Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3)

by Stephanie Kay

  “And there it is. So… what does he really want?” he gritted out, surprised the man hadn’t called Finn for another handout.

  “Can I talk to him?” he asked.

  “Honey, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You two never got along.”

  “Just put him on, please,” he said, holding back his frustration.

  “Fine.”

  He waited as his mother called for Jack to grab the phone. He noticed that she didn’t tell him who was asking to speak with him. Maybe his mother wasn’t as helpless as he’d thought.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Father.”

  “Finn? Finn, it’s so great to hear from you. Let me take this in another room.” Of course the man wanted to get out of earshot of his wife. Jack Finnegan might be an ass, but he was also smart.

  “Finn, my boy, how’s everything going?”

  “Don’t pretend that you give a shit. Why are you home? We had a deal.”

  “There’s no need to take that tone with me, son. I wanted to see my family. It’s been so long. I’ve been over in Toronto working and finally had a break while I look for a new job. Thought I’d try to get one close to home.”

  Finn scoffed. “You got fired and your girlfriend kicked you out? Don’t think I’m giving you anything else.”

  “How dare you? I love your mother. There’s no one else.”

  “I don’t believe you for a second, but for some reason my mother doesn’t think you’re an asshole. Her blinders are thick when it comes to you,” he bit out.

  “I’m here for my family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” his father said, his tone soft. And Finn knew exactly why his father’s tone had changed as his mother got back on the line.

  “Eric Finnegan, I know you have issues with your father, but you will not talk to him like that.”

  Finn took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just want you to be happy. You may not agree, but you deserve better.”

  “Your father and I have our issues, but we always find a way back to each other.”

  His chest clenched at his mother’s words. He’d thought he fixed this problem when he paid his father all those years ago. The man wasn’t supposed to come back. How could she not see Jack for who he was? And at what point did Finn stop trying to convince her that she could do better?

  “Fine. But I think I’ll come visit soon.”

  “We would love to see you, honey, but don’t rush on our part. You fix that ankle and come visit us before the summer ends. We’ll still be here,” his mother said.

  Finn ended the call before he could say anything else he might regret.

  Chapter 9

  She was going to be totally professional today and not think about kissing Finn while they went through his exercises. She was nervous, debating what to wear to work, throwing clothes around her room while Claire watched from the doorway, a smug smile on her face.

  “You are not helping,” Sophia grumbled, pulling on a pair of black athletic pants. The same pair she’d put on initially. Why did that always happen?

  “Oh, I’m not trying to. I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous. Actually, yes I am. I kissed a patient. A patient I have to see today. What if Dr. Anders finds out? Oh God, what if she finds out and fires me?”

  “First, she’s not going to find out because, maybe, don’t kiss him in the office.”

  Sophia glared at her friend. “I’m not going to kiss him in the office. That would be highly inappropriate.”

  “Just keep your kissing to outside of the office.” Claire wiggled her brows.

  Sophia huffed, then grabbed the closest shirt and yanked it over her head.

  “Cute top. Maybe not for work?”

  Sophia looked down. Dammit. She was wearing a sparkly fitted shirt that she would wear to go dancing. She yanked it off and grabbed her work polo.

  “I’m a mess. And no more kissing him anywhere,” she said, and then instantly thought about trailing kisses all over his body.

  “You’re thinking about it,” Claire teased.

  “Shut up. Don’t you have to get to work?”

  “Yes, and I’m leaving now. Just wanted to wish you good luck. And try to keep your tongue in your own mouth until you clock out.”

  “Not helping.”

  “Stop. You’ll be fine today. It’ll start out a little awkward, and resisting him will be hard since he’s so freaking hot, but just be strong and you’ll make it through the day.”

  “Your pep talks suck, you know that?”

  “Love you, too,” she said, and with one last grin, she left Sophia sitting in a pile of her clothes.

  Dammit. Could she call in sick?

  ***

  She tried to smother her nerves with leftovers from the restaurant at lunch, knowing that she’d be face-to-face with Finn in less than an hour. Her morning had gone smoothly, except when she’d gone to work on Mrs. Whatley’s knee, but had reached for the woman’s perfectly healthy ankle instead. She’d played it off as a new exercise, but had scolded herself at the slip.

  She’d pushed Finn from her mind for the rest of the morning, and her other appointments had gone well. Even Mr. Argus left the room happy, which was a first. She swore she’d get that man to crack a smile before his hip rehab was complete.

  And now Finn was back…on her mind—and would be in the office very soon. And she would be professional and not think about how soft his lips were or how much she wanted to pick up where they’d left off last weekend.

