Finley flips her ponytail over her shoulder. “Then I guess I better leave.”
Her gaze catches mine, and our brief eye contact detonates a bomb in my belly. The room remains silent until Finley’s steps cease on the stairs.
“That’syour sister?” Jennings’s gaze lingers in the direction Finley went. My blood thrums faster beneath my skin as I imagine Sawyer with Finley. For the first time since I met him, I want to deck my friend.
“Watch it, Princeton.” Matt jabs a finger in the air toward him. “If you’re as smart as you want us all to think, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.” He pauses a moment before adding, “You too, Volk.”
It’s an obvious joke, but Volk gives him the finger. “Fuck off, Harry.”
Matt doesn’t threaten me. I try not to let it chafe, but I’m stung by this reminder I don’t have a legitimate shot with Finley. Heroverprotective brother finds the idea so absurd, he doesn’t think to warn me off.
Jennings shakes his head, silky blond hair reflecting sunlight from the window behind us. “No, that’s not…” His skin flushes darker than the red line, either from embarrassment over saying his thoughts out loud or because he’s worried about getting on our six-foot-four captain's bad side. “That’s not what I meant.”
It’s definitely what he meant. I shouldn’t resent him for noticing Finley’s beauty, but I do. So fucking much.
I’ve never had one bad thought about the guy. He’d help you move, pick you up from jail, and keep his mouth shut about a secret you told him. He’s the teammate you’d trust to date your little sister. He’s impossible not to like with his snow-bright smile, vibrant blue eyes, and the aw-shucks way he carries himself.
I don’t begrudge it when women approach him in a bar instead of me. But the thought he’s a better match for Finley and could charm her if he wanted?It makes me want to drop-kick him.
Jennings suddenly slams a hand down on the arm of the couch, his mouth parted in surprise. “I don’t know why I didn’t put it together before. She’sFinley Harris, the gymnast. My sister watches all the meets. Finley was her favorite. She wouldn’t stop winking after seeing Finley do it at the end of her routines.”
Finleywinking? It’s so ridiculous, I audibly snort. All heads turn my way.
“Be honest. Was it really your sister watching?”
They’re the only words I can think of to cover my reaction. The girl who tilts her head and quirks her brow, whose lips rarely rise in a grin. The hardworking gymnast who needs me to teach her how to have fun. Shewinkedwhen she competed?
Jennings chucks a pillow at the side of my head. “Shut up, dude. I’m serious.” He focuses on Matt, waiting for confirmation.
Matt’s biceps pulse with tension, his eyes glazing over, unfocused. Finley hasn’t shared why she’s hiding gymnastics from her family, but by the look on Matt’s face, it’s serious enough he wouldn't think he can trust me—the guy without a serious bone in his body—with it.
“Matt?” Jennings prompts.
“Yep, she was a gymnast. And now she’s a college student.” Matt’s hand clenches in a fist. “Princeton, you will not hit on my sister. She’s in no place to date.”
He salutes Matt, and there’s something sarcastic in the gesture. “Calm down, Cap. You got a beer?”
“Yeah.” Matt grits the word. “I’ll come with you.” He trails Jennings out of the room.
Volk clears his throat. “You need to watch yourself.”
The sentence feels menacing in the deep rumble of his accented voice.
“What?” I pretend not to know what he means.
Volk’s jaw ticks. “Knock it off, Briggs.” His use of my last name instead of my nickname highlights his seriousness. “With your newroommate.”
I force out a laugh. “Have you seen her? Or are you blind to anyone not named Kennedy?”
Volk scowls; he never likes Kennedy’s name to venture too near a dig, joke, or critique.
“There’s no way she’d be interested in me.”
Volk leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Why not? It’s not like you’re a shlub.”
I rub my fists into my cheeks and flutter my eyelashes. “Volk, are you saying you think I’mpretty?”
Volk punches my shoulder, and I jostle backward.
