Chapter 6 #3
“You’ve come to the right place,” he said. “Come with me.”
Sam followed him up a small flight of stairs to another floor, marveling at the size of his suite and the panoramic view of the mountains.
He opened a dressing room door, leaned against the doorjamb, and gestured to a suitcase.
“Aunt Miranda arrived last night, a day early, and left one of her cases here as she doesn’t need it—it’s just the extras she brings when she travels.
They’re staying with friends until tomorrow.
She always brings fresh new swimming suits for anyone who might forget theirs, go figure.
” He shrugged. Sam slipped by him. “She won’t mind you grabbing one, I promise.
Grab something and put it on. I’ll be out there.
” He pointed to a sliding door and left Sam to change.
Sam looked around. The dressing room was larger than her bedroom back home.
One wall was taken up with hanging rails, shelves and drawers.
Towels, toiletries and slippers filled baskets arranged neatly on the bottom shelves.
Robes hung from the rails. So, this was what it was like to be a star.
Opening the suitcase Finn had pointed to, she found a selection of new swimsuits and rummaged through until she found one that might fit.
A few minutes later she stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
The pale pink one-piece swimsuit was far skimpier than she’d realized, with high-cut legs and a low-cut front complete with zipper that went down to her belly button.
She tugged the zipper up and it promptly unzipped itself until it was half open revealing a sizeable amount of her cleavage.
Under normal circumstances she’d have been delighted with an opportunity to look sexy in a swimsuit, but not today.
Not now Maya had alerted her to the dangers of their secret plan, and especially now that her hormones seemed to be hijacking her entire body and mind.
A vision of Finn pulling the zip down the rest of the way before slipping the straps from her shoulders made her gasp and dash for the suitcase to check if there was another suit that might better fit her.
But there were none. The rest were all much too big, or just bikinis.
And there was no way she was putting on one of those—they seemed tinier than the swimsuit.
She took a last glance at herself in the mirror, steeled her shoulders and pulled herself up tall.
All she had to do was to go out there and be normal.
“Friends,” she said quietly to her reflection.
“You are friends, remember that. That’s all.
The pretending thing doesn’t have to change that.
” Shaking her shoulders, she left the dressing room and tiptoed out into the hall.
Through the glass sliding doors she could see the back of Finn’s bare muscular shoulders.
He was facing the mountains, chest-deep in bubbling-hot water.
Sam shivered. His arms were tanned, and the tattoo on his forearm that she’d noticed when she’d walked in on him naked was clearer now, but she couldn’t quite make it out.
Opening the door Sam stepped into the cold afternoon air, her eyes glued to Finn’s tattoo.
His forearms flexed as he bent his arms and stretched before turning around.
The tattoo mesmerized her: a small compass with the outline of a mountain ridge inside the circle.
North was marked with a tiny snowflake. Sam longed to touch it.
Would it be so bad if she did? Finn looked up, and waved, and the tattoo disappeared from sight.
A hot wave of longing beginning in the base of her stomach took Sam by surprise.
Shivering, she pulled the zipper on her suit up, again, and quickly went to the tub before her nerves got the better of her—it would be impossible to explain the crazy zipper to Finn without drawing his attention to her breasts. Saying nothing Sam stepped in.
The water was hot, and Sam felt her face glow red as she caught Finn’s jaw drop open a little.
He shut his mouth, and she caught his Adam’s apple bob before he leaned back with a grimace.
Sinking into the water Sam blew out a long stream of air.
Despite the embarrassment of the unzipping swimsuit and actually getting into the tub, she was glad she was there.
The cool air on her face was refreshing while the hot water massaged her body in places that she hadn’t realized she was tense in.
“You’re right,” she said after a few minutes of silence. Leaning her head back against the timber surround, she allowed her shoulders to drop from their tense position by her ears. “This is exactly what I needed. I’d say it’s helping you after yesterday’s qualies. You’d some tough competition.”
“Yeah, it’s working magic on my muscles.” Finn rolled his head to look over at her. “This is goals, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” Sam smiled. “Who can we get to give us a hot tub?”
