Chapter 10
Sam
Walking beside Finn, Sam swung her arms a little more energetically than usual, trying to shake off the strange surge of anxiety that flooded her body.
Between Finn holding her like that, and the crowd of fans snapping them, she wasn’t sure what to do.
She lowered her head. Should she reach for him?
Hold his hand? Link arms? Or would that attract attention to them again?
Attention that she felt ill prepared for.
Finn was walking fast through the snow and grit, as if he couldn’t wait to get away from the crowds.
She shoved her hands into her pockets. They walked quickly through the town, passing loud bars filled with music and people.
Everyone was cheering or dancing or having some sort of fun, but all she felt inside was fear and confusion as question after question formed in her mind.
What were they now? Friends? Fake-dating teammates?
Shower … associates? What!? Her brain spiraled, and Finn wasn’t helping.
He was a maddening step ahead of her, like he was avoiding matching her stride on purpose.
Sam frowned and tried to narrow the gap between them.
“Will you stop walking like we’re late for a race?” she muttered under her breath as his pace increased. Finn stopped walking and Sam caught up to him, kicking herself as a crease of worry formed between his eyebrows.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
“I know.” He rubbed his chin, his mouth stern. “Sam, we should talk—”
Sam didn’t get to hear what Finn was saying as a satsuma flash of chaotic energy barreled into her.
“There you are! Finally!” Maya threw an arm around each of them, drawing them closer and grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “Why do you two look like you’re heading for a breakup instead of the hottest bar in town? Come on! You guys are trending! You’ve got a job to do!”
Sam blinked. “We’re what?”
“Oh my God, haven’t you seen?” Maya steered them into a packed bar glowing with fairy lights, blasting tunes from the Nineties, and smelling like Christmas.
She flung her coat over a stool and whipped out her phone while still talking a mile a minute.
“The team loves you right now. The comments—the reposts—you two are melting the snow off the Alps.”
Sam glanced at Finn, catching his cheeks redden.
Maybe he was cold, or embarrassed, she couldn’t tell.
His face was otherwise pretty normal. Then he seemed to visibly relax in front of her very eyes.
His shoulders broadened, a hitch down from the stressed position they’d been in only moments ago.
His stance loosened, and his forehead smoothed out.
She felt her own body relax in response, and a smile formed on her lips.
Finn winked at her before turning to Maya.
“You’re kidding,” he said as Maya waved at the barman.
“Nope.” Maya handed him a shot that appeared as if by magic and then handed one to Sam. “Only one for you—you’ve got to be ready for the final tomorrow. Now come on—act natural—be charming. Make the people swoon!” Maya raised her phone like a director.
“Are you recording this?” Finn tried to see around the phone, but Maya leaned away from him.
“Of course,” she said. “It’s for the story—it’ll only be up for twenty-four hours. Don’t worry. Come on, Finn—I need to get this shot, and then get our girl to bed early. Just pretend you two are on Love Is Blind and have seen each other for the first time ever.”
“That’s playing dirty.” Finn laughed. He looked at Sam and waggled his eyebrows at her. “But I like it.”
Sam let out a strangled laugh, and then Finn, damn him, wrapped an arm around her waist. Sam gasped as he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Smile for the camera.”
Sam quivered as his arm tightened around her. It wasn’t fair how her body wanted to melt into his, or how his seemed to fit right into hers. Her breath hitched as he looked down at her, making her hope that this wasn’t fake at all—and for the moment she forgot that it was.
“Cheers!” Finn clinked his shot glass to hers, and she knocked it back in a blur of confusion, longing, and want.
“This is gold!” Maya cheered. “You two are pro at this—look—the chemistry—are you seeing this? Give me a minute. Just tagging the team here. There. Done.”
“You’re tagging them?” Finn paled. He let Sam go. His arm, warm and steady, slipped away from her, leaving a chill behind as if a gust of wind had come through the bar. She watched, heart sinking as he took her empty glass and set it on the table right next to them.
“Don’t worry—I’m not tagging Coach,” Maya said quietly to him. She waved her hand and nudged Sam. “You should see the comments, the reposts—and you should have seen the team earlier today—they were practically high-fiving over the analytics. You guys are gold-medal marketing right now.”
