Stick Your Landing (All In #3)

9. Zach

9

Zach

I jerk awake when the doorbell rings and lift to a sitting position with one sharp movement.

“Who's that?” Finley groans beside me. Her head lays perpendicular to where mine had been. She clutches her book in one hand, having drifted to sleep midsentence. She fumbles around the couch, searching for her phone. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” I say, about to go to the front door when it clicks open.

Finley springs to a sitting position, her gaze locking with mine.

“Hello?” Kennedy’s voice echoes through the quiet space. “Anyone home?”

“We’re in here,” I answer.

In the doorway, Kennedy halts at the sight of us on the couch and raises one dark eyebrow. Her arms cross over her chest, a stance I recognize from our time as roommates—when I accidentally left a spatula on a hot pan, burning the plastic and releasing rank fumes in our apartment. Or when I tossed a half-full can of soda into the recycling bin, which spilled everywhere—including over her pants—when she emptied it into the dumpster.

Her eyes narrow on Finley finger-combing her hair into submission. “Whatcha up to?”

I’m well-accustomed to this tone, but it usually comes from Gemma. She likes to insinuate scenarios that don’t exist, speaking words to the universe to make them happen. Kennedy’s suspicious gaze flicks to me in a scary-good imitation of Gem.

I’m deeply invested in manifesting one of their scenarios into being.

Earlier, when I walked in from my session with a team physical therapist, my rapidly beating heart settled after I spotted Finley on the couch. It quickly shifted into high gear again when she flashed the smile that always steals my breath.

She’s so fucking pretty, it hurts to stare too long at her. Hurts in a way I like. I can’t act on this crush; I also can’t help but nurse it.

“Finley was reading to me, and we fell asleep.”

Kennedy tilts her head. “I didn’t know you like reading, Briggsy.”

Because I prefer audio, so I don’t have to fight my brain .

She strides into the room, beelining to Finley, and plucks the book from her hand. Her eyes devour the description on the back cover.

There’s nothing wrong with romance novels, even the ones with smutty covers. My mom’s a librarian with an entire bookcase of love stories. She passed her love of romance to my sister, so every family gathering includes an in-depth breakdown of their latest reads—book boyfriends and tropes included.

“You read him this ?” Kennedy asks, fanning the pages as she waves the book in the air.

“I like it,” I say. It’s not a lie. I’d enjoy listening to Finley read the side effects off a pill bottle.

Finley’s head tips back, laughing. “So much you fell asleep.”

“So did you,” I retort, then sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

Those words stun both Kennedy and Finley into silence. I don’t want to worry them—there’s nothing to worry about, at least not yet. There’s more than one path to recovery from a concussion, so the doctor can’t say when my symptoms will subside or whether I’m healing as expected.

“How did the doctor’s appointment go?” Kennedy asks.

At the same time, Finley says, “We can leave if you need rest.”

Once Finley processes Kennedy’s words, she adds, “Wait—what doctor’s appointment?”

I stand up and shrug. “A check-in with the team doctor, who says I’m fine. I just want to play, and they can’t tell me when I’ll be ready. Two to six weeks is a long-ass range.”

“You should take all the time you need.” Kennedy might like watching Volk slam guys into the boards and beat them bloody, but she treats me like a bubble boy, a child needing protection. When we roomed together, she doted on me after games. I liked the attention, liked knowing someone cared about my well-being, but sometimes I question my capability. “The team’s off to a good start.”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t know? Didn’t Finley tell you?” She’s fishing for information, and I’m too tired to fend her off.

“I never asked.” I’ve also purposefully not called any of the guys. I don’t want them to worry, and it’d hurt too much to hear about every little detail I’ve missed.

Kennedy snorts. “Too busy reading smut, huh?”

Finley crosses her arms. “There’s nothing wrong with smut.”

Kennedy flips the book over, her gaze tracing the description on the back cover again. “Trust me, I know . Just didn’t realize this little firestarter did.”

“Little firestarter?” Finley looks to me to explain.

I shake my head, hating that she’s about to hear about how I am an idiot when I’m trying so desperately to look good to her. “It was one time—”

“One time? That’s your defense, Briggsy?”

I usually don’t mind Kennedy’s teasing, but tonight, it’s forcing an embarrassed flush into my cheeks.

“And you wonder why I’m staying here,” I say.

Under her breath, Kennedy mutters something that sounds suspiciously like Sure, that’s the reason . I hope Finley didn’t hear her.

Although maybe I should embarrass myself thoroughly in front of her. She should see me as I am before I get attached. My plan to show Finley how to have fun is going down as one of the worst ideas. If she sees it through with me, I’m the one at risk of getting hurt.

She’s beautiful and smart. Athletic, accomplished. And that’s only her surface. More time spent with Finley will lead to more incredible discoveries about her. While she’ll learn there’s not much more to me than a high hockey IQ.

Kennedy tugs me to her side and musses my hair. “Aw, Briggsy, you know I’m kidding. You’re the best platonic roommate I’ve ever had.”

I look down at her. “Out of how many?”

“Well, there’s—”

I interrupt Kennedy when I spot Finley leaving. “Where’re you off to?”

Finley freezes like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh… um. I have homework to catch up on. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Afternoon naps are the best, huh?” I ask.

Her lips tip into a half smile. “They have some appeal.”

I smile back, suddenly at a loss for words. How does she keep doing this to me?

Finley points over her shoulder, her golden blond hair swaying with the movement. “I should get to it.”

“Right, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs. “Good to see you, Kennedy.”

Kennedy’s biting her lip, holding in a smile. “You too, Finley.” She waits until the sound of Finley’s feet is gone before smacking me in the arm. “Dude.” She extends the word for an absurdly long time. “You need to knock it off before Matt kicks your ass.”

I head to the kitchen, putting space between us and giving me time to shake off her unsettling words. I keep my back to Kennedy as I snag a soda from the fridge. I know I can’t say these words with a straight face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.”

I spin around, flicking the tab of the can open. “We’re friends . Matt can’t tell us not to be friends.”

Kennedy lifts her hands in surrender. “If you say so.”

If I had any say-so, Finley Harris and I would not be friends. I would’ve taken the seat beside her and burrowed her into my side. Leaned my head on her shoulder as she read to me, and when it got to one of the sexy parts, my hand would’ve found its way to the waistband of her pants.

I’d do anything she asked me to do.

But no one needs to worry about a romantic relationship between Finley and me. She chose to leave after giving me the hottest sexual experience of my life. That memory is all I’ll ever have of her, and I’m making peace with it.

Friendship with Finley needs to be enough.