Chapter Fifteen
Out of the Woods
On Monday, Finn and Robbie dressed in the costumes of the week and waited for their call.
“You ready for this?” Robbie asked.
Finn picked up his phone and thumbed over to Holly’s contact. He took a deep breath and sent the text he’d drafted that morning, then typed out, Sorry about this.
Then he turned it off.
“Let’s do it.”
This week’s challenge was supposed to be a quickstep. Like every weekly challenge, it involved a certain number of prescribed steps or moves.
Stef had designed a routine for them, and they’d practiced it just enough for the film crew to be none the wiser.
Finn and Robbie had no intention of performing that routine.
They weren’t even using the same music. Finn had sneaked into the sound booth and renamed the music file so their production team would be none the wiser.
The costume department had already designed their getups for this week to match the original song.
The simple black leggings and tight shirts—Finn’s with a deep V, Robbie’s sleeveless—would work just as well for their replacement song.
Just because they were throwing the competition didn’t mean they weren’t going to put on a good show.
Finn had simply omitted every single requirement for the weekly challenge to ensure they were disqualified.
The arena lights went low. “Game faces on,” Robbie said, doing an absolutely terrible job of it. He followed up with a slap to Finn’s ass that Finn was almost certain the cameras caught.
And then it was just a matter of taking their places and waiting for the spotlights to find them and the music to start.
Finn closed his eyes and took in the murmurs of the audience. If this was going to be his last performance as a competitor, he wanted it to be a good one.
The spotlight hit Finn first. He opened his eyes with a grin as the song track let out a wolf whistle.
Across the ice, Robbie turned around to face him. The piano came in, followed by the iconic bass riff.
John Travolta proclaimed his chills were multiplying. The audience screamed.
Finn didn’t think he made a particularly convincing Sandra Dee.
For one thing, no way in hell was he doing that to his hair.
But from the predatory way Robbie watched him as he approached, first in a slow S-shape, then in a controlled spinning slide that ended with him on his knees at Finn’s feet, Finn was doing just fine.
The stop was illegal, of course. If Robbie didn’t get up from his slide and continue skating, it counted as a fall.
Finn put his foot on Robbie’s shoulder and shoved him back. “This is so unbelievably hot,” Robbie had told him in practice. “I’m sorry in advance if my boner ruins everything.”
Finn had reminded him of the miracle of dance belts. Now, in the moment, he was grateful for his own, because attempting anything like a sashay on ice with an erection would’ve been impossible.
The back-and-forth continued, and so did the intentional rule breaking.
They dance-stepped forward with Robbie’s hands on Finn’s waist, both facing front, then did the same sequence with Finn going backward, still in hold—far longer than permitted.
The entire time they faced each other, they held eye contact, grinning like fools.
Most of the audience would have no idea that they meant to throw the competition. But for Michelle, it would be obvious.
Robbie rotated too many times between the assisted jumps—Finn had never gotten to be on that end of it, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at having Robbie basically throw him into the air. He could feel the warmth of Robbie’s smile as he did it.
But he loved the last move the most: Robbie putting him in an illegal upside-down split lift with his ass pointed at the ceiling for three rotations, and then swinging him down to catch him with Finn’s legs around Robbie’s waist and his arms around Robbie’s neck just as the song ended.
The arena erupted.
“Jesus Christ,” Robbie said through his grin. His grip on Finn didn’t falter. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
Finn let himself throw his head back as he laughed.
Robbie set him down in a showy twirl, then grabbed his hand for their final bow.
And then it was time to face the music. So to speak.
Finn and Robbie skated over to the broadcast box to do their post-performance interview with Michelle.
It took a moment before either of them tried to say anything; no one would have heard them. Finally the cheers died off and Michelle offered, “Guys, uh… what was that?”
More roaring from the audience. Finn couldn’t answer over them, so he scratched the back of his neck and waited for things to settle.
When the volume lowered, Michelle cut in before either of them could speak.
“We’re just going to explain for the people in the audience—this was a forfeit on your part?
You didn’t complete any of the elements of the challenge, aside from the style of dance, and you broke just about every rule of ice-dancing competition in a way that feels deliberate. ”
“That’s pretty much it, yeah,” Finn said ruefully. He looked at Robbie, hoping he didn’t have too obvious hearts in his eyes but aware that hope was probably futile.
