Finn (Breakaway Hockey #4)

Chapter Eleven

Sammie

I was doubtful at first, but I think being “just friends” with Finn may actually work. Of course, I haven’t seen him now for two weeks. Not since the night in the parking lot where we hashed things out.

Staying away from each other hasn’t been by design, though. The Thunder have been on a long road trip out west playing against teams in various states and provinces.

But they’re flying back to Atlanta today.

I know that because Finn called me last night from his hotel room in Vancouver. It was the first time we actually spoke since deciding to be just friends.

Prior to that call, we had been just texting every couple of days, generally about random stuff regarding work and hockey. Nothing heavy.

So to say I was surprised when my phone actually rang last night instead of dinging is an understatement.

I felt happy, though, that Finn was calling to talk instead of texting. It seemed more personal. And he was in a really good mood. I knew why. Not only had the Thunder won their game against the Canucks, but Finn scored a goal and racked up a nice assist.

He asked if I had seen the game, and I told him I’d caught a lot of it, which was true.

Then, like it had just dawned on him, he said, “Shit. I forgot you’re three hours ahead back there. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no,” I replied, laughing. “I actually just got home. I had a late shift at Boots. They had the game on. So I did see quite a bit of it, like I told you. But I missed your assist. Luckily, I caught your goal in the third. That one was a real beauty, by the way.”

I meant it, and I think Finn could tell.

Softly, he said, “Thanks, Sammie.” And then he told me, “Oh, hey, we fly back tomorrow. It’ll be good to come home.”

“Yeah, I bet. This trip’s been a long one.”

He sighed. “It has. But we have a couple of days before our next game, a chance to rest up.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ll actually be at that game.”

He got really excited. “You will?”

“Mmm-hmm. I’m going with Ellie.”

“That’s awesome,” he said. Then, after a beat, he asked quietly, “Would you, uh, want to do something afterward? Like, we could grab a late bite to eat?”

I hesitated, but then I thought about how, if I’m going to be his friend, this is the kind of thing we’ll be doing.

So, I said, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Great.”

We made arrangements for me to drive down to the arena with Ellie and meet up with him after the game. He told me there’s a lounge down the hall from the locker room where I can wait till he’s cleaned up. He’ll meet me there, and then drive us to dinner and take me home afterward.

Everything was set, and still is.

But now I’m panicking!

Not because this outing—I’m calling it that instead of a date—is happening.

And not because it’s too late to cancel, since game day is here.

No, the reason why I’m so hyped up is because Ellie will be at my townhouse to pick me up any minute, and I’m still not ready.

I’ve been having a hard time deciding what to wear. I’ve tried on four different outfits. Five if you count the one I have on right now.

Problem is, I want to look nice but not too dressy. I’m trying to avoid looking like I’m going out on a “date” with Finn.

That’s right, it’s an outing.

“And you know what?” I say to my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door. “This is perfect.”

Yeah, I’m going to stick with what I put on a few minutes ago—a black stretchy shirt with lace sleeves, dark jeans, and black ankle boots.

With that decided, I shrug on a short leather jacket, and I’m ready to go.

Just in time, too, as Ellie just pulled up outside and honked her horn.

With no further ado, I grab my phone, throw it in my purse, and run downstairs.

When I hop into her car, Ellie glances over at me. “Hmmm, you look nice,” she says, sounding suspect. “Are you sure you’re not going on a date later tonight?”

Oh, good God.

I told her earlier that I’m meeting a male friend down at the arena after the game to grab a late dinner. I didn’t mention who I’m going out with, but I was clear that it’s not a date.

“I’m sure,” I reply as I belt up. “It’s just dinner with a friend. What makes you think it would be anything else?”

Ellie shoots me a funny look before she puts the car in gear and drives out of my townhouse complex.

Shaking her head, she laughs and says, “Well, first of all, you look really nice. Your hair and makeup are on point, and your outfit screams sexy.”

