Chapter 46 Beckett
Beckett
“Elsie!” Larsen yells as he tries to pull Finley into a bear hug. She stiff-arms him to the side of the face, laughing as he dodges out of the way and tries again.
“Dude,” Li groans.
“What?” Larsen asks. “I’m just excited she didn’t get fired.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you should hug her… like ever. It’s how we got into this mess.”
I meet Finley’s eyes and want to laugh at the mirth there.
Larsen shakes his head. “We did not get into this mess from hugging. I’m pretty sure they were fu—”
His eyes go wide as my fist makes contact with his stomach. “I think that’s enough of that. Don’t touch Finley.”
“Finley?!” Larsen says, his gaze darting between her face and mine.
Coach shakes her head. “Laps, Larsen.”
“It’s break!”
“You can’t call me Finley. You can call me Coach Blake.”
“Or…” Larsen leads.
“Coach Blake,” she deadpans, her humor hidden where only I can see it.
“Come on! I don’t think you understand how instrumental Li and I were in making sure you didn’t get fired.”
Li sighs, like he’s exhausted by Larsen’s existence. Which I understand. “I do not want to be included in this.”
“But you were such an important part of the team,” Larsen tells Li. “He was, Coach. Really.”
Finley folds her arms, amusement tugging at the corner of her lips, even as she tries to smother it. It’s the kind of expression that makes my brain short-circuit. Especially when I remember that I’m allowed to like it now.
“How did you even know I was back?” she asks.
Oh, fuck.
“Kane texted me,” Larsen boasts, the look on his face suggesting Finley might be an idiot for not putting that together.
“Kane… texted you?”
“Yeah. He texted Li and me as soon as he found out you weren’t getting fired. We’re friends like that.”
“Not right away,” I tell Finley, giving her a wink. God forbid she thinks I was texting Larsen while kissing her senseless on the couch.
“Holy fuck! Did you just see that, Li? Did you? He winked at her! And he still has his balls. Holy shit. Honestly, I still wasn’t completely sure any of this was real. I thought Kane might’ve been making it all up just to fuck with me. But it’s real!”
I look at Finley. “Is it, though?”
“Seems pretty far-fetched. Me? Date a player? Terrible decision.”
“Haha,” Larsen huffed as Li laughs next to him. “I know it’s real.”
“Okay.” I drag the word out like I’m unconvinced.
“Sure,” Finley replies, her neutral expression matching mine.
“I’m regretting all the exclamation points I used when I told the team chat that you weren’t fired. I want to take them back. You don’t deserve all of them. One at most. Okay, maybe two.”
Finley rubs her forehead. “Why are you texting the group chat about this, Larsen?”
“Because everyone was concerned that you were going to get fired. I let them know you weren’t. You know, those guys would literally die for you. I mean, did you know they’re the ones who told White to hire you? Like staged a coup or something.”
“Larsen!” Li groans, trying to cut his friend off.
“They, what?” Finley asks.
“Don’t really know,” Larsen muses. “Wasn’t here. But Li was.”
Li tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling like it might offer him guidance.
Finally, he says, “We just had a talk with White, put our names behind yours when they were deciding who to hire. They would’ve hired you even if we hadn’t said anything, but we heard what people were saying about men not wanting to be coached by a female.
And, well, we wanted to make sure we were clear that it wasn’t true.
You were the best. You made us better. That’s all we said. ”
“That’s…” Finley trails off, the indent in her right cheek appearing as she fights to keep her emotions from her face. But I can see them even if Li and Larsen can’t. Every ounce of appreciation and love, and a little guilt, too. They’re all there, pooling in her eyes.
“Don’t mention it,” Li warns. “Literally. The guys will make Larsen sleep on the ice or something if they hear he told you.”
Larsen runs his hand through his hair, a sheepish look on his face. “It’s just such a nice thing. I don’t know why I can’t tell her.”
“Please pretend you understand the concept of a secret,” Li urges.
“I do,” Larsen argues. “I just think it’s a dumb secret. I would want to know if the team said nice things about me.”
“They didn’t,” I say, choosing to jump in.
“Never,” Li agrees.
Finley lets out a sound that’s half laugh, half exhale, like she’s holding on to her composure by a thread.
“You guys are bullies; you know that, right?” Larsen accuses, pointing at each of us in turn.
Li sighs. “I regret everything.”
“That’s better.”
“No, that’s not…” Li trails off, apparently giving up on correcting Larsen. “You know what? I think it’s time to go. Let’s text Herrera and see if he wants to come play that new racing game.”
“Yes!” Larsen agrees. “Oo. Let’s just invite everyone over. You guys in?” he asks us.
“No,” Finley answers, though she smiles at the end.
“Ah, come on!”
“Maybe next time, Larsen,” I offer.
They disappear out the door, Larsen’s voice echoing, loud as ever as he says, “I’m telling the group chat she almost cried. It’s important. Character development.”
“Larsen,” Li groans, “I swear to God—”
Their voices fade, and suddenly it’s just us again, in the quiet.
“I can’t believe they did that,” she admits.
“They knew you were the best option.”
She swallows, and her gaze drops for a second, right to my chest, like she’s wondering whether she can ask for a hug or not.
I pull her into me, tucking her head under my chin.
“I don’t want them thinking I need—” she murmurs into my chest.
“Them to fight your battles,” I cut in gently. “I know.”
“I don’t.”
“They weren’t doing it for you, Fin. They were doing it for themselves.”
“I hope I didn’t let them down.”
“They’ll get over it,” I say. “Culture of accountability, and all that.”
“What a terrible idea, in hindsight,” she sighs.
“Nah.” I lean down to kiss her forehead. “I think it’s all going to turn out perfect.”