“Good,” she says, reaching for his waist. “Kiss for luck?”
Finn’s eyebrow lifts, and he quickly glances back at me before sliding his arms around Kenley’s back. I’m taken back to the day in the little cottage when she told us she wanted to date all three of us. Watching her kiss Ozzy and Finn had been a thrill. Seeing her and Holloway kiss now?
Fucking hot.
His jaw tenses and her pink tongue licks against his. His hands dip beneath the hem of her shirt, and my stomach burns at the memory of her body underneath mine. When they part, her eyes flick to mine and the small smile on her mouth lets me know I’m less spectator and more of a quiet participant. I can wait my turn.
Finn releases her, his eyes slightly glazed. She walks over to me and twists my shirt in her fingers. I brush her hair back over her shoulder and say, “I’m really sorry about the other night.”
“Not a big deal. Embarrassing? Yes. End of the world? No.”
God, she’s incredible.
“Go out there tonight and show your dad that you’ve got this, okay?”
My chest warms. “Okay.”
“And if he acts like a dick, know that I’ll be in the stands cheering you on. Me and Ozzy, okay?”
I smile. Any girl that calls my father a dick is a fucking keeper. “Got it.”
She laughs and pushes up on her toes. I wrap my arms around her and lift her up, raising her up to meet me. Her mouth is hot, her tongue quick, bolts of lightning shoot under my skin. I’m already ramped up for the game, but this? This is next level. As much as I want to keep kissing her I know we’ve got a game to get to and reluctantly lower her back to the ground.
“If that’s what we get for luck, what happens if we win the game?” I ask, squeezing her fingers.
Her eyebrow raises. “You win the game and come find me after. I’ll be more than happy to congratulate you.”
Jesus. Under that sweet little façade is a dirty girl threatening to come out.
“See you after the game.” Finn winks and pushes the cafeteria door open.
“Thanks, babe.”
“Good luck.” She waves, and we walk through the door.
The cafeteria is empty, other than a few Booster members cleaning up. Monica Chandler smiles as we pass by. Once we’re out the other door, I look at Finn and say, “How the hell did we ever let that girl slip through our fingers?”
“I don’t know, man,” he says, shaking his head, “but I’m damn sure glad we got her back."
Thirty minutes later, I tug my football pants up and lace them at the waist. Finn rummages through his locker, dropping his gloves, socks, and jersey on the bench.
“Ez,” Finn says, shutting his locker door. “Can you help me wrap my shoulder?”
“Sure.” I follow him toward the training room.
We pass by the Coach’s office and he calls out, “Finn, I need you for a minute.”
I wait outside, between the office and the training room. Jen’s inside wrapping Carlos’ ankle. Coach Chandler’s voice carries.
“How are you feeling?” he asks Finn.
“Good. Strong. My shoulder isn’t bothering me.”
“Excellent. I feel like you’re prepared.”
“Yep, me, too.”
“I want to make sure that you’re 110% mentally and physically. If there’s anything bothering you, tell me now so we can free your mind. Girls. Fears. Injuries.”