Heartthrob

by Robin Bielman

  “And you’ll see, I will not be meeting my soul mate.” Because she’s standing right in front of you. Are you really going to let her go in a couple months?

  Yes, I am. Because baseball is my life. I can’t split my devotion. And Chloe deserves someone who will give her 100 percent all of the time. Right? My teammate, Mike, and his wife are blissfully happy. Their toddler is adorable. Mike’s got it all, and neither his career nor personal life have suffered. But that doesn’t mean the same would hold true for me.

  Chloe gently shakes her head. “I don’t think—”

  I squeeze her hand. “Don’t think. Just be with me. Have you ever casually dated?”

  She thinks about that. “No, actually.”

  “So, let’s give it a try. We’re two mature adults. We can keep feelings other than friendship out of it.”

  “There’s a name for this, you know. Friends with benefits. And I’m not sure I’m wired that way.” She pulls her hand free. “My heart’s been hurt too many times, Finn. I can’t risk it again.”

  “I won’t hurt you, I promise. That’s why we’re talking it through. Complete transparency.” I cup her cheek. “If anything, you hold the power here, Chloe. I made it clear from the start I wanted to hang out with you. But if you really want to keep things strictly platonic, I’ll abide by your wish.” I was already fortunate enough to have spent three nights with her rather than the one she proposed.

  “Is it me you don’t trust or yourself?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything. I’m pushing my luck, but I do so because I know she feels something for me. It’s been communicated in her words, her body’s response to mine, and in her everyday actions.

  She swallows, the column of her neck giving away her apprehension. “Both.”

  Her honesty is a relief and a burden. Maybe she’s stopped to think this through longer than I have, or maybe she hasn’t, but either way, I can’t let go of the chemistry between us.

  “We have a wedding this weekend.”

  “Yes.”

  “And a long list of social media content to get across in the next two months, which means we’ll continue seeing a lot of each other.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got this thing at the end of the month I need a plus-one for.”

  She frowns. “Oh-kay?”

  “Probably something next month, too.”

  “So, you’re saying I’m easy?” She arches her brows and crosses her arms over her chest. It’s damn cute.

  “I’m saying this works. I’m saying you put the ‘awe’ in awesome. I’m saying I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve got baseball records to break and a team I want to help get to the World Series again, and you’re not looking for a relationship either, but we do like being together, so this is the perfect arrangement.” I take her face in my hands. “Now please tell me I can kiss you before I lose my mind.”

  “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “I steer this boat.”

  “Done,” I say, before I devour her mouth, feeling so much more than I can ever tell her for fear she’ll abandon ship.

  Chapter Nineteen

  #FiftyShadesOfFinn

  Chloe

  There are moments in your life that are surreal and tonight is one of mine. My very best friend and her new husband are standing on stage at their wedding reception and singing a love song to each other. Robert is strumming along on his guitar while Jillian serenades him—and all their guests—at the mic. I’m standing on the middle of the dance floor with other members of the bridal party swaying to the romantic lyrics while tucked inside Finn’s arms.

  My back is to his chest. My head leans on his shoulder. His lips graze my ear, and every time they do he whispers how beautiful I am, how sweet I smell, how incredible I feel, filling my head with dizzying delight. He’s been extremely attentive all evening, his hand on my lower back, around my waist, and his fingers laced with mine under the table. We’ve kissed when no one’s looking. We’ve laughed when someone says something funny. (Robert’s family is a bunch of comedians. Literally.) We’ve stolen glances at each other too many times to count.

  Wrapped up in Finn right now is equivalent to a warm bath that leaves your skin silky soft and smooth, your body light, and your mind serene.

  In mine and Finn’s movie, this would be the moment when everything changed. When I stopped fighting my feelings for him and put off thinking about our precarious future until some distant time.

  Up on stage, Robert and Jillian look into each other’s eyes, sing the last verse of the song together, and then kiss. The crowd applauds like crazy and hollers compliments. I put my pinkie fingers in the corners of my mouth and give a high-pitched whistle, so happy for my best friend. The entire wedding has been flawless.

  Once the accolades die down, the bandleader speaks into the mic. “Chloe Conrad, you’re up!”

  What? I look left, then right, like there must be some mistake. What am I up for?

  “It’s karaoke time!” Jillian shouts, while a member of the band wheels out a karaoke machine.

  Oh no. No way, Jose. I am not singing. Jillian knows I suck at singing, but she’s always said one of her favorite memories of the two of us was at a karaoke bar right after she met Robert. She wanted to impress him (because she has an amazing voice) and being the best friend that I am I went up on stage with her because she was super nervous. The two of us sang “Lean on Me.”

  Correction: she sang while I chirruped the words and plotted ways to get even with her.

  “Get up here, best maid of honor ever!”

  I hold my ground and shake my head, withdrawing into Finn like maybe his size will hide me from the spotlight.

  “Hey,” he whispers against my temple, “what can I do?”

  “Pretend you’re me.”

  “I can’t exactly do that, but how about I go up there with you?”

  I spin around in his arms. God, even after several hours in his tux, he still smells delicious. “You’d go up there and sing with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Can you sing?”

