“Me? No. Well. Maybe?” He wrinkled his nose and thought about the physics. “Probably not. I’m too tall, and my partner would have to be pretty strong to catch me. Our centres of gravity would be too high.”
“But if you’re dancing with a woman—or a pocket-size twink I guess—”
Finn caught a laugh in the back of his throat.
“—you couldcatchthem on your face?” He was leaning forward now, earnest, dark eyes wide. Apparently fascinated, all of a sudden, by the wonder of ice dancing.
“I mean, my shoulders would do most of the lifting.”
“Oh right, your shoulders, of course.” Robbie nodded like a dork, communicatingI’ll pretend I know what you’re talkingabout to humor you, but I want you to know I think you’re ridiculous.
No matter how long he’d held the role, clearly Robbie’s sense of humor was 100 percent dad.
“Come on, let’s go take a quick tour of the place. We’ve got time before you need to meet official people and get in front of cameras.”
Finn brought Robbie through the studio, pointing out various areas of interest—green rooms, change rooms, dance studios, backstage sets, and the ice.
They’d just arrived at the filming dance studio—where couples rehearsed routines on land—when they ran into the competition.
“Finn!” Sophia Simpson lit up to see him and moved in for a hug.
Laughing, Finn lifted her off the ground and said warmly, “Sophia! How are you? Good break?”
Sophia had joined the show two seasons ago after she retired from competition, and Finn was delighted to get to know her better. They’d known each other for years, meeting at competitions until Finn stopped, but it wasn’t untilDance Your Ice Offthat Finn learned how much he liked her.
She stepped back and Finn noted the large hockey-player-looking man behind her wearing an unhappy scowl. Looked like she lucked out this year with a meathead who was threatened by dancing men—there was always one who was weird about it, either because of the physicality Finn and his male coworkers tended to enjoy with the female skaters, or because the male skaters’ sheer existence threatened their masculinity. Finn wasn’t sure which brand of douchebag this guy was yet.
“It was good. Spent time with family. You?”
“Yeah, same. Lots of time with Imogen.”
“Good! But what’s this I hear about you joining us on the other side of the camera this season?”
“Oh, you know, finally put my plan into action to sabotage Stef and steal her skating partner. Robbie here was too cute to resist.” Finn waved between them for the introduction.
Sophia laughed and introduced herself. Meathead did not, though Finn guessed they might know each other already.
“I should have known it was a plot,” Robbie gasped dramatically. “I’m a snack after all.”
“Yes,” Finn deadpanned. “Everyone wants a bite.”
“You better believe it.” Robbie winked at Sophia. “Sophia knows, right?”
“Oh, yeah, you look very tasty.” She kept a straight face, probably from years of on-ice acting, but was definitely holding in a laugh. Behind her, the meathead was now a deep magenta. Maybe his issue was less jealousy or insecurity and more old-fashioned homophobia. Yay.
“As you can see,” Finn said with a lack of sincerity, “I clearly have the best partner. You must be green with envy.”
Sophia laughed again, clearly enamored of their double act. Finn couldn’t blame her—he was also charmed by Robbie’s affable manner and willingness to be silly.
Meathead definitely was not similarly charmed.
“Well, maybe, but Chad and I will do our best to give you a run for your money. Right?” Sophia smiled at Chad the meathead, trying to bring him in on the joke, but Finn detected a slight uncertainty to her smile, like she hoped for but wasn’t certain of his good humor.
“Don’t be so modest, Sophia, you’re the best on the show,” Chad smarmed, “and I know my way around a rink.”
Robbie coughed, cleared his throat, and apologized. “Frog in my throat.”
“Robbie.”
