Something occurred to him, and his heart sank. “You’re not asking me if I’ll call Paris—”
“Ew.” Holly wrinkled her nose. “No. Gross.”
Finn unclenched. Good. He and Paris hadn’t been good for each other romanticallyorprofessionally. They were cordial now, but he didn’t want to work with her, and wouldn’t even if she hadn’t broken his heart. Could you break someone’s heart if it was already in pieces from a potentially career-ending injury?
He didn’t blame her for moving on and getting a new skating partner with Finn’s professional future up in the air. At least not anymore.
It sucked that she’d fallen in love with that guy, though. “Okay, so…?”
“So I’m asking if you’ll do it.”
Blink. Nope. He didn’t follow. “If I’ll do what?”
She smacked his arm. “If you’ll partner this guy!”
Oh.
He raised his eyebrows. “You think some random macho hockey player—”
“A random macho hockey player that signed up to be onDance Your Ice Off,” Holly corrected.
“—is going to be cool dancing in a competition with another guy?”
Holly smiled brightly. “Well, considering the charity he picked was the LGBT Youth Line, I think odds are pretty good.”
Finn closed his mouth around his objection. That was interesting. “What about the choreography?” he asked. “I’m not exactly going to be able to do thatandthe competition. I won’t have time. Plus I’d definitely be putting more work into my team’s program.”
With a flap of her hand, Holly dismissed this. “Finding another choreographer will be a lot easier than finding another capable skater who knows the ropes and doesn’t suck on camera.”
He read between the lines. “Meaning you already lined up someone?”
She widened her eyes in faux innocence. “I’m very good at my job. By which I mean Stef said she’d switch places.”
Finn tapped his fingers on the table. “We’re going to be at a disadvantage.” The show’s winners were chosen by viewer vote. With two men skating, they’d be limited in terms of choreography and flashiness. Female hockey players weren’t exactly featherweights, but Finn worked out; he could still do simple lifts and holds and spins on partners who were larger than the average female skater. But a former NHL player who weighed upwards of two hundred pounds? Probably not.
“But you’ll have the novelty factor. And I bet some people will watch and vote for youbecauseyou’re a same-sex pair.”
The novelty factor wasn’t just fun for audiences, Finn thought. It could be fun for him too. It would totally change his approach to choreography. They could do something more athletic than artistic, maybe, play into that side of things….
“Fiiiiiiinn,” she pleaded.
He rolled his eyes. “You already know I’m going to do it.”
She whooped. “Yes!”
“If,” he went on, “you talk to this guy and get him to sign off on having a male partner. No surprising him with it the first day of filming. Wanting to support a gay cause is not the same as being cool dancing with another guy on TV.”
“I mean, duh,” Holly said. “I’m not an asshole. I wouldn’t sign you up for weeks of torment with a homophobe.”
“I think you’re optimistic about how long we’re going to last on the show.” Chances were they’d be voted off within the first few rounds. Finn still danced, but he didn’t compete. He was rusty.
“You don’t even know who you’re paired with yet and you’re already giving up? Where’s that winning spirit?”
“In the bucket under the sink with the leftovers from the last three months’ dinners.”
“Ugh.” She recoiled. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
“Come on,” Finn said as he stood up. “You can go dump that shit in the compost while I put the sink back together, and then you can tell me about my mystery ice-dance partner.”
