Chapter Six

Finn

W hen I walked into the kitchen and saw Chessly standing there, my heart almost pounded out of my chest. Just seeing that girl did weird things to my insides. From the look on her face, the feeling wasn't mutual, and I didn't have a fucking clue how to fix that. All I knew was that I needed a do-over, and this was my first chance at one in the two weeks since we met and hit it off—until I somehow fucked up.

As usual, my timing wasn't awesome, what with me asking for a private conversation in a room full of people, but I never saw her anywhere around campus where I could maybe ask for a few minutes without an audience.

Nodding toward the doorway into the living room, I said, "Let's go somewhere less crowded."

Callahan snorted even as Chessly lifted a skeptical brow. With the heaving crowd in the living room, I understood the irony of my suggestion. But we weren't headed to there.

"Trust me. Please." I dropped what I hoped was a smile and not a grimace.

That skeptical expression remained, but all the same Chessly followed me out of the kitchen. I skirted the dancers taking up the middle of the living room, which was a feat in itself as we wound our way past people drinking, laughing, and making out on the couches and chairs my roommates and I had shoved against the walls. When we reached the foyer, I asked, "Do you have a jacket?"

"I left it in Saylor's car."

"No worries." Reaching into the closet, I pulled out one of my hoodies and handed it to her.

She eyed it narrowly before at last reaching for it and pulling it over her head. It covered her like a blanket, hanging almost to her knees. Hot damn, she looked adorable. I couldn't help how much I liked seeing her in my clothes.

We headed out to the porch where I gestured for her to take the lawn chair in the corner. Leaning against the rail, I gathered my thoughts, most of which were about how damn lucky I was to have another shot at talking to her.

"You had something to say...?" she prompted.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Yeah." God, she was so pretty. Before meeting her, I would have said eyes so blue only existed in fairy tales. Her perfect rosy lips were plump and inviting, even in this moment when they were slightly pursed. Especially when she pursed them. Her heart-shaped face came to a shallow dimple in her chin. I had an overwhelming urge to run my tongue over that dimple, but I also had the good sense to know she wouldn't welcome that.

She made the "go on" gesture with her hand, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as though she had a clue about what was going through my head.

I clapped my palm over the back of my neck then scratched the back of my head. "The thing is, I thought when I drove you home after Homecoming that we were connecting. I mean, science nerds, right?" When she gave me nothing, I said, "I thought I was being subtle about taking the long way, but maybe I offended you?"

Busying herself with rolling the sleeves up on my hoodie, exposing her delicate hands, she took her time answering. "That wasn't the problem." She caught my eye. "It was your friends." Seeming to catch herself, she hurried on. "Which is none of my business. You have a right to be friends with whoever you want." When she plucked at the hem of my hoodie, I relaxed. Guess both of us were a little nervous. "But I can't understand what you see in someone like Tory Miller."

"She always seems to be around, you know?"

That brow went up again, and I gripped the porch railing hard enough to leave marks.

"Not really. Maybe you could explain it to me." Though her voice remained steady, I didn't miss the way she white-knuckle gripped the hem of my hoodie where it rested above her knees.

Guess Tory Miller made both of us tense.

"We're not really friends. She's more interested in Callahan than anything."

Her lips thinned. "And that bothers you, huh?"

Putting my hands up to slow down where her train of thought was headed, I yelped, "No!" Clearing my throat, I added with what I hoped was some calm in my tone, "What I mean is that Tory hangs around Bax and me because she hopes we'll hook her up with Callahan." Glancing in the direction of the house, I smirked. "But it's pretty obvious where 'Han's interest is, so I think she's shit out of luck."

Something sad flitted over Chessly's features. "Depends on how bad she wants him."

"What's the deal with you and her? I figured out pretty quick that night she doesn't like you either."

Her gaze slid out to the front yard. "My job is to make sure people follow the rules so everyone can live together in some sort of compatibility. Tory believes the rules don't apply to her. At. All." Her eyes found mine. "The girl goes out of her way to make trouble wherever she goes." Someone opened the door, and loud music and laughter almost drowned out her next words. "I almost lost my job because of her."

I stood straighter. "Come again? Did you say she almost cost you your job? Your RA job?"

"Yes."

Shaking my head, I said, "I thought she didn't live in the dorms."

"She doesn't anymore. But when she was a freshman, she lived on my floor. It didn't take her long to figure out I had her number."

Pulling my brows together, I inclined my head toward her. "What's her number?"

A tiny grin tipped up the corner of Chessly's mouth. "Spoiled rich girl who thinks her daddy's money can buy her out of any trouble she manages to get herself into."

I blew out a breath. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

Chessly crossed her arms over her chest. "Yet you hang out with her anyway."

"Not recently."

