Page 99 of Rookie Attraction

“No, you win that one,” I admit.

“Me? You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve kissed a lot of people, Finn, and yes, you.”

“But I—” He stops and stares at me.

“I speak the truth.”

I lean over to make my point, but he puts a hand on my pec to stop me.

“We said no kissing or touching, Sel.”

I point to his chest. “You said, and I’m not the only one breaking the rule.”

He offers a wicked grin and torments my nipple with his thumb before removing his hand. When I look at his face, those damn dimples pop, and the sight makes my heart rate accelerate so fast I’m dizzy again. I ignore the growing bulge in my sweats, turn back to my plate, and shovel in the rest of my meal.

Hurry up and eat.

Once I’m done, I take the final sip of my coffee and pick up my empty plate.

“Leave it,” Finn offers.

“Okay, I’ll just, uh—” I point to the bedroom, flustered like I never am after spending the night with someone. Not that I often spend the whole night. “Grab my shirt.”

I scuttle off to his bedroom, throw on my T-shirt and running shoes, and hit the head. Glancing at the mirror, I startle at my punch-drunk expression. I splash cold water on my face and remind myself that I don’t want to say or do anything to ruin this morning.

When I make my way back out to the kitchen, Finn’s closing the dishwasher. I stalk up to him, slide one hand up his smooth back, and grab hold of his neck. I can feel his pulse jumping as fast as mine.

“I’ll see you at the rink in a couple of hours,” I murmur. “Just don’t smile at me with those killer dimples.”

“How about I give you dirty looks?” he turns his head. “You know, pick a fight, quash the rumor.”

We agreed no more touching, but fuck that. I can’t resist and kiss his neck.

“Don’t say the word dirty,” I plead. “And I’m not sure our teammates will buy it. I don’t believe you’ve ever had an argument in your life.”

“I have too, on the ice, and with my siblings. And I know just the thing to get me into character.”

“Oh really?”

“I’ll channel Damien.”

“That’ll work.” I smile. “We can work out our anger with each other.”

“Deal.” He leans in and gives me a languid kiss. “How about we ‘work out’ on Saturday?”

Then I remember about my PR plans. Shit.

“Rain check on that, I’ve got a date with Taylor,” I mutter. “Another charity gala.”

Finn tenses and reaches for his coffee, taking a long sip.

“It’s fake,” I remind him.

“I know.” He looks down at his phone and taps it. “You should get going. We have forty-five minutes before we need to leave for the rink.”

“Right. I’d offer you a lift, but⁠—”