Finn laughed. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”
“Finn,” Sam began. She had the urge to tell him that she was crushing on him, that right now it wasn’t hard to pretend to be his girlfriend because that’s what she wanted more than anything else.
But that wouldn’t be fair. They’d made their pact not to let their feelings for one another ruin their chances of an Olympic gold, and she had to stick to it.
“Yeah?” Finn had his eyes closed, and his head leaned back on the timber, his chest, wide and dusted with hair, was practically begging for her to reach over and run her hands over his chest and shoulders.
Sam gazed over him, wondering when he’d gotten so broad, so fit, so ridiculously hot.
She longed to kiss and lick his exposed neck, nibble on his ear, straddle his thick thighs.
Gulping, she sat on her hands to stop herself from acting out on her impulses.
Random, hot, vivid impulses about her best friend, the one friend she’d never be able to live without.
Maybe Maya was right—maybe this was a dangerous game to play.
Finn opened his eyes and looked at her. “You okay?”
“Oh!” Sam blinked and snorted. “God. Yes. Sorry …”
“Worried about the qualie later?” A furrow appeared between Finn’s blue eyes.
“No, well, yes, I suppose so.” Sam grasped onto his explanation for her blatant ogling and for her sudden apparent lack of ability to string a sentence together. What else could she do? “I think I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll be more than fine.” Finn sat up. He slid closer to Sam, his eyes filled with concern. “Sam, don’t stress this. Don’t freeze. Remember to have fun—that’s what you always tell me, and it works—every time.”
“Have fun.” Sam nodded. Her lips parted and she breathed in sharply as her eyes wandered down Finn’s torso, then back to his lips before she blinked and looked into his eyes. His eyes seemed to dilate as she whispered the word again. “Fun.”
Steam curled around them, rising into the crisp mountain air.
The water bubbled softly as Finn leaned back, casually draping his tanned arms along the edge of the tub.
His hair was a little damp, tendrils curled, and droplets of water clung to his stubble and eyelashes.
His eyes flicked from Sam’s eyes to her lips and back.
He looked a little confused but intrigued, exactly how she was feeling.
“Yeah, have some fun—you’ve been way too serious lately.” His voice was low, teasing. He cocked an eyebrow, as if testing her out. “You’re at your best when you loosen up.”
Sam’s heart, and between her legs, gave a traitorous flutter.
How was she supposed to loosen up when he was there, bare-chested, gorgeous and staring at her like he wanted to have fun with her in ways that made aprés-ski look tame.
The heat from the water did nothing but send her feverish thoughts into overdrive.
Her skin prickled, not from the cold air, but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on her for just a fraction longer than necessary.
She swallowed hard, focusing on the conversation, not the sharp line of his jaw, the way the muscles in his forearm flexed as he tapped his fingers on the edge of the tub, or where she imagined his fingers might be if she leaned in to this flirtation.
And what if she did, what if she leaned right in to this flirtation—what would happen?
They were adults now, on the edge of achieving—or losing—everything they’d worked for.
But … surely if they crossed a line, it could be seen as something inevitable, couldn’t it?
It was only a stupid childish promise they’d made to each other, way back when they hadn’t understood the weight of it, that was holding them back.
That was all. And anyway, their fake relationship could explain a slip.
A touch. A kiss. A night. And God, how she wanted a night—just one night where she didn’t have to remember it wasn’t real, and that stupid promise.
They had promised each other no romance, no falling in love, no distractions—but all she could think about was how much she wanted to cross that line. Would he kiss her if she made a move? Or would he be horrified?
“What is going on in that head of yours?” Finn grinned playfully. “You look like you’re thinking of something you shouldn’t be.”
“H-hah!” Sam stuttered. She’d forgotten how easily he’d always read her. “What makes you think that I’m thinking anything other than about the qualie?”
“Because I know you.” Finn leaned forward slightly, the water between them suddenly charged with even more heat. “And right now, I know you’re not thinking of the qualie at all. You’re thinking of something that you absolutely shouldn’t be—you have your filthy mind face on.”