“That’s not much of a recommendation for Finn then, is it?” I asked glumly.
“No, but his desperation to find you kind of is.”
I spent the rest of the day holed up in my room working on a project for my quantum mechanics class. Usually, the calculations necessary to work through the problem absorbed me, but every time I came close to a solution, Finn’s half-grin would flit through my head, or the bashful way he’d kicked his heel against his toe when he talked of being clueless about women or the hope in his eyes when he suggested I sit on his lap to stay warm, and I lost my train of thought. The man was effortlessly sexy in a shy way that drew me to him like the gravitational pull of a black hole.
As thoughts of him continued to interrupt my work, I snapped off the tip of my pencil against my paper, tearing a hole in the page that forced me to rewrite it in the neat standard my professor expected.
I growled at myself for my lack of focus.
Of course, that lack of focus might have had something to do with the fact I was wearing Finn’s hoodie. Only after Axel and Drake dropped me off in front of Hanover last night did I clue in that I was still wearing it. Turtling down inside it now, I reveled in the scent of his woodsy cologne andhim. It was all I could do to stop myself from sucking in the smell of him on the fabric when he dropped it over my head before we headed out to the porch. Giving myself away like that would have been a colossal disaster, especially with the way my evening with him had ended.
Still, I loved how big his hoodie was, how it covered me from my shoulders almost down to my knees. The fleecy inside was soft and snuggly against my skin. I had no idea how it felt to be held in Finn’s arms, but in the moment, the next best thing was being wrapped in his clothes.
What was wrong withme?
He had a history with my archnemesis, one that appeared to be friendly at least, more than friends at worst.
The thought soured the coffee in my stomach.
Yet I continued to wear his hoodie right up until it was time to meet Jamaica for dinner before our weekly RA meeting with the dorm supervisor. When I returned to my room late in the evening, I glared at the piece of clothing draped over my desk chair. Yet it seemed I had no willpower when I caught a faint whiff of Finn’s woodsy cologne. Slipping the offending item of clothing over my head, I reveled in its softness and the way it made me feel protected somehow.
Gathering my books, I flopped onto my bed to study...
... And awoke curled up in a little ball inside Finn McCabe’s clothes when my alarm went off the next morning.
“Seriously, Chess?” I growled as I stared down at myself. “Seriously?”
I tugged the hoodie over my head and tossed it over the back of my desk chair, slipped on my bathrobe, grabbed my toiletries bag and towel, and headed to the shower. As I let the hot water sluice over my body, I chastised myself for my lack of self-control, my lack of focus. What was it about that one man that had me behaving like a lovestruck adolescent? Never had I worn a guy’s clothes even when I was dating someone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of my attachment to that hoodie. It went beyond explanation.
“You okay, Chessly?” Hazel, a freshman on my floor, asked when I stepped out of the shower.
“Of course,” I said, but the growl in my response sort of echoed in the tiled space of the community bathroom. No wonder she backed up. Toning it down, I added, “I’m just talking to myself. Don’t mind me.”
All the way back to my room I was shaking my head at my own ridiculousness. Somehow Finn McCabe had slipped under my skin. The question was, what was I going to do about it?
By the time I’d finished classes for the day, I had a plan. I’d bag up Finn’s hoodie and give it to Jamaica to return to him the next time she went over to study with Callahan. But when I ran the idea past her when I met Saylor and her for coffee in the Union before Jamaica’s shift at the Sweet Shop, she laughed.
“I heard all about how panicked Finn was after he got rid of Tory and her posse and came looking for you, only to discover you’d left the party.” She blew over her coffee and sipped, her eyes sparkling as she traded glances with Saylor. “Whatever happened between you two that night, you’re not hiding from it behind me. Especially not after all the grief you’ve given me about Callahan.”
“Jamaica.” I injected sternness into my tone. “For a guy who’s always laser-focused on executing his assignment during any given play on the field, Finn is woefully indecisive.”
My friends traded smirks, and Jamaica said, “That’s specific.”
“The other night at the party he had the choice between Tory and me. He didn’t decide, which is a kind of a decision anyway. I left because I happened to catch Axel and Drake on their way out, and they said they’d give me a ride. I forgot I was still wearing Finn’s hoodie until Drake pointed it out as I stepped out of Axel’s car at the dorm.” I blew out a breath. “It was a silly oversight—one that you can help me fix.” I shot her puppy-dog eyes over the rim of my cup. “It’s not a huge ask when you’re over at their house all the time.”
Resting her elbow on the table and planting her chin in her upturned palm, Jamaica shot Saylor an incredulous look. “Can you imagine the disappointment on Finn’s face if I hand him his hoodie?”
Mimicking Jamaica’s stance, Saylor shot back, “Poor guy. The wild-eyed way he came steaming into the kitchen looking for Chess had everyone feeling sorry for him.” She shifted her gaze to me. “Now we’re all on Team Finn.” Sitting back against her chair, she grinned. “You, and only you, can return the clothes you pilfered from the guy.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’s made the right decision by now.”
Chapter Eight
Finn
One day intofinals week and I was already getting my ass kicked. Not only did I have exams in every class—exams I had to take early since we’d missed home-field advantage with our midseason loss to the Lumberjacks—but also Coach dropped a new playbook on us during film yesterday. As if I needed another thing to study with molecular biology eating my lunch.
A sigh gusted out of me as I sat on the couch and stared at the game controllers resting on the coffee table. They reminded me of theCODrematch I wanted with Enriquè Simms. The guy was too damn cocky, even if he was the biggest asset on the basketball team this season. Didn’t look like the rematch would happen until after we returned from Christmas break, what with us traveling to North Dakota for Saturday’s semifinal and the basketball team playing a tournament in California over break.
Throwing myself against the cushions, I stared at the ceiling and admitted to myself what was truly bugging me. I hadn’t seen, heard from, or heard about Chessly Clarke since that fiasco with Tory Miller following our last house party. Everything had been going well. I even had the idea she might let me warm her up on my lap if we stayed on the porch for a few minutes longer. Then Tory showed up and Chessly disappeared like a phantom in a puff of sweet-smelling smoke.
