Stick Your Landing (All In #3)

24. Finley

24

Finley

My gaze locks on Zach as soon as he sprints onto the ice, and that’s where it stays.

He effortlessly floats across the rink with the puck, like he was made to play this game. Growing up, I resented hockey that consumed so much space in the Harris family. Watching Zach zip around the ice with incredible speed, weaving in and out of players, checking them into the boards, sacrificing his body to block shots, gives me a new appreciation for the game.

I’m also falling hard for number ten, not because he’s skilled and popular or because seeing him in his element is fucking hot—though all of those are true. I like his soul, the lens through which he sees the world, how he brings out the best in me, the childlike wonder I thought I’d lost.

“Having fun?” Deandra asks from two seats down. The empty two seats between us belong to Gemma and Kennedy, who took off for the restroom as soon as the buzzer signaled the end of the first period.

I swallow hard, trying to school my expression into blandness. “Yeah, it’s been years since I’ve caught a game.”

Deandra takes a swig from a plastic bottle of diet soda. “I was surprised when Gem said you’d be here. We’re six weeks into the season, and this is the first game you’ve been to.”

After family skate, I expected an interrogation about my relationship with Zach—just not from Deandra Collins. She’s been to the house for dinner a couple of times, but we don’t know each other well. Not well enough for me to reveal my feelings for Zach.

And yet, she’s given me the perfect opening to share what I’m too scared to tell anyone in my life besides Kennedy.

“I want to support Zach. He’s had a tough time, as you know.”

“You’re here for Zach?” Deandra’s expression is neutral, but the lack of curiosity in her tone makes me suspect this revelation doesn’t come as a surprise to her.

I look toward the ice, where four people wrapped in large plastic bubbles race to win concert tickets.

“Yeah. We’ve become friends, living in the same place and all.”

“Friends?” she repeats, arching an eyebrow.

I want to talk about my feelings for Zach all the time, the way he holds my heart in a vice. I’d love for someone to offer advice because this is all new to me. I used to categorize boys as a distraction from my goals, but Zach has improved my life from the moment he entered it. The problem is the secret I keep from him and the one we keep from the rest of the world, particularly my brother.

“He’s hard not to like,” I say finally.

She chuckles. “Yeah, you took a shine to him right away.”

“What do you mean?”

Deandra opens her mouth to reply, but the arena bursts into cheers as the Wolves charge out of the locker room to warm up before the second period. My breath catches when Zach’s gaze scans the crowd briefly before landing on me, and he grins in the self-consciously cute way of his. I give him a quick wave, and Zach’s face becomes impossibly brighter.

“Well… hypothetically, if someone headed back to their room during Matt and Gem’s wedding because a drunk hockey player spilled wine down the front of their dress, they might have caught quite an eyeful.”

“Wait.” My head snaps in her direction like whiplash. “You saw me and Zach that night?”

She flashes a devious grin, her lips blood red as always. “You wouldn’t believe the secrets I know, Finley.”

Gemma and Kennedy appear at the end of the row, carrying drinks and snacks, and Deandra and I fall silent. She winks at me, then rises to give them space to return to their seats.

The rest of the game passes in a blink. The Palmer City Wolves pull out an easy victory, defeating their opponent by two goals. Zach got an assist and made several good defensive plays—a solid showing for his first game back. More importantly to me, Zach grinned as he left the ice, happy to be playing the game he loves.

My phone buzzes soon after the game ends. I can’t help the smile stretching across my face, knowing I’m his first thought.

Zach

I want to see you

“Finley, you ready?” Gemma stands in front of Deandra and Kennedy, their gazes all on me.

I jump out of my seat. “Oh yeah, sorry.”

I start typing a quick response to Zach, but when Gemma tries to catch a glimpse of my phone, I slip it into my back pocket.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Gemma says in a lilting tone. “You meet someone?”

I nearly blurt a denial, but my face already gave me away. “Maybe. It’s new.”

The lie turns my stomach, but she’s left me no choice. It’s a risk to reveal this to her because she might run to my brother, who will tell my parents, who will schedule a mandatory family therapy session with Dr. Warren.

But I’m also tired of hiding myself to make other people’s lives easier.

Gemma squeals. “Oh, Finley, I’m so excited for you. Tell me everything .”

“There’s nothing to tell yet.”

“Let the girl breathe!” Kennedy jumps in before Gemma can fire off questions. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Gemma points at me. “I want to meet him.”

