“Good. It was fucking expensive.” She flicked her loose hair over her shoulder.
He stepped back from the doorway. “You coming in?”
She shook her head, the pompom on top of her hat bobbing with the movement.
“Something wrong?”
Another shake. A nostril flare. A lip bite.
What the fuck was wrong with her?
From behind her back she pulled a long, black cylinder. A loud pop echoed around the foyer before brightly colored shards of paper exploded into the air above his head. What the hell? Had she just set off a confetti cannon?
She tossed the empty cannon into the air and it landed at his feet with a dull thud against the tiles. He’d never seen a hotter mic drop in his life.
“Did you just declare confetti cannon war, MoMo?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “And what if I did, Finny?”
While the gesture was small – and messy – her attempt to distract him, to pull him out of the darkness, to cheer him up… it meant the world to him. So he was going to hit up Party City, buy a dozen confetti cannons, and win the freakin’ war,that’swhat he was going to do.
“That’s it? That’s what you came for? To pop a confetti cannon at me?”
She threw a casual shrug, opening her arms as if to say “What are you gonna do about it?” and left.
***
After a five mile run and a cold shower, Finn arrived at the rink for skills practice. It hadn’t originally been on the schedule, but Coach Swift wasn’t content enough that itlooked likethe team were winning the finals of the NCAA college hockey tournament – the Frozen Four – he was determined to make damn sure it happened. Even if it killed them all to get there.
Laced up, Finn stepped out of the locker room and headed toward the ice. Molly stood, notebook in hand, chatting to Fowler – the backup netminder for the team – taking notes as he spoke. Her brows knitted together in a frown and her tongue poked out from the side of her mouth as she scribbled.
“Why are you interviewing Fowler, MoMo? Don’t you think I’d make a better subject for your story?”
If eye rolling was an Olympic sport, Molly Morrison would be a gold medal winner. Every. Damn. Time.
“What can you do, Obi? I am loved by the people of Minnesota.” Fowler shrugged.
“He’s also hot.”
Finn’s brows shot up. She thought he was hot? Huh. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, but he didn’t like the sour feeling that sat heavy in his stomach. Fowler grinned. “She… she says I’m hot.”
Molly laughed, the sound echoing around the corridor. “I meant that you’re on a winning streak right now, Cameron. You’re on a hot streak.”
“Ah. You mean je suis au top de ma forme... comme gardien.” Fowler’s shoulders sank and his face fell. Of course he wanted Molly to think he was hot. Every guy on the team who had eyes in their head and hot blood in their veins wanted Molly to think they were hot. But perhaps Fowler had forgotten his “talking to” from Will. Everyone got it at some point. Those who didn’t listen the first time, got a more severe second warning, but Finn hadn’t known anyone to get to three. Will had the overprotective big brother thing down pat.
He folded his arms. “Watch it, Fowler. Cap’s sister is off limits to the team. Remember?”
The French Canadian’s entire face turned a dark shade of red, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh, I, uh, I’m… I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”
Molly waved it off with a sympathetic smile. “Will can bite me. I date who I want. In case you’ve forgotten, Finny, I never signed my name to any of his bullshit patriarchal demands.” She examined her nails. “I just haven’t found anyone on the team worth my time yet.” Her smirk almost undid him.
Date? What the hell? She wanted to date Fowler? Over his dead body was that smug prick taking Molly on a date. Fine, he wasn’t a prick, he was actually one of the good ones. The Snow Pirates had two French Canadian goaltenders, and as far as Finn was concerned, one was more than enough when one of them wanted in Molly’s pants.
Fowler’s eyes lit up at her declaration of independence, and he turned a hopeful stare back to Finn who shook his head and forced his best “don’t fuck with her” glare. Fowler had better get the friggin’ message.
The goalie nodded. Finn couldn’t blame him for trying. The woman was stunning. And as long as he had Will’s mandate about players dating his sister to hide behind, it all looked as though Finn simply had his best friend’s back. If only it was as straightforward as that.
If looks could kill, the frosty glare Molly tossed at Finn might have sent him six feet under, but her stare didn’t scare him. As far as she was concerned, he was simply doing his duty to make sure Will’s wishes were upheld among the team.
