one was to ever mention that she danced barefoot to anyone, ever.
He’d laughed as Sam had lifted her dress to show her flat shoes.
“Clever move,” he’d said, unsure of what else to say.
“I need my ankles,” she’d retorted. “I value my comfort.”
“Don’t you ever wear heels?” he’d ventured.
Sam had tilted her head at him and smiled before answering. “Not often. Do you?”
He’d burst out laughing. “Touché!”
“You’d better believe it,” she’d said. “Do you have a thing for shoes, heels—is that it?”
He’d gone the deepest shade of cranberry under her gaze. No girl had ever been so forward with him. “Um, no … It’s more like, well, shoes are pretty, and women have nice feet. Why the hell am I telling you this?”
“I dunno, Finn, why are you telling me this?” Sam had nudged him with her elbow as they’d walked companionably side by side.
“Let’s change the subject.” He remembered stopping outside the hardware store, not wanting the night to end. “Slow down or we’ll be home in no time.”
That’s when it had really gotten serious.
3
Finn
Sam had seemed to understand what he meant without him needing to explain it to her. She’d leaned against the bus stop bench as the sky grew lighter, staring up at the stars, and had told him that she was making a wish. He did too. Even now he remembered wishing that they’d be together forever, because he was positive that there was no other way to be. But instead of telling her that, he’d wound up spilling his dreams to her. Telling her about how he needed to make money so that he could take care of his mom, how shattered he was since his dad had died, how he was crap at school, but everyone said he’d make bank if he kept skiing. And since skiing seemed to be the only thing he was good at, it was clearly the right road for him to take. She’d held his hand and then held him as he talked, her arms warm around his body, her head on his chest as if it was meant to always be there. He remembered thinking how real and solid his love felt, and at the same time thinking that they were kids and too young to feel this way. After all, seventeen was tooyoung to know about love, wasn’t it?
Then he remembered her saying it so softly that it had felt like a dream.
“I like you, but I can’t have you.” Her voice had been so small. Her blush made her look even more beautiful.
“Sam …” He’d hesitated. Then the words had come out before he could’ve stopped them. “You can have me—but only for tonight.”
“What?” She’d shivered as he’d cupped her chin in his hand.
“We have tonight—let’s make it count. Tonight is ours.”
“Tonightisours.” She’d echoed his words. “Tomorrow, we go back to normal.”
