Chapter 21
Finley
“You’ve been such wonderful sports about all of this, and, as of our game last night, we’ve increased attendance by over twenty percent.
I’m so appreciative of all the participants and the PR team for making this happen,” Mr. Peterson announces from his place at the front of the room.
“And a special thank-you to the social media team, who have been working on overdrive since February, producing content and handling the increase in activity on our accounts. Sabrina, I’ll hand it over to you to tell us what today’s event looks like. ”
We’re back in our practice facility for this one; the players’ lounge has been reconfigured to have six pairs of seats spread in a semicircle in the middle of the room.
“Thanks, Ken,” Sabrina says, taking the microphone from Mr. Peterson. “Today’s event is a Yeti-tastic version of The Newlywed Game! You might not be real couples, but, heck, you spend more time together than you spend with your actual spouses.”
She pauses for laughter, but no one seems to think it’s that funny. It’s not untrue, but the married guys don’t like to be reminded of the fact they’re closer to their teammates than they are to the loves of their lives. Or, at least, they spend way more time with them.
J.D. is glaring at the head of PR, the angriest I’ve ever seen the team captain, but Rob gives him a consoling pat on the arm.
Larsen takes the opportunity to plant a wet kiss on Li’s cheek, giving a saucy wink to the phone that was shoved in his face to capture the moment.
The social media team can’t get enough of that guy.
He does have a knack for forcing his way into your heart.
“Anyway,” Sabrina continues. “We’ll ask a question, and one person from each pair will write down what they think their partner will answer on the dry-erase board.
After the answers are locked in, the other partner will reveal their answer out loud.
Points are awarded based on how well the answers match!
So, decide who will write the answers first for your team.
Have those people sit in the seat with the boards on them.
Other partners, you’ll be in the chairs across from them. ”
“Want to write first?” Beckett asks, his arm brushing against mine just enough to send a shockwave of adrenaline through me.
“Yes.”
“Great.” I can feel his gaze as it roams across my face and down my body. I’m not sure what he sees, but he says, “We’ve got this.”
Nodding, I watch Li and Larsen do an elaborate handshake and try to hold in a grimace. “I’m not sure whether we can beat them. I’m pretty sure they spend all their time together. Also, was that the handshake from Parent Trap?”
Beckett tilts his head slightly, considering his teammates. “I don’t know why this is only just occurring to me, but do they share an apartment?”
I shake my head. “They have their own… right?” I ask. “They definitely don’t live together… do they?” I’m truly not sure now that he mentions it, but I can’t imagine two grown men choosing to live with each other.
He shrugs. “Some guys just don’t like to be alone. Though I’m pretty sure they told me they live separately.”
“It’s alarming that neither of us knows the answer to that,” I murmur.
Beckett nods as we make our way to our seats. “I’m offended now that I think of it. They’ve been over to my place for dinner like four times since I moved in, and they’ve never invited me to theirs.”
“Maybe because it’s the equivalent of a college dorm,” I suggest as I pick up the board and slip into my seat.
“Good luck, Queenie,” Beckett says as the host of the event walks out.
She’s the friend Charlotte mentioned a while ago, and, according to Charlotte, she’s willing to do anything to turn the Denver Miners into a winning baseball team.
Unfortunately, no one wants to pitch at a mile high, so it’s an uphill battle.
“Hi, everyone,” she says with a smile. “I’m Sage Sinclair, the GM for the Denver Miners, Colorado’s professional baseball team. I’m so excited to be here with you all today. Before we get started, I wanted to invite everyone tuning in to join us on March 26 for Opening Day.”
Sage looks like she’s barely a day over twenty-five, with her sun-streaked blonde hair and loose beach weaves. She’s stunning, and I subtly look over at Beckett to see if he notices how pretty she is. He’s staring at her, but rather than desire in his eyes, all I see is polite interest.
Not that it would matter. They’d probably make a great couple.
“All right. Everybody ready to get started?” Sage asks, her voice clear and strong.
Noises of confirmation come from around the room.
“Okay. First question: If your partner could have any pet, what would it be?”
I think about it for a moment, remembering how Beckett had a dog as a kid, but that doesn’t feel quite right. Realizing I do know the answer, I quickly write it down on my board.
Sage starts with Rob and J.D., the team on the far end, and works her way around the circle, asking the question again and having each person verbally answer it.
Once they’ve given their choice, the guesser shows their response.
Unsurprisingly, J.D. is a dog man. Very surprisingly, Volkov wants a pet sugar glider.
“Kane, what pet would you have?” she asks when it’s our turn.
“Cat,” he answers with a definitive nod. “A black cat, if possible.”
“Coach?”
I turn my board around slowly to show: Black cat.
The shy smile Beckett offers is like a candle, warming me from my toes to the tip of my head. It’s like he’s surprised I was paying attention these past few weeks, or I might’ve forgotten or something. Like that’s possible.
Sage keeps us moving quickly, running us through questions like:
“Which app do they use the most on their phone?” Easy. Health.
“What’s the best vacation they’ve ever been on?” Fishing in Canada during college.