“I’m sure you’ll like him.” Deandra gives me a knowing smirk I’m glad Gemma can’t see. When Gemma turns toward her, I playfully run a finger across my throat and glare. “Can we go? The guys are waiting for us.”

“Waiting for us?” I repeat.

Gemma claps her hands. “We’re going out!”

“I think I’m going to head home,” I say, pointing vaguely over my shoulder

Gemma ignores me. “We’ve got a babysitter until midnight, which gives us”— she glances at her watch—“at least an hour to have a drink and sing a song.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Karaoke,” Kennedy clarifies, wrapping an arm around my bicep and pulling me to the aisle. In my ear, she whispers, “Briggsy’s idea.”

Out of view of Gemma’s prying eyes, I text Zach back.

Finley Looks like I’m coming to you

Karaoke is in full swing when we enter the bar, a terrible rendition of “I Will Survive” in progress. Zach added karaoke twice to his Make Finley Happy list, so I'm not surprised he suggested this bar tonight.

The boring beige color of the outside building brings to mind the phrase, Business in the front, party in the back, because there’s nothing understated about the indoor decor of The Final Song. Shimmering streamers line the walls, refracting dim blue lights to illuminate the bar, while rainbow disco lights flash across every surface.

Kennedy’s hands land on my shoulders. “Doesn’t this place scream Zach Briggs to you?”

It’s strange for Gemma’s best friends to know about my relationship with Zach, but Gemma hasn’t said a word. I’d chalk it up to her respecting my boundaries, but after all the matchmaking stories she’s told over the years, I know better. Between focusing on her daughter and opening a new location of her bakery, she’s had blinders on.

When I don’t reply, Kennedy tugs me deeper into the bar until we settle in a large corner booth.

“Anyone want a shot?” Gemma avoids my gaze, knowing I can’t have alcohol with my meds.

“I’m down,” Kennedy says, sliding out of the booth. “I’ve got a DD who can carry me upstairs later.”

Deandra shakes her head. “I’ve got a meeting in the morning.”

“My dad has made you so focused,” Kennedy teases before following Gemma to the bar.

“What does she mean by that?” I ask.

Deandra looks up from her phone. “Cale—Kennedy’s father—has a potential business deal in the works, so I’ve been busier than usual. I can’t say more than that.”

“But you work for the Wolves?”

“For now,” she replies, one side of her lips tilting in a coy smile.

A burst of noise pulls our attention to the bar, where a half dozen Palmer City Wolves players approach Kennedy and Gemma. Alexei hauls Kennedy off her feet, and she wraps her legs around his waist, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Gemma hands out shots to Zach, Jennings, and a couple guys I don’t know before motioning in our direction. Matt’s eyes go wide when they land on me.

“Uh-oh,” Deandra says, though the words are devoid of any real worry. I can’t see this woman cowering to anything, especially not a man. I wish I had the same impenetrable confidence.

Matt takes five long strides to stand before us. “Finley—”

“I’m being good,” I cut him off and hold both hands up innocently. “No alcohol. Deandra’s my witness.”

Deandra blows out a breath. “Loosen the reins, Harris. She’s an adult with a smart head on her shoulders. This is a good test run for you. You don’t want to repress Elodie to the point of rebellion during her teenage years. Trust me.”

Matt shoves his hands in his pockets. “I was going to say I’m glad you could make the game, Finley.”

“You played well,” I manage to reply despite my shock. No lecture? No order to go home? Who is this guy? Because he’s not the brother I know. “It’s okay I’m here?”

“Of course.”

Matt narrows his eyes, as if he didn’t expect the question, and I’m not sure why he wouldn’t. He knows the rules imposed by our parents, all in the name of keeping me safe. He also agreed to let me live in his house and support my efforts to rebuild my life. Maybe seeing me doing well on my own is proving to him I can take care of myself.

“You want a soda or something?” he asks.

Zach appears behind Matt’s bulky frame, placing a glass on the table. “Ice tea, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, sliding it toward me. “Thank you.”

A tap on the microphone causes a burst of feedback before Gemma’s voice cuts through the air. “Matt Harris, get your cute butt up here. It’s our song.”

I expect some sappy song that encapsulates their perfect relationship, but instead, an old song about riding a train starts. It’s the same one that played when they entered their wedding reception for the first time as husband and wife.

“Excuse me,” Matt says with a goofy grin. “Finley, I beg you to keep this to yourself.”