Her brows tried to meet her hairline.

"Sometimes it's easy to get caught up in the flattery, you know? When cute girls keep telling you how much they love to watch you play, it strokes the ol' ego." I blew out a breath. "Guess I needed a reminder about staying humble. Bax and 'Han have been riding me pretty hard about staying away from her and her little band of freshmen." I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck again. "So I've been making a point of studying in the science building instead of the library and being too busy to answer her texts."

"Huh. You gave her your number."

The disgust in her tone had me scrambling not to lose her. "Not one of my better decisions. My friends accuse me on the regular of being clueless about women." I kicked the heel of one foot against the toe of the other. "They might be right sometimes." I stared directly into those eyes I wanted to drown in. "But I'd like a chance to figure you out."

She drew her pretty legs up inside my sweatshirt, resting her heels on the edge of the chair. "Here's your first clue. I'm a woman, not a puzzle."

A laugh snorted out. "Chessly, all women are puzzles to me." Noticing the way she hugged her knees to her chest, I said, "But I think I've figured out that even when wearing my hoodie, you're cold."

"A bit."

"I could sit in the chair and you could have my lap, share body heat while we talk," I offered.

For a second she hesitated, and hope flashed through me that my silly gambit might have actually worked.

Then she shot me down. "This is okay."

Yeah, sometimes I misread the play. But I never stop working. "If you change your mind, the offer stands."

With a smirk, she said, "I'll remember that."

"What did you think of the game?" Of course, what I was truly asking was What did you think of my play in the game?

"The Wildcats are fun to watch. Definitely a draw for recruiting people to attend Mountain State." The twinkle in her eyes told me she was messing with me. "Those sacks you had today were impressive."

At her praise, I might have puffed up some. "Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed them. They're the second most fun play to make."

"What's the most fun play to make?"

"Forcing and recovering a fumble." I grinned. "Let me amend that. A strip sack where I recover the fumble is the most fun play."

"You like being a superhero, huh?"

Shrugging, I smiled at her. "What can I say? I like making life hard for the quarterback. It's what they pay me the big bucks for."

She rested her chin on her knees. "Do you have to be on scholarship to be a starter?"

"No. But usually the guys who earn scholarships are starter caliber when they show up to play. Some guys, like my roommate Danny Chambers, are walk-ons who earn their scholarships by their work in practice that elevates them on game day."

"He's on scholarship too?"

"Not yet, but if he keeps catching everything Patty throws at him the way he has been, I have no doubt Coach will find some money for him."

"What about your other roommates?"

For once I thought first and talked second, toning down my pride in my buddies and me by softening my voice and showing some humility. "Yeah, we all worked hard in high school and keep challenging each other every day in practice."

"Must be tough to do well in school when you put in all that time for football," she mused.

That comment forced me to show off. "We have a standing academic competition in this house."

"Yeah?" She grinned.

"Anyone who finishes a semester with less than a 3.5 GPA has to do everyone else's laundry for the next semester. So far we're all still doing our own."

"Now that's impressive. Yet you have the energy to throw ragers after you win games. Who cleans up afterward?" She dropped her feet back to the deck and hugged her arms around herself.

"We take turns. This week is 'Han's turn. Which is probably why he's hanging out in the kitchen making sure Fitz doesn't overserve anyone." Nodding toward where she rubbed her hands over her upper arms, I said, "You look like you need to warm up." Smiling, I added, "My offer to share the chair is still on the table."

With an answering smile that gave me a shot of adrenaline, she opened her mouth to say something, but a commotion erupted in the foyer and spilled out onto the porch.

In football, especially on defense, timing is everything. If someone even so much as twitches before the center hikes the ball, the refs will call something. If the guy who moved early is on the offense, the refs will call a false start. If the guy moving is on defense, the refs will call offsides. Unfortunately, the refs call me for offsides at least once a game.

Take the night we met. Things with Chessly were moving in the right direction...but then Tory Miller showed up. One look at who was behind all that caterwauling assaulting our conversation told me my plans for the rest of the evening were in serious jeopardy.

"Finn said we could come. You can't kick us out just because that bitch Jamaica Winslow is here!" Tory screeched as Johnny Henderson, our buddy from the wrestling team, bounced her and her friends from the party.

Spying me across the porch, Tory switched up her tactics. "Finn! Tell this Neanderthal you invited us." She took two steps in my direction and caught sight of Chessly seated on the lawn chair. "You! What are you doing here? You have no business here!" Planting her hands on her hips, she added, "These aren't your people."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Throwing a tantrum as usual, huh, Tory? You're kind of a slow learner." Chessly's modulated voice contrasted Tory's strident tones, inviting me to move closer to Chess.

