16. Finley
Chapter sixteen
Finley
It’s evening, and the heavy late spring air is damp against my skin as the group of us stand around our parked vehicles outside a motel in southern Oklahoma.
Ezra and Ryker are looking at something on the computer perched on the red truck’s hood, and Hawk is inside grabbing us some rooms for the night while Joey and I type out texts on our phones. We’ve finished up our last chase and are all ready to rest, especially after another failed rocket launch attempt and a missed tornado that was too far from us to reach in time.
I pull up Jake’s contact and shoot him a text while we wait.
ME
First day was good, all safe.
I expect him to take time to answer since he’s probably at work, but his text back is immediate.
JAKE
Thank the twister gods. I didn’t think I’d hear from you, but I’m glad you’re safe. Where are you?
ME
Somewhere in Oklahoma. Getting a room for the night.
JAKE
Hopefully not with Ryker?
I roll my eyes and send him a gif of a cute cartoon bunny giving him a middle finger.
JAKE
Does that mean you are?!?!?
ME
I’m not answering you.
JAKE
*side-eye emoji* I’m making a mental note to ask you about that response later. I gotta get back to work. Lots of parties here tonight looking to ride Tornado. Love you.
I smile at the name of Jake’s mechanical bull. When he told me he got a new one for his bar and named it after me, I told him Finley was a dumb name for a bull. But when he corrected me and said its name was Tornado, I knew it was perfect. I like it even more now that the darn thing makes the bar a ton of money.
ME
Love you, too.
I slip my phone back in my jeans pocket as Joey does the same. “You good, Finney?” he asks.
“Yep. Could use a shower and a crispy Diet Coke, maybe a massage and a shot of whiskey, too. Otherwise, I’m good.”
“Hmm, a shower is probably wise—you stink.”
I pull away from him and scoff. “I do not.”
He holds up his fingers until the pads are an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”
I smack his arm, and he chuckles. “Okay, you don’t stink, but if you’re serious about the crispy Diet Coke and whiskey, I know a place that’ll take care of that. As far as the massage, I’ve been told I have magic hands.”
He wiggles his fingers at me, and I laugh. “I may take you up on that.”
The sound of a throat clearing has me looking at Ryker. He’s pretending to pay attention to whatever Ezra is showing him on the computer, but I can see his bearded jaw is clenched so tight he may break some teeth—which means he heard what Joey said as well as my response. If he was looking at me, I’d give him the stink eye, but he’s not.
After our talk in the bathroom, he’s been at least nicer to Joey and everyone on the team, but he could still work on his reactions to Joey’s natural flirtatiousness. He’s like this with everyone. And I still can’t believe Ryker doesn’t notice the way Hawk and Joey look at each other, or if he does, he doesn’t realize what it means. That’s the only explanation for why he’s still being weird every time Joey touches me or says something remotely playful. To add to that, Ryker doesn’t have any claim over me—we’ve made that clear.
Joey leans down so his mouth is near my ear and only I can hear his next words. “Looks like the professor is a little jealous of my mad massage skills. ”
I turn my gaze to Joey, who looks like the devil in a cowboy hat that he is with a smirk on his lips and a toothpick he got from somewhere stuck between his lips. “Don’t start.”
He chews on the little stick of wood. “He wants you so bad, Fin-Fin.”
I shove at him playfully, and he cackles.
“What’s so funny over there?” Ezra asks as he shuts his computer. He and Ryker both turn toward us.
“Nothing, little inside joke,” Joey answers, pulling away from me and rubbing his hands. “But Finley made a good suggestion. She wants a drink, and I could use one, too. There’s a fine establishment within walking distance from here, according to Google Maps. Could be fun to let off some steam after that last chase.”
“I’ve got some social media stuff I want to get done,” Ezra says, “but y’all should go. Ryker needs a drink.”
