Chapter 6 Finn
Wren walks beside me with her hands shoved inside the sleeves of Kael’s hoodie, and I swear to God my heart does a stupid little flip.
Not because she’s wearing another man’s initials.
Not because she looks adorable drowning in fabric twice her size.
And definitely not because I’m imagining what she’d look like wearing one of my warmups instead.
Nope.
I am a professional athlete.
I have discipline.
Self-control.
...sometimes.
“You don’t have to walk me out,” she says as I push the door open for her.
“I know,” I tell her. “I’m doing it anyway.”
Cold night air rushes in—harbor wind carrying the sharp bite of winter and the distant honk of traffic. Her hair lifts with the breeze, brushing my forearm.
She shivers.
“You sure you’re warm enough?” I ask.
Her mouth twists. “Do you rehearse these lines, or—?”
“Nope.” I grin. “All-natural charm.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Not the polite kind.
The soft kind.
It hits me right in the chest.
We start across the parking lot, our steps echoing on cracked pavement. She stays close—not touching, but close enough that I feel her warmth through the cold.
For a moment, it’s quiet.
Then she asks, “Is Atlas okay? Earlier, he seemed...”
“Like Atlas?” I finish.
She gives me a look.
I sigh. “He’s complicated.”
“They all are.”
She says it under her breath, more to herself than to me, and my stomach does something weird.
She noticed us.
She sees us.
Not just the jerseys and the stats and the bullshit bravado.
She sees the fractures.
“Kael respects you,” I say suddenly.
She blinks. “What?”
“Back there? When he grabbed your wrist?” I shrug. “He doesn’t touch people. Like, ever. So for him to do that? And then back off when you looked at him? That’s him respecting you.”
Wren pauses beside a parked car, leaning against the cold metal. “It didn’t feel like respect. It felt like...”
“Intensity?” I offer, stepping closer.
Her eyes lift to mine.
Yeah.
Intensity.
“It’s not just him,” she whispers.
My chest tightens.
I lean one hand on the car beside her head, close enough to feel her breath but not close enough to scare her.
“Tell me what it felt like,” I say softly.
She swallows, eyes flicking over my face. “Like the three of you... shifted. Around me.”
“You did that,” I murmur. “You walked in and flipped the whole room upside down.”
She breathes out a shaky laugh. “Great. Just what I wanted to do on my first day.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I wet my lips. “Wren... I don’t think you know what you do to us.”
Her breath catches.
Fuck.
Too much.
Too fast.
Before I can make an even bigger idiot out of myself, she reaches out and touches the sleeve of my jacket—just a brush, quick, gentle.
It shuts me up instantly.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For walking me out.”
My throat goes tight. “Anytime.”
Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She checks it.
“Uber’s almost here,” she says.
I frown. “You don’t drive?”
“Long story.”
“Then I’m giving you rides from now on.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “That’s not—”
“I’m not asking.”
I step back just enough to swallow the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Text me when you’re home. I mean it.”
She hesitates.
Then nods.
Her Uber pulls up. She opens the door, then turns back, cheeks pink from the cold.
“Goodnight, Finn.”
I grin like a fool. “Night, Harper.”
She disappears into the car.
I stand there until the taillights fade.
And then—
A rough voice behind me: “You’re falling.”
I jump, spinning around. Atlas stands in the shadows near the building, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes dark.
“How long were you standing there?” I hiss.
“Long enough.”
“Eavesdropping is rude.”
Atlas shrugs. “So is drooling.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
I scowl. “You jealous?”
His jaw ticks. “You?”
I don’t answer.
Because, yeah.
I am.
He doesn’t answer either.
Because, yeah.
He is too.
A silence settles between us—not hostile, just... tight. Loaded.
“We’re in trouble,” I mutter.
Atlas huffs a humorless laugh. “No shit.”
I glance once more at the empty street.
Wren Harper is going to destroy us.
And God help me, I can’t wait.