“You mean not tell Charlie and Ryan?” I mime locking my mouth shut. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I do one better, opening my phone camera and capturing every cringy moment of Gemma and Matt singing and doing a choreographed dance. My brothers and I will lord this over Matt until the end of time.

Zach sits in the booth beside me. “Hey, High-flyer,” he says, then smacks a hand over his mouth.

Deandra smirks. “I know about you and your girlfriend, Briggsy, so you can stop trying to be covert. You’re really bad at it, by the way.”

I shrug. “She saw us at the hotel pool.”

Zach’s mouth falls open. “Like you saw saw us?”

“You were in the water,” she replies with an eye roll. “So you can unclutch your pearls. Not that it’d faze me if you weren’t. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.” Deandra scooches out of the booth. “I think I want a glass of red wine after all.”

Zach lets out a breath. “She scares the shit out of me.”

“I think she might be my hero,” I say, laughing.

“You wear our jersey better than anyone else.” A contented breath flows out of him when he finds my hand beneath the table. “I love that you were there tonight.”

“I’ve never enjoyed a hockey game so much before.”

“Glad I could keep your attention.”

How he’s looking at me causes me to forget my surroundings and become absorbed in those dark brown eyes.

I drop his hand, moving to run my fingers along his thigh. “I couldn’t watch anything else.”

Sawyer plunks himself down on the opposite side of the booth, jolting both of us back to reality. “So Zach says you’ve been teaching him life skills.”

“Well hello to you too, Jennings,” I reply. “Good game tonight.”

“Thanks.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and gives me a cheeky grin full of blinding white teeth. If someone asked me to find the embodiment of “prep school hot,” I’d present them with Sawyer “Princeton” Jennings. “Tell me about these life skills.”

I glance at Zach who flicks his wrist in Jennings’s direction, granting silent permission before taking a swig of beer.

“Well, we took a budget class earlier this week, so Zach now knows people pay for water.”

Jennings chokes on his beer. “I’m sorry, what? Say that again.”

“Okay, hold on,” Zach interjects holding up a hand. “I know people have to pay for water when it’s bottled, but you know when you go to a restaurant, water is free, right? I thought it was like that at home since it’s something we need to survive.”

Jennings dissolves in laughter, hitting the table with one hand as he doubles over.

“It’s not that funny, dude,” Zach says, bolting from the booth.

“Zach!” I call, but he moves so quickly, I lose sight of him in the crowd. “Shit, I didn’t think he’d get upset.”

Jennings’s laughter finally sputters to a stop. “He’s not. Briggsy doesn’t get upset.”

He does , I want to protest, but I hesitate a moment too long, and he takes our conversation in another direction. Besides, I’m not sure Zach would want me to say anything.

“Listen, Finley, about the party…”

“I’m sorry I ran off. I—”

“Have a thing for my best friend?” Jennings rubs the back of his neck. “It would’ve been nice to know before I made an ass of myself, but I understand why you didn’t tell me. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. I don’t want to be the one to break the news to our captain.”

I let out a loud sigh. “I wish you would. I don’t want to do it either.”

“I think you’re good for him,” Jennings says. “I’ve never seen Briggsy like this before, and we’ve gone out a lot. I’ve seen—”

“I don’t need to know,” I cut him off, unsure exactly where he’s going, but if it puts an image of anyone else with Zach in my mind, I don’t want it. “Thank you. He’s good for me too.”

“Oh, shit, not this fucking song again,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. I follow the direction of his stare, and my gaze lands on Zach seconds before he lets out the first line of “Let's Get It Started In Here” by the Black Eyed Peas. “He plays this every damn day in the locker room.”

On stage, Zach struts back and forth, acting out the lyrics, commanding the attention of the crowd singing with him. When he gets to the chorus, he jumps up and down, drawing a few hoots from Wolves players near the bar. He’s breathing hard into the microphone when the song comes to an end. The bar descends into applause and catcalls while Zach takes a dramatic bow.

My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so hard. “He’s unreal.”

“That’s your boy,” Jennings says. “You knew what you were getting into.”

“For this next song, I’m going to call some friends to the stage,” Zach announces like this is a concert and he’s the main act. He turns toward our table. “Don’t be shy. I’ve picked a classic.”

Jennings doesn’t hesitate to slide out of the booth. Given the lack of resistance, this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. “Finley Harris.” He dramatically points to Zach and the karaoke stage. “You’ve been summoned.”

I shake my head. “No one in this bar wants to hear me sing. Trust me. I’m terrible.”