“What’s their go-to karaoke song?” The Killers’ “Mr. Brightside.” I died laughing when he told me that.
When Sage asks, “What is their favorite city to travel to for work?” a slow, evil grin threatens to spread across my face as I quickly scrawl down my answer.
It’s almost unbearable, waiting for Sage to ask the three teams before us.
Finally, when she asks Beckett, his eyes meet mine.
He closes them as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, but he does it anyway. “New Orleans.”
“Yes!” I practically yell, turning my board around to show off New Orleans written in the center.
Beckett shakes his head slowly, mouthing, “You’re dead to me.”
I laugh as I grab the eraser, ready for the rest of the questions.
We’re tied with Li and Larsen once again when we successfully get all ten of the first group of questions.
Beckett grabs the board and marker from me as I hand them over the gap between us.
His fingers brush mine, and I swear he holds on a millisecond longer than necessary.
It’s probably wishful thinking, but I swear he does it just to touch me.
I thought it was nerve-wracking being the one to answer, but being on this side of the question is even worse: What if I forget my answer? How does Beckett know that I’d pick a photographic memory if I could have one superpower, when I ran through five options before settling on that one?
I’m not surprised when Beckett correctly answers, “What’s your colleague’s favorite coffee order?” Larsen is so annoyed by how easy the question is that he actually yells the answer from across the room before I do.
We’re still tied with Li and Larsen when Sage asks, “Which fictional character best represents them at work?”
Beckett looks at me, raising his eyes from the board, and it’s impossible to miss the unfiltered joy dancing through them.
Jesus Christ. Did he pay someone to get this question in there?
Actually, from the way Larsen is cackling, if anyone bribed the social media team to include it, he’s at the top of the list.
“Elsa,” I reply begrudgingly when Sage gets to us, and Larsen loses it. He’s practically falling out of his seat, the whole room staring at the spectacle. Except me. I’m staring at Beckett, who looks… genuinely happy, his head dropped back, laughter pouring from him as his shoulders shake.
It’s a goddamn sight to behold, and it does something to my heart that I fear may be irreversible.
***
It’s a tie.
“Li and Larsen—”
“Double L!” Larsen yells from his place, whacking Li on the back enthusiastically.
“Won the cooking contest,” Sabrina continues. “Coach Blake and Kane took the victory in the talent competition. It was a four-way tie last week, and this week Larsen and Li and Coach Blake and Kane tied again.”
I know the summary is needed to catch up viewers who haven’t been paying attention the whole time, but all it feels like is a reminder that I should’ve been trying harder from the beginning.
Beckett and I should’ve worked with a chef to teach us how to cook.
I should’ve been studying up on Colorado knowledge for the trivia portion of the last event.
During our weekly call, even my dad decided to comment on the Yeti Challenge, saying something along the lines of, “If you’re going to do something, Finley, you’d better do it well.
Every single thing you do is a reflection of your work, and losing to your players is not the image you want to present to the world. ”
He’s right. I should’ve done more to prepare. I could’ve performed better. And I’m not just letting down my dad, I’m letting down kids like Lilly who need something to brighten up their weeks, months, or years of treatment.
The other contestants in the room start clapping as Sabrina hands Sage a yeti bobblehead as a thank-you for her time.
“We’ll see you all the first week of April for the final contest,” Sabrina says excitedly.
“Do we get to know what it is yet?” J.D. asks.
“Nope,” Sabrina replies sweetly. “It’s a surprise.”
Larsen walks over to us. “Okay, admit it.”
“Admit what?” Beckett asks, giving the rookie some serious side-eye.
Larsen points between us, and my whole body turns to ice. He can’t know anything. There isn’t anything to know.
Beckett looks my way and raises an eyebrow. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“Just ignore him,” J.D. suggests as he joins our group. “That’s what I do.”
Oh good. More people to witness whatever is about to come out of Larsen’s mouth. Not that I’m worried. Because there’s nothing to be worried about.
“Oh, come on, J.D. You know those two cheated! I mean, sure, Beckett got some softballs for Coach, but do you really think she knew all those things about him? I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know my first name.”
“You have a first name?” I ask. “I always assumed you just had the one… like Prince or Cher.”
Larsen scowls at me as the rest of the men laugh at his expense.
“Now that you mention it, I’m not entirely sure I know any of your first names,” I joke.
Larsen crosses his arms. “I’m not letting you distract me. I want to know how you cheated.”
I glance at Beckett, and he shrugs. “Don’t tell him. Make him sweat it.”
“So you did cheat?! I knew it. Li! I told you they cheated. They’ve just admitted it.” He twirls around, trying to find his friend.
“Did we admit to that?” I ask him.
“I didn’t hear you.” J.D. smirks.
We all disperse, leaving behind an annoyed Larsen.
“Good work out there, Queenie,” Beckett says as I turn to go to my office.
“You, too. I guess we make a pretty good team.”
As I work that afternoon, my mind keeps drifting back to Beckett and the limited time we have left together, trying to convince myself that maybe we could still be friends.
Maybe we could still hang out and watch film together a couple of days a week or something.
Just when we’re home. Just as friends. Maybe.