  “How about you find out?” He kisses me right on the mouth. Right in front of everyone. And I mean everyone, since the entire room is looking at me. This includes my dad, who flew in just for the wedding. If he’d been wondering about my relationship with Finn, he isn’t any longer.

  “Okay.” I spin around and march up to the stage, Finn right behind me. “It’s a duet or nothing,” I say to Jillian.

  She laughs and waves Finn and me up. “I love you, Chlo. And I know the perfect song for you two.” She speaks to the band member finishing with the karaoke machine—a big blue screen for lyrics atop a large black boom box, for lack of a better description. The rest of the band steps off the stage for a break.

  “We’re good to go,” the band guy says.

  “Have fun!” Jillian gives me a quick hug before she and Robert step off the stage. They stand front and center on the dance floor, ready to watch the Chloe and Finn Show.

  It’s not that I’m shy. And it doesn’t bother me to stand in front of an audience. My problem is I only like to do things I’m good at. I get that karaoke doesn’t require a good singing voice and is about fun more than anything else, but that doesn’t make this any easier. To make matters worse, the videographer has his camera poised to immortalize the entire performance.

  “I’ve got you,” Finn says, bringing my attention to him. “We’ve got this.”

  The band guy hands a microphone to me and one to Finn. “Push this button here when you’re ready.” He points to a big round silver button. “Adjust the volume here.” His hand moves to a large dial. “I’ll get you started to make sure everything is working.”

  It’s then that I notice the song on the blue screen. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” by Elton John. I dart a glance down to Jillian. She gives me two thumbs-up.

  “Ready?” Finn asks. He took off his tuxedo jacket some ti
me ago and his white dress shirt molds to his chest and biceps. The top two buttons are open, sexy as sin. I guess if I’m going to be humiliated, there’s no one better to have by my side. Everyone—even the men—will be watching the handsome pro baseball player from a famous family rather than me.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I say.

  The music starts, loud and clear through the stage speakers. Every muscle in my body stiffens. Finn, though? He’s loose, his arms swinging slightly in time with the beat. I imagine being on a baseball field with fifty thousand fans watching you and hoping you hit a home run makes this a piece of cake. He smiles at me, his eyes sparkling, and my body responds. Relaxes.

  He sings the first verse and holy mother trucker. Is there nothing this man can’t do? He nods to the screen. Oh yeah, it’s my turn. I sing the next verse. He grins at me like I’ve got a boat-ton of Grammy awards sitting on a shelf at home. I relax further.

  We go back and forth, and before I know it, we’re gesturing to go along with the lyrics, eyes locked on one another. Then Finn puts his arm around me and together we belt out, “Who-who!” And the crowd goes wild. At least I think they do. I’m so in tune with Finn, mesmerized by his talented voice and grateful he’s up here with me, that everyone else in the room falls away.

  Finn holds his mic in front of me to sing into.

  I hold my mic in front of him.

  We follow the prompts on the screen, singing our own lines and collaborating on the refrain. I forget that I can’t sing. My voice grows louder, stronger. Who cares if I can’t carry a tune? This is so fun I may want to sing another song.

  Finn and I get totally into it. Our hips swing, our arms. He gestures to his heart. I put my thumbs and index fingers together to make a heart shape. We are rocking this song like we’ve sung it together a million times. In my head, anyway.

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m sad when the song comes to an end. Finn and I take a bow to a massive round of applause.

  Jillian is the first to greet us when we step down from the stage. “That was fantastic!” She gives me a hug. “Thanks for being a good sport.”

  “Of course.” I’d swim through piranha-infested waters for her and she knows it. Wait until I get you back at my wedding, though. Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

  Finn and I accept compliments and praise as we walk toward our table holding hands. His warm, slightly callused fingers make me feel good all the way to my toes.

  “Nice job, you two,” my dad says stopping us midstride. He takes a quick glimpse at our hands, keeps his expression neutral.

  “Thanks, Dad. It turned out to be a lot of fun.”

  “I’m glad. And you didn’t sound half bad.”

  “It helps when paired with someone who can sing.”

  “I’m sure,” Dad says. “I came over to say goodbye. I’ve got a plane to catch so I’m leaving now.” He reaches out to shake Finn’s hand. “Finn, good to see you again. Thanks for watching out for my daughter.”

  “My pleasure,” Finn says. “She’s watching out for me, too.”

  “I’ve no doubt. Mind if I borrow her for a minute?”

  “Not at all. Have a safe trip.” Finn lets me go, and my dad and I step away.

  “I bought you a plane ticket for Christmas,” he says. “I’ll email you the itinerary. Your aunt’s healing slower than we’d like so I’ll be staying with her until then. My plan is to fly back home with you on the twenty-seventh.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning. Make sure you got in okay.”

  He wraps me in a side hug. “I love you, sweet pea.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “So…you and Finn.”

  “It’s nothing serious.” I’m lying a teensy bit, but it’s to myself, too, so it doesn’t count.

  “Good. I like the man, but he’s got a demanding job. One he’s strongly dedicated to.”

