Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
CURTIS
Finn’s burning stare heats the back of my neck as I take my turn. Or maybe that’s embarrassment from knowing this is going to go poorly.
It’s a miracle I manage to hit one pin, but I’ll take it. At least it wasn’t a gutter ball. My second turn isn’t as miraculous. It does go in the gutter.
I spin back toward Finn and dance my way back to the seats. “I’d like to see you beat that.” Fake confidence, and you will feel it. Or some shit.
Finn doesn’t react. It’s like he’s frozen where he’s standing. I’m not even sure he saw how many pins I knocked down.
I wave a hand in front of his face. “Finn? You still with me? Or did you find that so incredibly sexy you’re trying to restrain yourself?”
He shakes away whatever trance he’s in and stares down at me. “W-what?”
My light mood shifts because he looks genuinely … lost. “Are you okay? If you’re nervous about doing badly, look at my score.”
His lips turn up as if to smile, but it looks like he’s forcing it. “Sorry. I spaced out for a second there.”
“I can tell. It’s, uh, your turn.”
Finn nods, just once, and then goes to pick up his ball. His form is about as bad as mine, but at least his bowl is down the middle. Mostly. It knocks five pins down on the left-hand side.
“Looks like I’m already winning at this game of who can be the worst,” I say.
This time, when his lips hitch upward, it looks genuine. “Is that the game we’re playing?”
“It’s probably the only way I’ll win.”
“It’s been one frame.”
“Not even one complete frame. You still have another turn, and your score is already five times as much as mine.”
His ball arrives back up the conveyor belt thing, and he picks it up. “Are you always this dramatic when it comes to losing?”
“Always. Have you not heard of our famous game nights? I make sure to hide the knives before everyone arrives.”
“Mel has said a game night will be good for me to meet a few people, so she’s going to set one up soonish, but she didn’t tell me anything about the possibility of being stabbed at one.”
“Anything is possible at game night, but me whining about losing is probably the most likely.”
“Good to know.” Finn turns and walks toward the lane, but when he gets to the line, he unceremoniously throws the ball. It lands with a loud thunk and then rolls straight into the gutter. When he returns, I hold my hand to my heart.
“Are you throwing the game for me?”
“No idea what you’re talking about. I was trying a new technique.”
“Was that technique trying to put a hole in the ground? I’d say you almost succeeded.”
He looks back at the lane. “Pfft. There isn’t even a dent. You’re up.”
While he still doesn’t seem like the flirty guy he was five minutes ago, the tightness in his stance and demeanor does dissipate some.
I don’t know what I said or did that made him short-circuit, but I’m going to tell myself that it was all me.
My bedazzling charm made him frazzled. Together, we’re befrazzling. Totally a word I’m coining.
It’s either that or the way I bowl is such a turnoff, it melted away any attraction he had for me.
The latter would be better for logical reasons but terrible for my ego.
I’m too busy thinking about it to focus on throwing my ball, so when I let it go and it goes speeding up the lane, I almost don’t believe it when I knock all but one pin down.
I jump and hoot. “I am so good at bowling!”
When I turn and lock eyes with Finn, his shoulders shake with a laugh, but he lowers his head like I’m the most embarrassing person he’s ever met.
But yeah, I’m still going to go with him being too attracted to me, and that’s why his mood has shifted so drastically. That’s way better for my self-esteem.
Getting Finn to talk is like pulling teeth, so once we finish bowling—with me losing spectacularly—I swallow my offer to hang out some more. I don’t need to spend the rest of the day second-guessing myself. I do that enough on my own.
The only thing I can think of is that he’s feeling weird over Mel’s rocky attempt to set us up. I don’t care, but I don’t think it matters how many times I tell him it’s fine because he won’t believe me.
With any luck, he’ll go home, get cranky with her and tell her to stop, and then he’ll be back to the adorable giant he was at the engagement party.
The flip side is if he keeps being awkward as hell, my attraction to him might die a quick death. That really isn’t as appealing as it should be.
I jump in my car and flick a message to the group chat to see if anyone is around. I’m not even sure if I want company, but if I don’t catch up with someone, I’m likely to end up back at my apartment, obsessing over Finn’s weirdness and making unnecessary changes to my graphic novel.
Thankfully, Alfie writes back almost immediately to say he’s finished work and has stopped into the cafe right near it. I let him know I’ll be ten minutes and head over.
Alfie’s tall, blond, and muscular, and when we met a few years ago, I considered sleeping with him.
Until he opened his mouth. He’s a fun guy, but some days, I think he’s way more attracted to himself than he could be to anyone else, and I’m glad we kept things platonic.
After the interest he was shooting Finn’s way at the engagement party, I just hope we can keep things that way.
He pushes his signature glasses up his nose when he sees me and lifts his hand.
“Curtis, yoo-hoo! Over here!”
I flick him a wave so he knows I’ve seen him—how could I not—and then order a coffee and join him.
“Early finish?”
He groans. “Yes, but only because I have an early start tomorrow. International clients are the worst.”
Not like I have any idea about that.
“But screw work. Did you see Melanie’s brother the other night?”
I struggle to follow that through. “Finn?”
“Yes. Finn.” Alfie leans across the table. “Think he’s on our team?”
“He is.” The way Alfie’s eyes light up makes me regret confirming it though.
“Wait …” He runs a teasing glance over me. “How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“Before or after you fucked?”
“How exactly would it come up after?”
“I don’t know, it’s your story.”
As much as I’d love to kill his chances, I come clean. “We didn’t sleep together. Mel has been trying to set us up.”
“You?” Alfie sniffs in offense and takes a sip of his coffee. “Why not me?”
“Apparently, the guy is a romantic, so maybe David didn’t want to set him up with someone only looking for a one-night stand.”
“And you’re any better?” He gives me a shrewd look over his cup. “Tell me the rejection wasn’t too painful.”
“There was no rejection.”
A spark fills Alfie’s blue eyes. “So you did hook up?”
“No.”
“But you want to?”
He’s never going to let it drop, so I give him the truth. “Did you see the guy? He’s gorgeous.”
“He is. A terrible dancer, but somehow, he still looked good doing it. I don’t get it.”
“It’s the sweetness factor.” And Finn is fucking sweet. And adorable. And yes, a terrible dancer, but the awkwardness made me even more interested.
Alfie wrinkles his nose. “I’m not sure I can do sweet.”
“Well, isn’t that lucky, because you’re not going to try.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
We’re locked in a stare-off for a moment before Alfie breaks it.
“You do know that forbidding me to hit on him only makes me want to hit on him more.”
“I know the feeling,” I mutter. But while this might be coming from a teeny tiny jealous part of me, it’s more than that. “Finn is a romantic. Which is why we both need to stay away from him.”
“You too?”
A flash of his goofy smile and wild hair and sweet eyes passes through my mind. “I’m sure as hell going to try.”
“Fine,” Alfie grumbles. “I’ll play your game if …”
“Yeah?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how desperately do you want to sleep with him?”
I sigh as my coffee is called. “If he was returning to Chicago, it would have happened already.”
Alfie releases an obnoxiously loud laugh as I stand up to grab my order. He might like to push my buttons, but I know that if Alfie senses there’s something between me and Finn, he’ll back off. He’s the kind of guy who never has an issue hooking up and doesn’t fixate on one person for long.
He’s a loyal friend, and that’s rare these days.
So when it comes to Finn, Alfie is one thing I don’t need to worry about.
Which is good, considering trying not to sleep with him and worrying about his weirdness today are taking up all my current brainpower.
Who knew being friends with a guy could be this complicated?