Robbie took his cue. “I’ve got some important stuff going on in my personal life that needs my attention—you’ve probably seen some of it in the news—and I just felt like I couldn’t give the competition the attention it deserved.
So I made my own donation to Youth Line and asked Finn to help me figure out how to bow out without disappointing anyone. ”
“Well….” Michelle looked up at the stands. “I don’t think anyone here tonight is disappointed. Broken rules or not, that was fun to watch. Any significance to the song choice? We had you down for ‘Waterloo.’”
“Which would’ve been on theme,” Finn admitted. “You know, forfeit and surrender and whatever. But I guess, doing it on purpose, it didn’t feel like giving up.”
“And, uh,” Robbie broke in, “my senior year of high school, the music department put on a production of Grease. I desperately wanted to be Danny Zuko, but it would’ve interfered with hockey, so. This was very healing for me.”
Uh-oh. He knew what Michelle was going to ask. The light in her eyes gave it away. “And Finn? Did you always secretly want to play Sandra Dee?”
Finn cleared his throat and affected the flattest voice he could muster. “No comment.”
They went to the judges, though Finn got the distinct impression they did so out of habit, that Michelle wasn’t sure what else to do.
The judges applauded their very entertaining and talented rule breaking, refused to give any constructive criticism, and even mourned their departure from the show.
“You were just so entertaining to watch,” sighed judge number two.
The hardass laughed and told them to get off the ice.
Robbie and Finn took their final bows and did just that.
“Finn Graham, I am going to murder you,” Holly said once they were backstage.
“Sorry, Holly.” Finn tried to look chagrined, but it was a hard task when he couldn’t repress his grin.
“You do realize that I now have to totally pivot programming for the next episode since there’s no way—no point in doing a dance-off between you and someone else. Right?”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, I mean, I sorta figured….” He cast her a sheepish look.
“Argh,” Holly groaned into her hands, then peered at Finn over her fingers.
“Finn, put those eyes away. Stop it. Jesus. Seriously, stop looking at me like that. Ugh, fine, I forgive you and your boyfriend for your super cheesy and adorable rule-breaking dance that’s got you out of the competition and free to date in public, even if it made my life harder. ”
Finn grinned at her. “You do?”
“Do not push it, idiot. You are so lucky that I love you and want to see you happy.” She wagged a finger at him like a disappointed nanny, and before Finn could protest, she turned it on Robbie.
“And you, Zeiger, you better be worth all this fuss. Don’t think I’ll take my eye off you just because I’ve forgiven Finn.
You break his heart and I will find ways to make your life miserable.
Don’t let this cute face fool you, I can and will enact justice. ”
Finn pulled a commiserating face in Robbie’s direction, who, to his credit, looked alarmed. “She’s not lying, she’s… creative.”
“Well, Holly, I have no intention of hurting Finn. I’m smitten.” He shot a besotted look in Finn’s direction, and Finn wanted to curl up in his arms.
He settled for giving him his own sappy look back.
And Holly groaned. “Good Lord, you two are disgusting. I already miss you hiding this from me.”
“Sorry, Holly.” Finn smiled. “Now that I can talk about it with you, I’m never going to stop. I’ve missed talking to you.” Holly didn’t know what was about to hit her.
After he got kicked off the show, Robbie’s days opened up.
In the business of the past few weeks, he’d forgotten how quiet retirement was. With Sawyer on his own schedule, and without the need to hide his relationship with Finn, Robbie’s days consisted mostly of spending time with Finn or talking with lawyers.
The day after their Grease homage, the criminal lawyer Robbie had hired for his brother called and told Robbie they were taking a plea deal.
She’d never been confident in Vince’s chances at trial and from the start had urged Vince to take the best deal they could talk the crown into.
“He might get out in time to see Sawyer graduate high school, with good behaviour, but that’s up to him and the parole board.”
With Finn and Robbie officially disqualified from Dance Your Ice Off, Thursday’s competition promised a distinct lack of drama. Sure, there was the group performance, but they didn’t have any material left over to pad out the rest of the forty-two minutes.
