Stef coughed into her napkin.
“When you put it like that, it sounds bad.” Finn pouted.
“Should I put it another way?”
“That I clearly love the song because it was part of my childhood and I want to share that joy with you?”
Stef had another coughing fit.
“Uh-huh.” Robbie took a bite.
Finn huffed. “Also, the tempo is just right for swing, and it should work well to tell a story.” He stuck his tongue out.
Robbie held up his hands. “I’ll take your word for all that, since I don’t know anything about… anything.” A lie—Robbie loved drama as much as any other queer—but one he’d keep in his pocket for later.
“You said it,” Finn chirped.
“You two are better entertainment than TV, which is a good thing since you’ll be on it soon. Eat up and we’ll start choreographing.” She cocked her head at Finn. “You going to backseat choreograph?”
“I mean, no more than you ever did.”
Stef hummed skeptically, but left it, and they finished their lunch without further shop talk.
Chapter Four
Locker Room Etiquette for Dummies
“Holly. Wehave made a horrible mistake.”
At Finn’s dramatic entrance, Holly looked up from her laptop, which sat pride of place on her fancy sit-stand desk.
Finn released his grip on the doorframe he’d been hanging off of, stepped into the room, and shut the door. “A no-good, horrible, very bad mistake. Huge. Catastrophic.”
“Right.” Holly sat back, coffee now in hand, and eyed Finn overtop of her mug. Finn had given her that mug, so he probably couldn’t be too insulted by it. But he didn’t think it was a coincidence that she’d armed herself with it and held it so that Finn could so easily read the words etched into the side: I cannot be held responsible for what my face does while you’re talking.
Rude.
“Rude.”
“Finn. What horrible mistake have we made?”
“Robbie, Holly.”
“Right. Okay, can you maybe expand on why it was a mistake to cast the perfectly nice, funny, charming, talented athlete for the reality TV show?”
Dropping his face to her desk, Finn made a noise like—well, he wasn’t sure what it was like. Honestly, he hadn’t known he could make a noise like that.
“Stop imitating a dying manatee and use your words.”
“Thanks, Holls.” He lifted his head and stared at her for a long beat, then let out a gusty sigh because she didn’t say he had to cut all the drama, just the sea-mammal noises. “So we’re working with Stef on the routine, right? And thanks to my total genius and absolute stupidity, we’re working up a routine based on that bit from10 Things—”
“Wait—thebit? The stuff of Finn Graham Romantic Dreams bit? The bit that made you realize you’re bisexual bit?”
Finn flailed. “Yes! That bit! So we’re working on it, and Robbie is just—he’s being all—” Finn wasn’t sure how to say this part. He’d convinced himself he coulddeal with his attraction, but he had vastly overestimated his own willpower.How did one describe the feeling of being mid-job when suddenly looking at your new coworker and realizing that he was not only conventionally attractive but that he had a lot in common with your first male crush and also that he’d have to touch you a lot over the next few weeks, for the aforementioned job, and you were maybe alittlemore into the whole playing the “girl” role in dancing and being the one led rather than doing the leading than you ever considered?
Ugh, it all would’ve been fine if Robbie were just another boring hockey bro.
Apparently you describe it just like that. Finn needed to work on the word-vomit thing.
