Snatched

“You like it?” A familiar, sassy voice says. I spin around— it’s the bartender from Football House. He’s wearing a grin every bit as sly as Finn’s was, back on the field. His eyeliner is, as always, flawless.

“You did this?” Mandy asks. I’m not sure her jaw has closed since the moment we stepped out of the stadium.

The bartender shrugs. “I may have…stayed up all night at the print shop. But hey, I owed Finn one. He told off a douchey guy for me once that made fun of my eyeliner. And I sort of hate rowers.”

“Bradley is going to lose his mind,” I say. “And possibly any shot he’s ever had at sleeping with someone at Harton again.”

“That’s the idea,” Finn says— I whirl around, and see he’s behind me. There’s a crowd of admirers around him, calling his name, shouting for interviews, but it’s no use; he’s looking at me, and only me.

“You escaped the locker room fast,” I say, grinning.

“I couldn’t want to see you,” he whispers huskily. Mandy rolls her eyes beside me, like we’re grossing her out— but she’s smiling. Finn motions around. “I didn’t punch anyone.”

“This is going to be far longer lasting,” I answer. Finn reaches forward and takes my hand gingerly. A ripple of noise goes through the crowd. Even though we haven’t exactly been secretive about our relationship in the last week, doing this in front of a stadium’s worth of Harton fans is a level of “out” I’m not quite sure I’m ready for.

What will my mom say? She’s going to see clips of this on YouTube, if nothing else. Dr. Reams might even be watching it live, if that local news camera is still running. There won’t be able take back, any—

But before I can worry about any of that, Fin sweeps me toward him, kissing me deeply right there, in front of everyone. Because why keep a relationship this lovely a secret for a moment longer?

Epilogue

“Seriously? Over the bed?” I say, frowning.

“Where else would we put it?” Finn asks, holding the framed Hercules poster up. It’s not that the art isn’t amazing— it is, a piece done by a local artist that I got Finn for his birthday this spring. It’s just that in the frame, the thing weighs about four thousand pounds, and I’m not so sure about sleeping with it suspended directly above my face. I give Finn a wary look.

“Okay, okay, where do you want to hang it, then?” he asks, pulling the frame away from the king-sized mattress. I’ve never in my life had a king-sized bed, but moving in with Finn makes it more or less a necessity. The guy practically takes up a queen all on his own.

“Put it in the living room, where it can be appreciated,” Mandy says, stepping into the room and throwing down a wad of tangled bed linens. I’m fairly sure Mandy only offered to help us move in together because the freshman players did all the heavy lifting— which they did astonishingly quickly. The furniture is all here and unloaded, leaving me and Finn to casually unpack for the rest of the afternoon.

“Fine, fine,” Finn says, shaking his head good-naturedly, then carried the poster out of the room. Mandy watches him go, then grins at me.

“Are you so excited? Or are you starting to freak out?”

“About living with Finn?”

“About the internship, stupid,” Mandy says, shoving me. I laugh,

“I’m freaking out,” I say. Dr. Reams gave me a spot in the summer program, in the end. My mom told me to shove it back in his face, since it was pretty clear he offered me the spot not because I’m hyper-qualified, but because I’m dating Finn. I took it anyway, since it was too good an opportunity to pass up— and have big plans to take over the mathematical academia world to show guys like Dr. Reams where they can stick it. Success, after all, is even better revenge than a thousand flyers claiming you’ve got gonorrhea.

“Well, good luck tomorrow. Call me if something goes wrong,” Mandy says. “Dinner after you get out?”

“Yep,” I say, and hug her before she goes. I hear the door click shut behind her in the other room. It’s only a few moments before Finn re-appears, poster-less.

“You know, it’s probably for the best that the poster is in the living room,” Finn says. “I don’t know how I’d feel about you staring at a poster of a literal god while we’re having sex.”

“Afraid I’ll leave you, Greek myth style?” I ask teasingly.

“In Greece, it’s Heracles,” Finn says with faux-seriousness. I scowl, then stoop to grab a handful of the linens Mandy dropped, which I throw at him. He laughs and swats them away, then comes toward me. I stoop to try and defend myself with more bed sheets, but it’s no use; Finn grabs hold of me and in one easy effort, swings me onto the bed, holding me there with one arm.