Chapter 3
Finn
Sam had seemed to understand what he meant without him needing to explain it to her.
She’d leaned against the bus stop bench as the sky grew lighter, staring up at the stars, and had told him that she was making a wish.
He did too. Even now he remembered wishing that they’d be together forever, because he was positive that there was no other way to be.
But instead of telling her that, he’d wound up spilling his dreams to her.
Telling her about how he needed to make money so that he could take care of his mom, how shattered he was since his dad had died, how he was crap at school, but everyone said he’d make bank if he kept skiing.
And since skiing seemed to be the only thing he was good at, it was clearly the right road for him to take.
She’d held his hand and then held him as he talked, her arms warm around his body, her head on his chest as if it was meant to always be there.
He remembered thinking how real and solid his love felt, and at the same time thinking that they were kids and too young to feel this way.
After all, seventeen was too young to know about love, wasn’t it?
Then he remembered her saying it so softly that it had felt like a dream.
“I like you, but I can’t have you.” Her voice had been so small. Her blush made her look even more beautiful.
“Sam …” He’d hesitated. Then the words had come out before he could’ve stopped them. “You can have me—but only for tonight.”
“What?” She’d shivered as he’d cupped her chin in his hand.
“We have tonight—let’s make it count. Tonight is ours.”
“Tonight is ours.” She’d echoed his words. “Tomorrow, we go back to normal.”
He’d nodded. “I can do that, I think. Sam, can I kiss you?”
That was when she’d reached for him; her hands, soft and warm, had cupped his face as she brushed his hair back from his forehead.
Her touch had sent shivers down his spine, and he’d leaned in slowly to kiss her.
The space between them had vanished as Sam leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
Softly at first, and then more purposefully as her hand had gently slipped around his neck.
Now, in the cold snowy streets of Livigno, he wondered if he’d change anything if he could go back to that moment.
It was a futile thought—he knew that—but he wished that he could kiss her again, take her hand and have it mean something more than friendship.
They did everything together, were everything to each other besides lovers.
Didn’t that count as something like love?
But even if he’d been able to change his actions, he wouldn’t have been able to change Sam’s.
Because, that night, in true Sam style, she’d pulled back from their kiss, breathless and only thinking of him. Laying her head back on his chest she’d sighed.
“You’d better get training hard,” she’d whispered into his chest. “You’ve a lot to lose if you don’t.”
“I know. I just wish it could be different.”
She’d looked up at him. “Don’t do that, Finn.
Don’t wish for that because then you’ll have to give up something.
And that something will be all of this.” She’d gestured to the mountains around them.
“Skiing is your way out—you are a star in the making, Finn Bradley. Don’t ever forget that.
And I won’t let you forget. I’ll be with you every step of the way. ”
“Promise?” he’d sniffed, his heart sore at the turn in their conversation.
“Yeah, promise.” He could still see the determination on her face as she kept talking. “You, no, we—the two of us—we need to put our careers first. When we’re at the top of our game, that’s when we can call the shots.”
He’d nodded. “I hear you, but I don’t want to.”
“You have to,” she’d said. “For now, at least. We can’t risk my dad walking away from training you, not now. You need him, Finn. He knows everyone, and I mean that. Everyone. You need his guidance and his connections first and foremost.”
“Urgh. I know—you’re right. It sucks.”
She’d laughed at his petulance. “It does, but hey, we won’t be kids forever.”
“No, we won’t.” He’d smiled at her. “All we have to do is take over the world.”
“One competition at a time.” Sam had nudged him. She’d offered her pinkie finger to him. “Promise me this: we put our careers first, friendship second, and we forget about this between us …”
Finn had wrapped his pinkie around hers for a moment. “Okay, I promise. We can revise the plan later.”
“When we win,” she’d said, clearing her throat. She’d pulled her hand away, then spat on it and stuck it out in front of her. “Shake on it.”
“When we win,” he’d agreed before taking her hand in his, spit and all. “But for now, I’d better get you home before your dad finds out the time.”