  “You don’t need to tell me. It’s one of the things that makes him the great person he is.”

  “You’ve crushed on a lot of baseball players over the years.”

  “How would you know that?”

  He gives me a look.

  “Well, you don’t need to worry. I’ve got this.” I smile for emphasis. “You’re doing okay in the colder weather, right?”

  “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry, either. Now give me a hug so you can get back to the party.”

  My dad’s hugs always reassure me. We say goodbye, and I keep eyes on him until he’s out of sight. I’m a grown woman with her own life, but I miss my dad a lot when he’s not in the same city as me. Just knowing he’s close, even if we don’t see each other, is preferable to him being across the country. And with his illness… I blink the thought away. He can’t—he won’t—stop living his life the way he wants, and that’s a good thing.

  Standing on the periphery of the room, I take in the reception. Candles, flowers, people laughing and talking. The gorgeous three-tiered white buttercream and fondant cake. Robert’s brother taking a turn at karaoke.

  And then I see Finn. He’s seated at our table, looking at his phone. His chiseled jaw is smooth, his nose straight with a slight upward slope near the tip. The hair on top of his head is standing up in messy sophistication; the sides are neat. He presses his shoulders back, holds the position, then relaxes. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him stretch that way. He worked out hard this week. I know because I watched one morning. Dwayne is relentless. Meticulous. I rubbed lidocaine cream all over Finn’s upper back and neck afterward.

  Funny story… I made the mistake of kissing the smooth skin between his shoulder blades right after I’d finished and my lips went numb and prickly! Yep, that medicated cream works well. For approximately thirty minutes when it comes in contact with your mouth. Finn thought it hysterical. I grumbled and made faces at him, but it was pretty funny, so eventually I cracked up, too, and tried to kiss him on the mouth so he could feel the same sensation there. He avoided mouth-to-mouth contact, but kissed me in other places.

  A waitress stops by the table. The same one who served us dinner. She hands Finn a piece of paper. He signs it with his usual geniality. She slips the autograph into the pocket of her black pants and moves on. Finn continues to scroll through something on his phone. He’s like a unicorn when it comes to his cell, barely on it, so whatever he’s checking out must be important.

  Okay, creeper, quit staring at him and walk back to the table.

  I’m not quite there when Finn turns his head. He watches me approach. I watch him watch me. I’ve never been so at ease with eye contact before. So secure in not looking away.

  “Hello, handsome,” I say, taking my seat beside him. “Whatcha doing?”

  He turns his phone to me. On the screen is one of the selfies we took earlier tonight. We’re making funny faces, our heads canted toward each other. And when I say funny, I mean I look ridiculous making fish lips and scrunching my nose, while Finn looks hot as hell sticking his tongue out a la Mick Jagger.

  Basically, Finn looks hot no matter what he does.

  “I’m trying to decide which picture I like best,” he says.

  “And?”

  “I can’t. I like them all.”

  “You know you don’t have to flatter me to get me to go home with you, right?” I walk my fingertips up his arm.

  “Care to go now? The sooner I get you in bed, the longer I can express my admiration for certain parts of you.”

  “Which parts exactly?” I rub his shirt collar between my thumb and fingers, tugging on the material to expose more skin at his neck.

  He kisses me softly on the mouth, making my lips tingle. “That part.” He kisses the side of my neck. More tingles. “That part.” He splays his hand around my waist. Yep, tingles erupt there, too. Let’s just call me tingly all over. “This part.” His other hand touches down on my thigh. “This part.”

  My senses spin out of control at the low, sexy timbre of h
is voice. “So, lots of this and that,” I say softly.

  “And then lots more.” He bends his head so his warm breath fans the side of my face. “I want to sink into you over and over again, worship your nipples until raw pleasure spreads everywhere and you come so hard you see stars.”

  Said nipples now strain against my dress. My panties are wet with anticipation. If I wasn’t the maid of honor, I’d drag Finn to the restroom for a quickie to quench this thirst we have for each other. But my duty is to Jillian for a little while longer.

  “After the cake cutting. And bouquet toss. And garter thing. Then we can go,” I say. I wrap my arms around his neck and touch his nose with mine. “So, another hour. Two, tops.”

  “Thank God it’s not more than that. Three would have put me over the edge,” he teases.

  Lord, I like this guy. We have a quick make-out session, keeping it PG.

  The cake is cut.

  The bouquet is thrown. Remember how I mentioned I’m the only single friend Jilly has? Well, on Robert’s side of the family there are several single ladies and they form a wall worthy of an NFL defensive line, their arms shooting up when the throw is made, and the tallest woman catches the prize. Not that I would have tried for it. Not really.

  The garter is removed by the groom’s teeth to hoots and hollers and his brother is the lucky recipient of the toss.

  The sexiest man alive, AKA my date, asks if he can take me home now.

  We say our goodbyes and given the late hour hit zero traffic and pull into Finn’s garage in no time. “Last one upstairs is a rotten egg,” I call out, hurrying out of the car. My high heels are on the floor of the passenger seat, so I lift up my skirt and easily make a run for it.