Page 35 of Finn

Still, I wish I could feel her skin.

Chuckling, I say, “Hey, slow down. Like I said, I’m fine. I’m actually looking forward to dinner. In fact, I’m fucking starving right now.”

That makes her smile. “Good. I’m hungry too. I skipped lunch.”

“Perfect.” Moving my hand from her elbow to the small of her back and leading her to the exit, I say, “Let’s get out of here.”

Once we’re in my Escalade, I tell Sammie about an intimate Italian restaurant that I love. It’s a little north of Atlanta, and I know the owners there. I explain that not only will they treat us well, but we won’t run into a bunch of my teammates.

Sighing, I add, “We probably will if we stay here in the arena district.”

She’s fine with my suggestion, as I know she doesn’t want people I know to see us and ask questions.

Good, I want her all to myself anyway.

As we drive out of the parking garage, she shares, “I love, love, love Italian food. I can’t wait.”

I assure her, “This place has the best food. Everything is homemade.”

“Mmmm,” she murmurs. “Sounds fantastic, Finn.”

Since it’s kind of late, traffic is light on the highway and we reach the restaurant in what feels like no time.

After parking in a space right out front, I jump out of the Escalade and try to get over to the passenger side in time to open the door for Sammie.

But she beats me to it.

We’re just friends anyway,I remind myself.

Even so, I do make sure I open the door to the restaurant for her. Some things are just nonnegotiable. I’m still that kind of a guy—courteous.

The owners, an older married Italian couple named Lydia and Virgil, are at the hostess stand. As soon as they see me, their eyes light up.

They start asking me all about the game, and Lydia, gesturing to the cut on my cheek, inquires if I’m all right.

“I’m fine,” I assure her with a warm smile.

“Good.”

I’m about to introduce Sammie to her and Virgil, but she turns her attention to Sammie before I have a chance.

Smiling kindly, she asks, “And who is this pretty lady?”

Sammie, blushing, which is fucking adorable, replies, “I’m Sammie. I’m Finn’s friend.”

Eyeing us both like she knows more than we do, Lydia chuckles. “Friends, huh? Come on now. Are you sure? You two would make such a beautiful couple!”

She means no harm, but I think I’m blushing now too. My cheeks sure feel hot.

Sammie and I are quiet, and Virgil admonishes, “Now, Lydia, leave these two young people alone. I’m going to take them totheir table so they can eat and enjoy the night without you trying to play matchmaker.”

“Oh, Virgil,” she clucks, waving him off dismissively.

Sammie and I just smile at each other as Virgil steers us away to a private booth in the back of the restaurant.

As he hands us each a menu, he says, “I apologize for my wife. She’s a hopeless romantic.” Looking off into the distance, he muses, “That’s actually why I fell in love with her.”

I assure him there’s nothing to apologize for, since there isn’t, and Sammie chimes in and agrees.

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