Zach motions toward the stage with the hand not holding the microphone. “Don’t make me drag you up here.”

“Your sensei is calling you to the stage, Finley. Don’t let him down.”

I blow out a breath, inching out of the booth. “I’m going to regret this.”

Jennings locks his arm with mine; he doesn’t seem to trust I won’t run back to the safety of the table. “Probably, but you’ll make a very special boy happy.”

I shove him. “You’re the worst.” When we reach the stage, I say to Zach, “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

He hands microphones to Jennings and me. “You’re the one who agreed to learn to have fun.”

I roll my eyes. “You mean you don’t offer all the girls a chance to sing with you?”

“You’re the only one.”

“You must think I’m pretty special.”

All humor falls from his features. “There’s no one like you, Finley.”

I have ten seconds to bask in Zach’s compliment before a 90s hip-hop song, “This Is How We Do It,” plays. I start slowly, but it’s not long before I’m singing my heart out along with Jennings and Zach, who don’t look at the lyrics on the screen.

They also showboat to the crowd, trying to one-up each other over who performs better. The cheers for this second song eclipse Zach’s solo effort, but I know it’s not for me. Jennings and Zach bow dramatically, then hold their hands in my direction until I do a silly curtsy.

Gemma and Kennedy continue the standing ovation as we approach.

“You would tell me if this”—Gemma twirls her hand to indicate to the three of us—“is a Challengers situation, right?”

Kennedy throws her head back, laughing. “Oh my God, Gem.”

“What? It’s a valid question.” Gemma stumbles as she attempts to slide into the booth, and Matt catches her.

“All right,” he says. “Time for my wife to call it a night.”

Gemma playfully swats him. “I’m fine. It’s these stupid shoes.”

“Uh-huh,” Matt placates her. “We’ve got to relieve the babysitter anyway. Finley, you ready?”

A boulder of disappointment settles deep in my gut. I don’t want to leave Zach, but my mind goes blank when I try to think of an excuse that won’t raise suspicions. Especially not after that stupid comment from Gemma.

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Deandra says, winking at me when Matt turns to me.

“You want to stay?” he asks me.

It’s such a simple question, but for us, whose relationship has been mired by mistrust and resentment, it’s significant. I nod.

“All right. If you need anything, call me, okay?”

“I will,” I agree.

Matt gathers Gemma into his arms, and she curls into him, all fight leaving her body.

I wait until they disappear out the front door before saying, “Thank you, Deandra. Seriously.”

She snatches her wristlet off the table. “Don’t mention it. I’m heading out to rest up for tomorrow. Y’all good to get home?”

“I will be as soon as I find someone to come with me,” Jennings replies with a panty-dropping smirk. My sympathy to all the men in this bar who have to compete with him tonight.

“We’ll be fine,” I assure Deandra.

“Give me your phone,” she says, holding out a hand. She sends herself a text message. “Now you have my number. If you need anything, call.”

Zach leans into me, his head resting on my shoulder. I look around the room, but no one is watching us. Kennedy sits in Alexei’s lap, kissing him. A couple of the other Wolves players stand by the bar, entertaining a large group of presumable fans.

I let myself have this.

“What Deandra said earlier…” Zach starts, his voice low, half-muffled by my shoulder. “About you being my girlfriend?”

“She won’t say anything.”

“I’m not worried about that.” His head pops up, and his eyes lock with mine. “I want everyone to know. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s just… are you?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, my lips stretching into a teasing smile. “I’ve never been asked.”

“Come with me.” Zach straightens, tugging me out of the booth and guiding me to the exit, his hand on my lower back. I ask him where we’re going, but he can’t hear me over a group of guys on stage shouting “Mr. Brightside.” He fumbles for the keys in his pocket, unlocks his car, then hands them to me.

“You want to leave?”

He opens the passenger door. “I want to talk to you alone.”

My heartbeat pounds faster as I walk to the other side of the car and climb into the driver’s seat.

Zach faces me.

I bite my lip. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Zach says, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked you before, but I wasn’t sure what was going on between us. I was waiting for you to pull away, but you keep wanting to spend time with me. And I don’t want to share you with anyone. I don’t want to wonder anymore…” He takes a shallow breath. “Finley May Harris, will you be my girlfriend?”

“It’s about damn time,” I say, just like I did when Zach finally kissed me the first time. Now we meet in the middle, locking lips, my arms around his neck, his hands holding my waist steady, neither of us wanting to let the other go.