“It does?” I say, looking down at myself with dismay.

She nods. “Yeah. At least I think so.”

Shit, I should have gone with the oversized Thunder jersey and baggy jeans.

But it’s too late now.

A minute or so passes without either of us saying anything, and I get the sense that she’s waiting for me to spill the tea.

Sure enough, tapping the steering wheel with her thumbs, she groans. “Okay, I can’t stand it any longer. Who are you meeting after the game? And why haven’t you told me already? If it’s not a date, what’s the big secret?”

She’s right. There really is no good reason to keep this from her. After all, Ellie is my friend.

So, I fess up.

In a rush of words, I say, “I haven’t said anything because I’m going to dinner with a player.”

She appears to be stunned but recovers quickly. “You are?” she asks. “Is he a Thunder player?”

I snort. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t hang out with the enemy.”

That makes her laugh.

“As for who it is,” I go on, “it’s Finn.”

“Finn? As in Finn Norath?”

I roll my eyes. “Are there any other Finns on the team?”

“No.” We come to a stop at a red light, and, peering over at me curiously, she says, “It’s just that I didn’t realize you two knew each other well enough to be going out to dinner.”

Ha, if she only knew how well we know each other—like in the biblical sense.

“Well, we do,” I say.

“And it’s definitely not a date?” she double-checks.

“Nope, not a date.”

“Hmmm…”

The light turns green, and we continue on our way to the arena.

I can see the wheels turning in Ellie’s head as she drives. I really need to give her more info, or she may figure out that more is going on here than meets the eye.

Clearing my throat, I tell her, “Okay, here’s the deal. Finn kind of saved me at Boots one night a couple of weeks ago. That’s when we got to know each other a little better.”

“Wow, no way. What happened?” she asks.

I fill her in on the details of the obnoxious Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum incident and how Finn scared them off. I also share that we stayed at Boots after closing for a short while.

I’m honest about everything, but I leave out that I went back to his house with him. Of course, I also don’t tell her that we had mind-blowing sex.

Thankfully, Ellie and I arrive at the arena, and she’s distracted with finding a parking spot.

We do, and once she cuts the engine, she turns to me and says, “Okay, so, I think this is fantastic, Sammie. Finn is such a great guy. He’s superhot, too, right?” Pausing, she raises a brow.

I know she’s waiting for my response, but I have to be careful here. I mean, I do think he’s superhot. Clearly, since that’s part of why I slept with him. But I can’t give that away.

I instead answer with a measured “Yeah, he is kind of good-looking.”

“Pfft,” she snorts. “That’s an understatement, and you know it.”

I just shrug.

But Ellie’s not done.

Excitement building, she says, “Maybe something will develop between you two. You know, you guys would make the cutest couple. Ohh, and if you were together, we could go out on double dates. Nils and Finn are such good friends, and you and I are too.” She lets out a little squeal. “Damn, Sammie, it’d be so perfect.”

I put my hand on her forearm to calm her down. “Ellie,” I say. “Finn is just going to be my friend, okay? I’m sorry, but I really have no time for love.”

She pshaws. “Stop it, Sammie. Just stop. You say that all the time. And you know what? You could easily make time. Look at me and Nils.”

I wish I could tell her everything, like how I don’t deserve the kind of happiness she’s found with Nils. But I can’t share the reason. She’d probably end up hating me for what I’ve done. Or maybe more so for what I should, or should not, have done, looking back at the circumstances of that fateful night.

Sighing, I simply divulge as much as I can. “Look, I know you want me to find someone. And I love that about you. But don’t worry. Someday I will”— that one is a little lie —“it’s not going to be Finn, though. Or anyone else right now. I’m just not in the right headspace for a relationship, okay?”

She nods and says, “I can accept that. And I’m sorry I pushed you. That was wrong of me. You’re right. You’ll know when it’s time.”

“Yeah, I will,” I agree, knowing all the while that “time” will never come for me.