The Hot Shot (Game On #4)

“I was trying to be helpful.”


“As I said then, keep your helpfulness away from my bras and panties.”

A brilliant grin lights his face. I’m happy to see it. This is the Finn I know, the one who doesn’t leave me confused and bleeding for him. “It was totally worth getting yelled at,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “Were you going to ask me something?”

He sobers a bit but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Come to California with me.”

“What? For your family holiday?” I squeak like a startled mouse.

“Yes.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Come on, it’ll be fun. My family will love you. And my mother is a great cook.”

I eye him with suspicion. “What aren’t you saying?”

The lobes of his ears pink. “Okay. While we’re there, I was thinking we could tell her that we’re together.”

I halt so fast, Finn walks a step for before noticing to stop.

“Oh, fuck no,” I say, shaking my head.

His brows raise as if he has no fucking idea why I’d object. The liar. “Come on, it isn’t that bad.”

“It’s worse. You want to lie.” My fingers curl into a fist. “To your family.”

“Yes, I do. Because she won’t stop, Chess. Not as long as she thinks I’m this poor, broken-hearted sap who needs a woman to mend him. It doesn’t matter what I say, she has a fucking bee in her crazy bonnet.”

“Well…”

He takes a step closer. “The press is already circulating pictures of us together. Of you living with me.”

“What?” My skin prickles with horror.

“Surprise,” he says with weak humor. “Britt told me. And I’m sorry for that, Chess. I didn’t think about them invading your privacy.”

“It isn’t your fault.” I swipe my hand in the air as if I can push away the whole shitcake of photographs of me with Finn being spread around like bad tabloid copy.

“Regardless, my mom follows my press religiously. She’s kind of proud that way.”

His mom is definitely adorable.

“She’ll have seen us together, which is probably why she called this morning. If I tell her we’re just friends, she won’t believe it anyway.” Finn ducks his head and makes a sound of frustration before looking back up at me. “If we say we’re dating, she’ll finally accept I’ve moved on with my life. And I can enjoy my mother’s company without wanting to run away screaming.”

A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. Who am I to criticize how he handles his family? I love my parents but they annoy me so much that I haven’t even told them about the fire. Not something I’m proud of, but not something I want to remedy either. “So you want me to be your lady beard?”

He blows out a breath. “I want you to go home with me because I want to spend my favorite holiday with you. Life is more fun with you in it, Chess.”

I’m in serious danger of melting into a sloppy Chess puddle. Thankfully, he keeps talking.

“But if you’re so inclined, then, yes, I would appreciate it if you could play the part of doting girlfriend for the duration.”

“You know, it never goes well when people pretend to be in a relationship for the sake of the parents,” I tell him. “It’s rom-com law. Next thing you know, you’ll be on stage somewhere, confessing your well-meaning lies into a mic while dozens of strangers look on.”

Wind sends the strands of hair whipping around the edges of his cap, and he steps a little closer, his body blocking the cold, as his eyes search mine. “It doesn’t have to be pretend, you know.”

My breath halts then leaves in a rush. “What?” The question is more of shock than confusion. But he answers it anyway.

“You and me. We could be real.” The blunt tip of Finn’s thumb, brushes back a wild lock of my hair and then lingers along my check. “We could stop dancing around this and enjoy each other.”

Panic claws up my chest. “Finn…” I try to draw in a breath. “I’m living with you…”

He smiles, his thumb still stroking. “Which makes things convenient.”

“No.” I cup my hand to his and still his touch on my cheek. “It makes it stupid.”

Finn’s expression shutters.

“Most nights, I cry myself to sleep,” I blurt out.

Finn sucks in a sharp breath, his brows knitting. “Chess—”

I hold him off when he tries to hug me. “I’m not telling you for sympathy. I barely want to admit this to myself. But losing everything has thrown me, Finn.”

“Honey. Fuck.” His other hand cups the back of my neck with a gentle squeeze. “You should have told me.”

“I’m telling you now. Because the one bright spot in all this, the one anchor I have, is you.”

A distressed, almost angry sound leaves him, and he rests his forehead against mine. “Honey, I can’t…” His eyes squeeze shut. He seems a loss for words.

My fingers curl around his wrists, holding on. “I don’t want to risk that. Not when I feel so…” Lost. But I can’t say it.

I don’t have to. He pulls me close, despite my protests and tucks me into the shelter of his chest. “It’s all right, Chester. I’ll never push you. We’re good, yeah? Everything will be okay.”

“Don’t coddle me,” I mutter, even though I can’t find the strength to move away. “I don’t need it.”

Finn hums in his throat. “Yes, I know. You’re a total badass. But you’ve got this wrong. You’re coddling me. I have needs, woman.”

A broken laugh escapes me. “I’m already regretting my confession.”

“Chess?”

“Yeah?” My voice is a rough mumble in his sweater.

“Shut up and let me hug you.”

With a sigh, I give up the ghost and lean fully into him, because hugging Finn should be a total body experience. And, despite my weak-ass protests, he soothes the ugly jitters that have started up in my chest and belly.