He grinned and strolled past her. ‘I’m calling dibs on the shower.’
‘Good,’ she called after him without turning, as an answering grin spread across her face and she reverted to their childhood banter. ‘You stink.’
And he did. But in all thegoodways.
His cologne had mixed with the sweat he’d built up running after a plethora of wildly wayward balls, and his scent had morphed into something deliciouslybase. More yo-ho-ho-anda-bottle-of-rum pirate than pina colada. She was glad he was washing it off because seriously… Fin, her geeky childhood friend, had no business smelling that good.
None whatsoever.
*
The source of Fin’s seriously amazing scent was not, in fact, cologne. Something Sweeney discovered when she stepped into the cubicle ten minutes after he had vacated. The air was still humid from his shower, the aroma of him clinging to the invisible globules of moisture hanging around in the confined space, and she shut her eyes to savour it for a beat.
When she opened them again, her gaze landed on the wire shower caddy and the very masculine bottle of body wash that hadn’t been there the last few nights. Fin must have forgotten to take it back to his bedroom after his shower.
Flicking the taps on and adjusting the temperature to a nice warm spray, curiosity got the better of her and she reached for it, noting the navy colour and the bold black and silver print proclaiming it to be Rum Punch. Lifting it to her nose, she popped the lid and inhaled, dragging the addictive fragrance deep into her lungs.
Yup. That was it. The scent she’d come to recognise asFin. It smelled slightly lighter in the bottle, though, clearly needing masculine pheromones to elevate—or maybelower—it to something much deeper and richer.
It was Fin that took the scent from heady to intoxicating.
Without giving it a second thought, Sweeney squeezed a dollop into her cupped hand and lathered it over her body, enjoying how readily it foamed and how easily her fingers slid over her naked body. When she found her brain wandering to how Fin had stood here fifteen minutes ago—also naked and slippery with body wash—she threw on the mental brakes.
Shedid notthink about Fin like that just because he’d become nerdy-hot and she was seeing him as amanfor the first time. They were old friends,playinglovers, and there were only two more sleeps until she flew away, after which it’d probably be another four years until she saw him again, so this line of thought was ludicrous.
Sheshouldbe thinking about what Fin had said in the car. About the lie their mothers had entangled them in and how they were going to navigate the situation. But that was even more bamboozling and Sweeney didn’t have the bandwidth to figure it out. Besides, they really only had two more days, two more training sessions to endure town speculation, and then she’d be gone and the risk of their mothers’ lie being exposed by either of them putting a foot wrong would be reduced to zero.
She’d never looked forward to a flight more.
A pang of guilt hit, thinking about poor Fin being the one left behind to suffer their fake engagement alone while she was swanning around Indonesia, but… better him than her.
*
If he noticed Sweeney had used his body wash as they sprawled on the couch in front of the television and tucked into dinner, Fin didn’t say. With his long legs stretched out, his feet up on the coffee table, he was the epitome of relaxed as he watched the evening news, alternating mouthfuls of cheesy pasta goodness with cold beer.
Sweeney, her legs also outstretched, feet up on the table, had her bowl balanced on the arm of the couch and was forking pasta out with one hand and scrolling through the picture haul she’d downloaded onto her laptop with the other. Mai had already messaged twice, eager to get something up on Instagram, so Sweeney was only peripherally aware of the chatter of newsreaders as she quickly assessed the contenders.
Fortunately, considering this was not her forte, there were quite a few relatively decent snaps that Sweeney felt okay about sending to Mai and that would probably work well on social media. With the image permission forms from the families signed, all Sweeney had to do was choose and send them over.
Her fingers paused on the trackpad as a picture of Fin signing appeared. She’d been so transfixed by him communicating with Winnie with such utter ease that she hadn’t thought to get a picture until the very end, managing to snap off this one before Fin and Tori had returned to the centre of the field.
And she was pleased she had. It wasn’t technically a great picture in a lot of ways and it certainly wouldn’t make the cut tonight, but it tugged at her nonetheless. She’d somehow managed to capture Winnie, clinging to her grandfather’s leg, peeking up at Fin shyly but clearly fascinated by this stranger who knew how to communicate with her, and Fin with his smiling face animated as his busy hands were captured mid-sign.
It had been the first time all session he’d looked happy. Comfortable, even. And he hadn’t beenthatsince before they’d walked into the birthday party on Saturday night to the news of his surprise betrothment.
Despite the technical imperfections that had seen Sweeney already trash about two hundred photographs, she knew she wouldn’t trash this one. Because, of all the ones she’d taken, this was the only one that truly told a story.
So maybe she didn’t suck at this so much after all.
Finishing her dinner, Sweeney did her second trawl through, shuffling about a dozen pictures into a folder on the home screen she labelledBanshees, before trashing the rest. She’d edit them later to make them pop a little more, but if she had an image bank of a few dozen by the time she left then Mai should have plenty of pics to continue her social media campaign.
As Sweeney decided which three images she’d send to Mai, Fin finished his pasta and picked up the remote, flicking around the channels. ‘Some moreLost?’
She nodded absently. ‘Sure.’ They’d been revisiting the drama series of their youth, which they’d watched unfailingly and talked about obsessively for the entirety of their high school years. Even when it got impossibly, ridiculously over-the-top, Sweeney and Fin had stayed doggedly loyal.
Rediscovering it again on streaming had been a fun way to pass what Fin had dubbed their home detention. They could have gone out, of course, but hiding in the house away from any potential public faux pas that would reveal them as big fat lying liars had definitely been the better part of valour! Between Marjorie’s low-key stalking and the Murphy family WhatsApp group all atwitter with Feeney fever,keeping things on the down low until she left and thus erasing any potential for contradiction made perfect sense.
So, Netflix andnochill it was.