“It’s your fault,” Holly said cheerfully when she pitched her substitute idea to Robbie. “The least you can do is help me pull it off.”
Robbie scanned over the notes she’d outlined and grinned. “Well, if the people need me, obviously I’ll be there.”
Which was how Wednesday afternoon found Robbie with a microphone, a silly disguise—a stick-on handlebar mustache and a pair of very reflective aviators—and the ridiculous stage name Mario Butts, trailing a camera crew as he walked through the rink to interview his former competition.
“On a scale of one to ten, how relieved are you not to have to skate against Robbie Zeiger?”
To her credit, Emily barely flinched. “I don’t know, like maybe a two? Guy can barely do a crossover. Finn was totally carrying him.”
How rude, Robbie thought delightedly, tamping down on the urge to laugh. He turned to Alonzo. “Who would win in a thumb war, you or Robbie?”
Alonzo didn’t know what a thumb war was. Robbie and Emily demonstrated. He obliterated her.
“You cheated!” she complained.
Then it was on to the next set of victims.
“What do you miss most about having Finn Graham around the rink?”
Holly wrinkled her nose and pretended to think about it. “When he was around, nobody stuck a microphone in my face.”
Robbie nodded sagely and held the microphone in front of Stef, who said, “He smells really good.”
Too bad this show wasn’t going to be around much longer, because Robbie could do this shit his whole life. “He does smell really good. Very suspicious. Do you know what it is?”
“It’s his hair product. It’s like, vanilla-tobacco scented. Costs fifty bucks a pop.”
“Holly!” Finn protested from twenty feet away.
“I can almost smell him now,” Stef said, mock wistful.
When Robbie had made his way through the cast and the willing members of the crew, Finn said, “Are you sure you made the right call bowing out? Seems like you’re having a good time.”
Robbie glanced around to ensure the coast was clear and then planted a firm kiss on Finn’s mouth. “Hundred percent sure.”
Finn said, “Try that again with the mustache off.”
Then, Thursday night, Robbie jumped out of a cake at the end of the group performance and led the contestants through a series of silly games.
The pair with the most points at the end would win a get-out-of-the-bottom-two-free pass.
Emily and Alonzo clinched it in ice charades with And Then There Were None.
Robbie got a standing ovation of his hosting skills as Mario Butts, even if his mustache did fall off twice.
“Heart isn’t in it, my ass,” Finn grumbled to him afterward, but he was smiling. “You just didn’t want to share the spotlight.”
When Robbie’s phone rang that morning with a call from his agent, he’d blinked at it with surprise.
Since his retirement weeks prior, Bill’s regular phone calls had all but stopped.
They’d talked about the TV show of course—Robbie got Bill to look through the contract Sawyer had signed for him just to make sure—but now that he was no longer an active player, the offers for appearances, endorsements, and partnerships came much less frequently.
So when Bill told Robbie that he’d gotten a job offer, Robbie raised his eyebrows.
“A job offer for a retired goalie?”
Bill huffed. “They sounded serious, so get your butt down here for two.” Then, like a TV hero, he hung up without saying goodbye, because he knew better than to give Robbie time to negotiate.
Figuring he shouldn’t piss off the man who was in charge of finding him time-filling employment in his old age, Robbie thoroughly kissed Finn goodbye and headed out.
The ride was familiar, but Robbie couldn’t say he missed battling downtown traffic.
Bill stood waiting for him at the arena entrance, and Robbie gave him a look. “It’s like you don’t trust me.”
Bill shrugged. “I was around the corner.”
They headed into Novabank Arena together, and soon enough they were seated across the table from some familiar and unfamiliar faces.
“We’ve been watching Dance Your Ice Off. You’ve proved you’ve got appeal beyond short social-media content,” said one of the suits.
Another nodded. “We were already talking recruitment when we saw the last episode.”
“Let me guess, it was the mustache that did it.”
Suit one, the friendliest of the bunch, laughed. “Oh definitely. So, what do you think, Zeiger? Want to do the same kind of thing for us?”
Robbie considered, tilted his head, scratched a cheek. “So, you want me to do silly interviews of Beavers players while wearing a fake mustache?”
“Something like that,” agreed Suit Two.
Robbie drummed his fingers. “I’m listening. Tell me more.”