Every step toward her house had been leaden, heavy with time and lost love.
His stomach had tightened as they turned into her driveway.
There was no going back now. They’d made their agreement, and he had to stick by it.
It was the right thing to do. She’d be fine, no matter what.
Her dad would never walk away from training her, but Coach Harrington would drop Finn in a heartbeat if he thought there was something going on between them.
Looking down at Sam as they’d walked, he’d felt his heart break a little.
For some reason he’d had the awful feeling that he was lost to her now.
That this was the moment they should have fallen in love with each other, forever.
Yet it had passed, and it felt like he’d failed a test. Someone else would find Sam, and love her with all their heart—because why wouldn’t they?
She was amazing. As she’d slipped her key in the front door, she’d turned back to look at him.
“Thank you,” she’d said quietly. “I had a wonderful night.”
He’d simply turned and walked away, wondering if he’d made the right decision. Could he ever just be her friend—or had he lost her forever?
But again, Sam had challenged him. She’d kept their promise, and he’d had to endure the pleasure and absolute torment of being in her company more and more as they trained together under Coach Harrington’s watchful eye.
She’d taught him something though: there was nothing she wasn’t able to do once she’d set her mind on it.
And she’d kept her part of the bargain. Not once had she overstepped the boundary of friendship. It was driving him insane!
Their pact was six years old now and it felt like a lifetime.
A long and lonely lifetime. Hadn’t they’d grown up enough to possibly manage thinking of each other as more than friends?
Surely, she’d thought of him in compromising situations too?
He raised an eyebrow at Sam as she continued ranting.
He’d no idea what she’d just said but damn, she looked absolutely delicious.
What he wouldn’t give to have a taste of her.
“I wish you’d tell me what happened between you and Harper,” Sam said, her rant having moved on and away from Becky and the stolen sponsorship.
He knew she would quietly mull it over though and tear herself apart over the choices and decisions she’d made until she’d convinced herself that it was all her own fault.
She’d moved on to other topics because she was hurt and needed to think about it.
“You two seemed so … perfect together. You couldn’t keep your hands off her,” she continued.
“Ah, well,” Finn mumbled. “Yeah, I’ll tell you sometime. Not today.”
Not ever. He was never going to tell Sam why he couldn’t stay in a relationship with Harper—or with anyone—for more than a few months. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t tried.
And it was true. He’d been so hot for Harper—but that’s all they’d had between them—heat and lust. He’d tried to make it more, especially as Harper had let him know that she was ready for more.
But no matter how hard he tried to move beyond the lusty sex they’d had anywhere and everywhere, he just couldn’t move from sex to love.
His heart hadn’t been in it. In the end it had ruined everything.
His inability to commit to Harper, his constant desire to be with Sam, even if it was just on the slopes—well, it had the power to ruin everything.
A little voice in his head murmured: you’ve always been into Sam, but you just had to go make that “no falling for each other” pact all those years ago, didn’t you—and this is why you’re in this position now—standing in the snow, freezing your balls off with a raging boner for your best friend.
“Shut up!” Finn muttered right as Sam turned to face him. Incredulity swept over her face.
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing, just telling my inner demons to shut up.” Finn scrunched up his face. “I’d managed to forget I’d dated Harper and, well, the memory wasn’t great.”
“Oh, Finn. I’m sorry.” Sam slipped her arm through his. “Here I am ranting away when all this time she’s been here and you … are you doing all right?”
His jeans tightened and he tried to clear his mind as she squeezed his arm.
Damn, what if she realized he had a massive hard-on right now?
How the hell could he explain that? Her hands were cold, and she pressed against him, her breasts soft and warm on his arm.
Harper was a distant memory when Sam was around.
“It’s freezing,” he said as she shivered against him. “I’ll, eh, let me, um, I’ll get our jackets.”
“Jackets?” Sam frowned. “Don’t you think we should go back in?”
“Do you?” He turned the question back around. Please let her say no.