“Ouch!” He slipped a hand beneath the table to massage his owie. “What was that for? Telling the truth?” Laughter danced in his tone as I tugged the pizza toward me.
“I shouldn’t share any of this with you since you barely left me a wing.”
The server chuckled at our antics before asking if we needed a refill of our beers. I asked for one. Finn didn’t.
“Why didn’t you order another beer?” I asked when the server moved off.
“The roads are slick, and I’m driving.” The corner of his mouth quirked up as he tugged the pie back to the middle of the table.
Something in his tone told me what he truly meant, and it warmed me from the inside out. If someone had told me I’d end up with Finn McCabe after my usual coffee date with Jamaica today, I would have said they were nuts. Yet I’d spent most of the afternoon and early evening with the guy, and I had to admit to myself that he might not be what I thought he was on the night we met. Or, more correctly, what I thought he was when he dropped me off at the dorm that night.
I pinched off the cheese stretching from my slice to the rest of the pie, wrapping the excess around my finger then sucking it off. Across the table Finn’s jaw stopped mid-chew as he watched me enjoy the gooey mozzarella. It was only cheese, but with the way his eyes darkened, it could have been something else. The second that thought entered my head, I shut it down by shoving food into my mouth.
I bit off a massive bite of my slice and immediately regretted it. Extra cheese meant extra-hot, and I panted through parted lips over the searing bite.
“Serves you right for notblowingon it first.” Mischief danced in his eyes, telling me that his mind had definitely gone to the same place as mine.
For cripes’ sake.Why did my mind keep going to naked Finn?
If I weren’t careful, I’d give myself away and then I’d be just another football groupie, a jersey chaser. I loved the game, and I was a lifetime Wildcats fan, but I’d be damned if I’d ever stoop to chasing a football player. Even one who kept presenting himself as a genuinely nice guy. Even one as hot as Finn McCabe.
When the check came, I snagged it and pulled out some bills to cover my half. Finn pulled off his ball cap, ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair, mashed his hat back on his head, and spun it backward. A sheepish expression crossed his features as he cleared his throat.
“Um, I have an NIL with Stromboli’s.”
“I know. I’ve seen your ads on local TV.”
“Yeah, well, I also get a discount on food here.” He tugged the receipt from my fingers. “This is the actual price of our meal.” He pointed to the small print at the bottom.
I knitted my brows. “Then why list the price everyone else would pay?”
“To make sure the servers receive their correct tips. It’s, uh, something we all asked for.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed about being a decent person who didn’t want to stiff the wait staff.
I pushed my money toward him. “Well then, that covers my half of the tip too.”
“Chess.”
“What’s the deal, Finn? My friends and I always split the check.” I tilted my head. “You didn’t think I expected you to pay for me, did you?”
“I kinda wanted to.”
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “This is not a date. It’s two people who spent the afternoon studying together having something to eat afterward. That’s all.”
The wounded look that flitted across his face made me feel like I’d stolen his birthday cake. Before I could process it, he’d replaced it with a sunny smile.
“All right. That means I can plan a proper official date.”
“Um—”
“We’ve hung out together a couple of times. We’ve already made out once—which, for the record, was a glorious experience.” The wattage of his smile as the memory of that night was like a beacon in our booth. “Now we’ve studied together and had dinner together. The next step is an official date.”
The comical way he waggled his brows tugged a reluctant half-smile from me. “I’ll think about it.”
He pulled out his wallet and added some bills to mine, stood, and held out his hand to me. “You bet you will.”
Chapter Sixteen
Finn
