Page 172 of Rookie Attraction

My hands are so damp it takes me three tries to open the cap.

“The Rush had a tough road trip,” Peter declares and stares at me. “You must be anxious for a break.”

“Definitely.”

“But I have to ask, what the hell is that guy Brady doing out there?” Peter grumbles. “A random fan from the crowd could play better defense. He’s making Sorensen’s job difficult.”

“It’s not a great situation.”

“What Sel really means is, Brady’s a dickbag,” Finn adds. “He’s a lazy player and a homophobic asshole. We’re hoping he gets traded as soon as possible.”

“There have been complaints about him.” I shrug. “But who knows what management will decide. All I have to say is that we need Finn back as soon as possible. He’s in it to win it, every game.”

“That’s my boy,” Peter replies as he looks at Finn, and then Will. “All my children work hard and don’t give up.”

Will looks like he’s about to say something when Finn’s stomach rumbles loudly.

“When was the last time you ate?” I ask.

“Breakfast?”

“Finn.”

“How about you guys head out for a bite?” Peter suggests.

I glance at Finn, and he gives me a nod.

“Can we bring you something back?” I ask.

Peter waves me off, but I already know I’m getting him food.

I turn to Will. “I spotted a place when I was walking here, South Side Chop. It’s small, but busy. Any good?”

“Oh, yeah. It doesn’t look like much,” Will offers. “But they have the best steaks in the city.”

“Finn?”

“I’m in.”

Will looks at Peter. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

“Take your time. I’m going to take a nap like your mom.”

The three of us make our way out of the room and remove our medical gear. It’s so good to finally see Finn’s face in person. His smile, his freckles, those gorgeous dimples… fuck, I want to grab him and kiss him senseless. Instead, I step further away, walking beside Will, and we talk hockey and football as Finn follows us down the hallway and into the elevator.

Ten minutes later, we enter South Side and gratefully defrost. The place is cozy, with a fireplace near the bar and music playing low enough for us to have an actual conversation. It’s bustling and the smells from the open kitchen make my mouth water. A real meal, finally, and better than any plane food, business class or not. Will asks the hostess for a booth at the back of the restaurant, and we’re escorted through the main dining room into a private nook.

I barely get my jacket and beanie removed when Finn squeezes my arm.

“Will knows,” he whispers and pulls his hand away. “About us. I’m a crap liar with him, especially in person, so I gave him the whole story. I had to tell someone. So I did. Well, I told Silas too. I’m not sorry. In fact, it’s a relief. Will’s fine, it’s good.”

I’m not shocked, but when I look over at Will for his reaction, he’s covering his mouth with his hand.

“What were we thinking anyway?” Finn mutters, and I turn my attention to him. “What are the chances you’d have a stopover here, today? When I say it out loud now, it’s so lame. I don’t think my parents buy it either. So, you see, I had to tell Will. And I didn’t want Will staring at you, and me staring at you, and you staring at the two of us, wondering why we’re staring and it all being so freaking awkward because we know, but you don’t know that he knows⁠—”

I can’t hold on any longer. My laughter echoes over the din.

“No one can open a conversation like you, Finn.” I smile at him, taking in every detail of his pretty face. “Absolutely no one.”