We all look at Ryker, who has his hands shoved in his pockets and very much looks like he could use a drink. I know he’s disappointed the launches haven’t gone as planned, and even though he acted more like the man I know after we talked at the diner, joking and laughing more easily with everyone the last few hours, he’s still acting uptight—especially if I compare him to the playful and unserious extreme storm chaser I’ve seen on TT’s videos.
“I should probably stay sober,” he says.
“Come on, old man. We’re done chasing for the night. One drink won’t kill you. Maybe you’ll even pick up a girl.” Ezra checks his shoulder. “Maybe a horizontal dance will make you feel better.”
Joey stifles a laugh, and I try to keep my face unreadable, even if the comment makes me nauseous. The last thing I want to think about is Ryker sleeping with a woman from a bar. Of course, that would be his choice, and like him with me, I don’t have any claim on him. That still doesn’t make the image easier to stomach .
“Sorry, Finley,” Ezra says, “that was crass.”
I blink up into his eyes before I realize I failed at keeping my emotion off my face. It’s scrunched up in a sour expression, and apparently, he thought I was grossed out by what he said. I was, but not for the reason he assumed.
“You can say whatever you want in front of me. I’m used to hanging around men.” Which is very true. I have girlfriends, and I enjoy spending time with all genders, but somehow, my life has been me and dudes. If I’m not around my dad, then there’s Jake and my uncle, and most of the people I spend time with at school are men. Not by choice, but because the meteorology program is mostly male. It’s how the cookie crumbled.
“Well, you can hang around more of them tonight!” Joey waggles his eyebrows. “I remember you being a great dancer, too. I call dibs on the first one!”
“Joey.” I laugh, ignoring Ryker’s glare that I feel burning into the side of my head. “Maybe we should call it a night instead.”
He shakes his head. “You wanted a crispy Diet Coke and a shot of whiskey, I can provide that. Then when we get back, I’ll rub your feet.”
Ezra laughs. “You can come to my room and rub my feet if you want.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Joey volleys back, making Ezra laugh harder.
“Alright, I have bad news.” The four of us turn to Hawk, who’s walking up with an envelope in his hand. “They only have two rooms left. Ryker, myself, and Ezra can share—they have a cot they can roll in for one of us—but…”
“Fin and I can definitely be roomies,” Joey says way too happily. “It will be easier to rub her feet that way. Right, Finney?”
Hawk looks at Joey like he’s a crazed lunatic, and I bite my lip to keep from giggling.
“Rub her feet?” he asks.
“It’s fine, I’ll room with Joey,” I say, cutting in so Joey doesn’t launch into an explanation.
“Are you sure?” Hawk asks. “If not, we can get back on the road.”
“It’s really fine. I’ll make him sleep on the floor.”
“Hey!” he retorts. “We can put up a wall of pillows.”
“We can get back on the road,” Ryker interrupts.
Joey grins like a fool at Ryker’s response, and Ezra looks confused while Hawk looks…frustrated?
“I can handle Joey for a night,” I say so things don’t have a chance to get weird—or more weird. “I trust him to be a gentleman.”
Everyone except Ryker chuffs a laugh at that notion, but I know it’s all in good fun. I do trust Joey, and it’s not like there’s another option unless I share with Ezra or Hawk or Ryker—which definitely would not be good or appropriate. Joey is the safest choice.
“I’ll be a good boy, I promise. No touchie…unless you want it.” He sing-songs the last part.
“Joey!” Hawk scolds, but I shake my head and push Joey with my shoulder. Though I’ll admit, Hawk gets bonus points for showing no jealousy. I don’t know exactly how their relationship works, but he seems to get Joey and how he operates. Which I appreciate.
“Let’s get to our rooms, and then get that drink,” Joey says.
“Drink?” Hawk asks, a smile on his lips. “I could use a drink.”
“It’s settled, then. We’re going out!” Joey cheers. “But first, we shower.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me again, and I shove him harder, ignoring Ryker’s still-burning stare as I head to the back of the truck to grab my things. This is going to be an interesting night.