I drop my head. “Finley, I’m barely hanging on here. If you say anything else like that, I’m going to haul you to the locker room.”
Her eyes spark. “Promise?”
I mutter a curse under my breath.
“Okay, okay, I understand it’s not the time. But I… I need you to know I want you around. And you haven’t been since like a week ago… and I don’t know why.”
“Your brother’s home.”
“You have an apartment where we can be alone, which sounds like it might be something you want.”
I grip her hands tighter, pulling her closer to me. “You have no fucking idea how much I want that. But I don’t want to push you or have you think it’s all I want because it’s not. Everything is up to you, all right? My answer will always be yes to anything you ask. I’m happy with whatever we do—or don’t do—as long as you’re happy.”
Finley’s smile fades. “We only work if it’s good for both of us,” she says. With the way, her beaming smile returns, I can almost convince myself I misread her earlier expression. “Though your offer of total control is mighty tempting.”
It’s not surprising, given the little I know about her life. Choices have been taken away from her, but she’s fighting tomold her life into what she wants. I hope she creates a Zach Briggs-size space.
“It’s an open offer.” I grin, my cheeks hurting, the way they always do around this girl who makes me happier than I thought possible.
Finley’s head drops back as she lets out a groan. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Welcome to my world,” I say through a laugh. “I can settle for talking to you.”
“Settle? Is that right?” She laughs with me, poking my side.
“Sacrifices must be made,” I say with an exaggerated shrug.
“I’m about tosacrificeyou on this ice.”
I tilt my head. “Aw, Finley, a temper is so unbecoming.”
“Wait until we’re alone.” Her hands tighten around mine. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
“But it’s on?”
She snorts. “I mean, obviously,afterI kick your ass.”
I nod. “I’ll allow it.”
Finley aims for my side again, and I dodge out of the way. “You’re lucky I like you, Calder.”
Don’t I fucking know it.
21
Finley
“What was it likegrowing up with Cap?” Zach asks as we start another lap—our third? fourth?—at the slow and steady pace he’s set.
The reminder of my brother—somewhere on the ice, likely wondering when Zach and I became so close—is unwelcome. But it’s necessary to talk about him, because he’s a frustrating roadblock we’re speeding straight toward.
“Probably your wet dream—the Harris household was hockey central, twenty-four seven. For my brothers and the hoards of teammates who constantly hung around.” My dad left our basement unfinished so they would have a space to hang out that was fine to destroy. “It’s how I ended up in gymnastics. My parents needed me in an activity to keep me occupied multiple days a week while they carted my brothers around, helping them chase their professional hockey dreams. I think they were shocked when I took to it and had a dream of my own to chase.”
“They weren’t supportive?”
I shake my head. “Oh no, they were. Once I told them I wanted to go to the Olympics, they supported me as much as they did my brothers. It meant a lot of split time because my parents can’t be in four places at once.”
I understood their absence didn’t mean they didn’t love or support me, or that they didn’t want me to succeed. But sometimes, all I wanted was to have someone in the stands cheering for me, to know I wasn’t there competing alone.