"Finn! You can't be serious. This person"—she wrinkled her nose as she nodded at Chessly—"is so far beneath you." Glancing around at where we were, she added, "And no fun at all. I mean, she's dragged you away from your own party."

"Tory, you need to go before the neighbors complain."

Out of the corner of my eye, I clocked the subtle shake of Chessly's pretty blonde head, and I figured out my mistake at about the same time as Tory lit into me at the top of her voice.

"What is wrong with you, Finn McCabe? Have you completely lost your mind?" she shouted.

Johnny stepped out the front door. "Everything all right here, Finn? Need some help?"

Before I could open my mouth, Chessly said, "I think I'll head inside, warm up, maybe grab another beer." She aimed that last part directly at Tory.

When it came to women, I might be a little slow on the uptake, but even I could figure out Chessly taunted Tory with her parting comment.

Gracefully, she stood and walked purposefully toward Johnny who was standing in the open front door to the house. Tory stood between Chessly and her destination, and a flash of disaster lit up my brain. Before the two women had the chance to face off, I stepped between them.

"I'll join you."

Chessly glanced over her shoulder, her expression hard to read with the porch light behind her, shadowing her face. "You don't have to."

"That's right, Finn. You don't have to spend time with white trash from the middle-of-nowhere Montana." Twirling a long curl falling over her shoulder, Tory's whole demeanor changed. "You can stay out here with us. I'm sure we can keep you entertained."

The faces of the little troupe of girls standing behind her ranged from worried to speculative. All of them made me nervous.

Sensing the trouble brewing, I gave Tory a smile. "That's a nice offer, but I've been out here for a while. I could use a warm-up and maybe another beer."

I breathed a sigh of relief when Tory and her girls slid sideways to let Chessly and me pass, but I should have known her stand-down from the impending catfight was only a ruse.

Following so closely behind me she almost gave me a flat tire, Tory said, "Since you're going back inside, you can tell your bouncer guy yourself that you invited us."

Ahead of me Chessly gave a snort and kept walking through the door and into the foyer past Johnny, who nodded at her before facing me, his eyebrows pulled together. Sucking in air, I turned and used my size with my forearms on the frame to stop Tory in the doorway.

"Here's the thing, ladies. I'm not the only one who lives here. The other guys insisted on no one under twenty-one." Lifting my hands in a "what can I do?" gesture, I willed them to understand and not push.

Tory's narrow-eyed glare gave me the sense Bax and Callahan knew what they were talking about when it came to the girls who had a thing for football players. "It's not cool to go back on your invite, Finn."

"Like I said, my roommates didn't give me a choice. We're all on scholarship, so we have to follow the rules." I ran my hand over my head and tossed some frat buddies under the bus. "I heard there's a pretty good party going over at the ADRs tonight. Those guys never have bouncers." I winked.

A couple of the girls stepped back, whispering to each other. Tory stayed right where she was.

"We want to party here. With you."

"I'm sorry, but that's not gonna happen. Not tonight." Tossing a glance over my shoulder, I saw Chessly had disappeared to somewhere else in the house. I couldn't do triage in two places at once, so I decided to cut my losses. "See you around, Tory. Ladies." With a salute, I stepped back and shut the door, turning the lock on the handle.

Outside, Tory started screeching again. "Finn McCabe! You can't be serious. You unlock this door right this minute!" She followed that with pounding and maybe some temper-tantrum foot-stomping.

"Under no circumstances do those girls come back inside. Got it?" I said to Johnny.

"Oh, yeah." He shot me wide eyes. "Glad they aren't wrestling groupies. Sheesh, what a nightmare."

Yeah, I was starting to figure that out too.

"Thanks, man."

Touring the living room, I didn't catch sight of Chessly's golden-blonde head, so I headed into the kitchen. Fitz was still manning the keg and still had Chessly's friend's attention, but other than the two of them and a couple of people waiting in line for beer, no one else was there.

"Have you seen Chessly?" I asked Fitz and Saylor.

"She was here a few minutes ago. Said something about needing a ride home." Tilting her head, Saylor said, "I thought maybe you had that covered."

"I do, if I can find her."

"Maybe she's in the bathroom," she suggested.

Spinning on my heel, I headed through the living room and down the hallway behind the stairs. Knocking on the bathroom door, I called, "Chessly? You in there?"

A thump against the door, followed by a feminine giggle and low male laughter answered me. Still, I knocked again. "Chessly?"

"No Chessly in here, man," the male voice said.

Shit . Where could she have gone?

Making my way back through the party in full swing in the living room, I slipped into the dining room. Chessly didn't come across as someone who participated in flip-cup, but then again, I didn't know her all that well—yet.

When I didn't find her in the dining room either, I headed back out to the foyer as a bad feeling snaked through my insides. Johnny confirmed it.

Chessly had left the party.