“Don’t forget about the cameras,” Gemma says with a smile before leading the group outside.
I’m frozen to the spot. Zach’s fingers hook mine, and my breath hitches at the unexpected contact.
“You okay?” he asks.
I shrug one shoulder, reluctant to move my other arm in case it breaks the spell and Zach pulls away. But then, the realization of what we were almost caught doing hits me, and I step back.
Zach snags me by the wrist to keep me in place. “Finley?”
Our gazes lock, and my heart pounds harder with every extension of silence. My mind flashes to the weight of Zach’s legs pressed against me, the heat of his body as he crowded mine.
His gaze drops to my mouth and lingers. “Do you want to finish loading the dishwasher?”
Ican’twant this. I’m finding a balance between training, school, and work. My gymnastics improves every single day. All of it is too important to take my eye off my goals, to make room for anything else. I said I’d never date another hockey player. Ever. Not even if my childhood crush, Sidney Crosby, showed up on my doorstep, begging for a date.
And yet, I find myself wanting to surrender to him, to say yes.
“I should do some homework,” I say instead. “Big paper due next week.”
“Oh.” Zach’s face sheds every bit of levity, and I curse myself for being the one to do that to him. “Yeah. I get it.”
I paste on a smile. “Besides, I think you’ve got this. You don’t need me.”
“Right. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, although I have every intention of hiding in my room until I get my emotions under control.
14
Zach
The sound of moanspulls me from a restless sleep.
Sunshine blinds me when I open my eyes to search for the source of the noise. I worry it’s coming from my laptop, but my closed computer sits on the chair. It’s not coming from this room which means…
My head snaps to the wall I share with Finley. These are moans in real life, coming fromher.
The realization makes my cock harden painfully, turning morning wood I’d ignore into a situation I can’t help but acknowledge. Especially as the sound ratchets higher.
For all of a split second, I wonder if this is an invitation. She’s been around less the last few days, since ourmomentin the kitchen. I had been seconds from kissing her when Gemma and her friends walked in and Finley pulled away.
“That feels so, so good,” she moans.
My stomach cramps.Finley isn’t alone. She’s with some other fucking person while I lay here getting hard, listening to her soft, melodic moans.Fuck.
I hop out of bed, needing to put space between me and the dagger to my heart next door. She doesn’t owe me anything, but she could’ve gone totheirplace and not rub it in my face. Or maybe that’s the point—she knows how much I like her and wants to officially close the door.
I sigh deeply, scrubbing a hand over my face.
In the kitchen, I focus on making coffee and cooking scrambled eggs the way Finley taught me last week.
She strolls into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, slipping a sweatshirt over her tank top. “Smells delicious. My cooking lessons are paying off.”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter, flipping the eggs with a spatula.
“Need any help?”
“I’m good.” I could suffocate on the thick tension in the room, but Finley doesn’t notice. She scrolls through her phone, lying flat on the countertop. How can she be socasual? I clear my throat. “I don’t know if I made enough for your guest.”