Finn’s mouth opened, then closed again.
Sam tried to process it. Wait—Coach isn’t being tagged?
Her stomach twisted. Since when did Maya start filtering posts for his sake?
And why did Finn look like it meant something more?
What did this mean for their fake-dating-get-a-sponsorship plan?
“Are you saying … the team are okay with this?” She gestured at Finn and herself.
Maya shrugged. “Not officially but also not unofficially. I’ve been told to milk it for all it’s worth.
Don’t take offence to that though—it’s great for all of us.
It’s getting people talking, and getting you noticed by all the right people.
Now come on—give me one more shot—and make it look as if you want to jump each other’s bones. ”
Finn choked. “Maya—”
Sam let out a breath—half laugh and half what even is my life now.
But Maya was right. It was brilliant that the team was on their side.
It made it feel like it was real—and not fake.
Finn was smiling at her now, and for a minute he looked just as dazed as she felt, like the world had shifted into a new timeline, one where they were together and where everyone was happy about it.
Then Finn slipped his arm around her waist again and leaned in like it was the most natural thing in the world, and her breath quickened.
Her hand reached for him before she could stop herself and rested on his chest.
Maya gave a victorious squeal and snapped the photo. “God. You two are addictive.”
Finn didn’t move away from her; his thumb caressed her lower back as she trembled in his arms.
Sam raised her face to Finn. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He grinned. “Doing my best for the camera—right?”
For the camera. His words thudded in her chest as he moved away from her.
The bar suddenly got louder as someone climbed up on the bar and began dancing as if they were auditioning for a part in Coyote Ugly.
It wasn’t long before someone else joined them and then another shot was in Sam’s hand.
With a laugh of disbelief, Sam looked around, slightly stunned to see how crazy the crowd was.
It was almost a physical enactment of what she imagined was going on in her brain right now.
Her thoughts were all over the place, on her sport, her father, and most of all, on Finn and how he’d just said: “… for the camera—right?” so calmly, because she wasn’t calm at all.
Someone bumped into her, and she staggered against the barstool, grasping the bar to steady herself. Her eyes flickered around the room. Everything was loud, too bright, and beating way too fast, but her heart, it felt as if it was slowing down.
“Sam?” Finn called her. He dipped his head to speak in her ear again. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” She took a breath, her heart hammering. “I just didn’t think pretending would feel so real.”
Finn’s smile faltered, just for a second. His eyes dropped from hers, like the weight of something unsaid pulled at him. When he looked back up, the light in them had dimmed slightly, and his jaw tensed—like he wanted to speak but couldn’t.
“Same,” he said. Then after a beat: “But we’re still pretending, right?”
Sam downed her second shot. She didn’t answer him, not because she didn’t want to, but because Maya was taking the shot glass from her and reprimanding her for drinking before a final.
“Girl—what are you doing? I said just one!” Maya gave her a pointed look. “Final tomorrow. Remember that little thing—the actual reason why we’re here.”
“Urgh, you’re so right.” Sam relinquished her shot glass although all she wanted to do was to have it refilled immediately.
How could Finn be so cool? She really wanted to talk to him, to clear up what they were playing so dangerously at.
She zipped up her jacket and touched his arm softly. “You coming?”
Finn hesitated, then shook his head. “I think I’ll stick around for a bit. If you’re okay with that?”
“Sure, of course.” Sam nodded; a flicker of sadness flared inside her. She really wanted to talk to him, to try figure out what they were now. Something between them had shifted, and she needed to talk to him, her best friend, about it.
Just as she turned away, Finn reached for her hand. She looked back, startled—and then he stepped in, close, one arm pulling her to him, his other hand gently under her chin, tilting her face to his as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice barely above the music. “Go to bed, rest, and have sweet dreams.”
Before she could reply, he leaned down and kissed her, a soft gentle brush against her lips.
It was simple, natural, and it lingered long enough for her to touch his face, her thoughts scrambling as he smiled against her mouth.
Her heart twisted as she pulled away slowly, her eyes searching his face for some clue as to what he was thinking—no—feeling.
But Finn just smiled, soft and unreadable.
“Night, Sam.”