Chapter 10
Vee
Pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at Fin, whose blue eyes were as round as saucers. While Grant’s volume didn’t require a speaker, I figured Fin should hear whatever my cousin was ranting about. I hit the speaker icon and laid the phone on the breakfast bar.
“Don’t lie to me, Vee,” Grant said. “Fin was in your building last evening.”
“The Vine is a public building.”
“Fucking Christ, you don’t think we have enough going on? Have you seen the Lexington Herald? They ran the story online late last night. It’s in today’s paper, and it’s been picked up all over the country.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a picture of Fin going up the elevator in your building, which for the record isn’t public if you go higher than the first floor. The picture and accompanying story have had over a million views on social media. Outlets are running it beside the story about Uncle Reid.”
“I haven’t seen anything,” I replied honestly.
Fin pushed his phone in front of me. My stomach dropped. There Fin was on the screen, wearing his old Cincinnati Reds ball cap. The caption below read:
Coopers’ starting quarterback helps football heiress grieve or is there more?
Griffin Graham was seen carrying an overnight bag and groceries up a private elevator that leads to Maeve Hubbard’s million-dollar condominium.
Is our favorite football sideline heiress getting extracurricular with her players?
What is happening now that Daddy is dead?
Grant was still ranting as the omelet and coffee churned in my stomach. “Fin came by my place to help me bypass the reporters,” I said. “This isn’t news. It’s tabloid gossip.”
“I’m in charge of communications. How the hell am I supposed to spin this?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t?”
“It’s sensationalism. We haven’t spoken to the press so they’re digging for a story where there isn’t one. Stick to our plan. I’ll be at the football center soon. I’m calling an executive meeting for ten this morning.”
“You’re rushing things with this takeover.”
“It’s not a takeover. The Coopers weren’t stolen nor was there a coup; they were thrust in my lap. I’m not going to let our tragedy take away from the season we started. Dad wanted a Super Bowl ring. I do too. I’ll see you at ten o’clock.” I hit the red icon and turned to Fin. “Shit. Just shit.”
“Now I remember someone calling my name. I looked up. I was wearing the fucking hat to keep a low profile.”
Inhaling, I stepped down from the stool and laid my hand on Fin’s thigh. “I don’t care about Grant or the story. People will believe what they want to believe. I’m not going to let this sidetrack—”
Fin’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. The name Jackson was on the screen.
“Your agent?”
He nodded. “He must have seen the sensational story.”
“I guess you could ask him if anything has changed now that…” There were too many ways to finish the sentence. “…things have changed.”
“Hey,” Fin said into his phone. “I just saw it.”
Kissing his cheek, I walked back toward the bedroom. I needed to brush my teeth and head over to Maker’s Mark. Fin was still on the phone with Jackson Blanch when I started to leave. As I reached for my keys, I remembered the reporters from last night. One of them took Fin’s picture.
I called down to the concierge’s desk. Jacob answered on the second ring. As soon as I told him my name, he offered to meet me on the seventh floor and get me straight to the garage. “I’m sorry to be a bother.”
“No bother, Ms. Hubbard.”
I disconnected our call as Fin disconnected his. “How did that conversation go?”
“A little different than yours. Jackson already knew about us.”
“What did he say about your contract?”
“He said he’d never had this situation before.”
I smiled, my lips curling. “Yeah, it’s a first for me too.”
“Me too,” Fin said as he came toward me. “Jackson said he’d investigate my contract, but due to the unlikelihood of such a situation, it probably isn’t addressed in the fine print.” His hands came to my hips, tugging me closer. “For the record, I’d give up playing before I gave you up.”
“Don’t say that. For one thing, the Coopers need you. For another, football has been your life. I don’t want anyone to give anything up.”
Fin kissed my nose before bringing his lips to mine.
My circulation warmed as his lips bruised mine.
Lifting my hands to his shoulders, I turned my head.
We were performing a choreographed dance.
It wasn’t a continuation of what we once had.
This was more. It was new with no walls between us.
Despite my new title, I wasn’t the one leading our dance.
Fin’s tongue teased my lips and willingly, I granted his entrance.
Coffee mixed with my fresh mint breath as I lifted my fingers to his dark hair, weaving my fingers through his uncombed locks.
By the time we pulled away from one another, my core was twisted and my nipples were hard.
Fin brought his nose to mine. “If you start to get sad or upset today, think about that kiss. Tonight won’t be our second no-sex night.”
“It won’t?” I asked with a grin.
He shook his head.
Pushing up on my tiptoes, I kissed him softly. “I’ll see you later. Jacob is probably waiting for me.”
“Let me slip on some shoes. I’ll go down with you and avoid the first floor. We don’t want my picture in the paper—the morning-after walk of shame.”
“Hurry up.” I shrieked as Fin’s hand landed on my ass with a slap. “Hey.”
His blue eyes shone and his grin quirked. “You’re getting a little too bossy. I thought I’d remind you who’s in charge.”
With my behind tingling, I met his gaze. “Yeah, maybe. I think I currently own you.”
“My contract.” He took long strides as he headed toward the bedroom.
I peeked outside the door as Jacob was coming down the hallway. “I’m sorry. We’re almost ready.”
“No problem, Ms. Hubbard.”
“Are there many reporters downstairs?” I asked.
“There are more people than usual, but I don’t know if they’re reporters.”
“Let’s go,” Fin said as he came toward us. Offering his hand, he approached Jacob. “I’m Griffin Graham; thank you for your help, Jacob.”
Jacob’s eyes opened wide. “You’re Fin Graham.”
“I am.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m certain,” I said, “you’ll keep our information confidential.”
“Yes, Ms. Hubbard.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting…” He turned toward the open door. “I’ll take you to the elevator.”
Fin grinned as he laid his hand in the small of my back. “He must not have an X account.”
“That makes one person.”