  She shoveled in the rest of her lunch, not tasting it—which was a crime in itself—and made her way to the exam room. One of the interns had already popped his head in to tell her Finn had arrived. She took a calming breath outside the door, and after a quick knock, she let herself in.

  He was sprawled out on the chair, his phone to his ear, grinning. She’d never seen him smile that wide, unless he was celebrating a win on the ice. Holy hell, it should be illegal to be that attractive.

  “Yes, Molly, I’m so glad you had a good day, and we’re still on for dinner tonight, right? I’m making something special.”

  Wait. Who the hell was Molly? He’d kissed her three days ago and now he was smiling and making dinner plans with another woman? Anger blossomed in her chest as she continued to listen to his conversation.

  “I can’t wait for that, too, and I promise I’ll be on time for dinner tonight.” He laughed. “Yes, I promise.”

  Seriously? Not only had she kissed a patient, but a non-single one, at that.

  “I’ll talk to you tonight. Yes. Love you, too,” he said, then ended the call, and finally looked at her.

  Love? What the hell?

  “You have a lot of nerve, you know that?” she bit out.

  The smile on his face vanished, only uncertainty in his gaze. In his stupid blue, get-lost-in-his-eyes gaze. Dammit.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Who the hell is Molly? Your girlfriend?” She paused, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’re dating someone and you kissed me.” She kept her voice low. She’d love nothing more than to shout at him, but the last thing she needed was the office knowing what she’d done with a patient.

  He laughed, and she barely resisted the urge to punch him.

  “This is funny? Wow, you really are an asshole, you know that?”

  He stood up from the chair and stalked toward her—with the grace of a large cat. Shit, he was too attractive for her own well-being.

  “What? Nothing to say?” She had to stop talking. She wanted to escape the room, but he crowded into her, her back hitting the door.

  “You are adorable,” he said.

  “You are an asshole.” She glared up at him.

  “I’m not dating anyone. Molly is my three-year-old niece, and we FaceTime during dinner at least once a week because I couldn’t go home this summer. You know, since I stayed here for rehab.”

  “Your niece?”

  H
is eyes glittered as he continued to smile at her. This time the smile was softer, and she ached to reach out and touch his lips, but she held back because she’d just made an ass of herself. She barely resisted the urge to bolt from the room, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  “Yes, my niece,” he said, swiping his phone on to show her a picture of an adorable little girl with blonde pigtails and a dimple in one cheek, her grin just as wide as her uncle’s.

  “Umm. She’s cute.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “You have FaceTime dinner dates with her?” Crap, that was the sweetest thing.

  “Yes.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I just assumed when you said you were having dinner with her tonight. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. And we just kissed. It’s not like we’re dating. Sorry—”

  He cut off her ramblings by sealing his lips with hers. She gasped against his mouth. His hands drifted to her waist, tugging her into his body. She didn’t fight it for a second, sinking into his warmth as he continued to kiss her, stealing her breath and wiping away every other excuse she had.

  Embarrassment quickly turned to need, and her hands sank into his hair, holding him close, as she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. This kiss was different than the one at the bar. It was slower, more tender, but it built up quickly, sending bolts of desire throughout her body. She shamelessly pressed against him, feeling every hard ridge, every perfectly cut muscle. Her hips shifted against his thighs, and he groaned in her mouth. His need for her evenly matched, as his erection pressed into her belly.

  His hands left her hips to trail up and down her back, and she gave into the shudder that wracked her body, her fingers tightening in his soft hair. She reached up, yanking the band away and letting his hair down, so she could slip her fingers through the strands.

  He deepened the kiss, his hands moving down to her ass to lift her up. She stopped herself a split second before she wrapped her legs around his trim waist.

  “Finn, stop. We can’t,” she said, releasing his hair, and breaking the kiss.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands back on her waist, still holding her against him. “Why not?”

  She huffed out a breath and stepped out from under him. “Because you’re my patient.” She rolled her shoulders back and met his gaze. Fire burned in the blue depths, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. And do other things—so many other things. She wanted to explore every inch of his body with her fingers, her mouth, her tongue. Shit. She wanted that more than her next breath, but she couldn’t. She shouldn’t.

  “But not for much longer. You have to know that I only want to kiss you. There’s no one else.” The sincerity was clear in his gaze, and her heart melted.

  No. Nope. No melting allowed.

  “Umm. Ah, I’m sorry for assuming. You know, about the call,” she said, gesturing to his phone that he’d carelessly thrown on the exam table right before he’d kissed the hell out of her.

  So far she’d yelled at a patient and then kissed the hell out of him seconds later. How unprofessional could she get? And she’d only been in the room with him for five minutes.

  “It’s fine,” he said, running his finger down her cheek, her breath froze in her chest.

  “No, it’s not. I overreacted and then kissed you. It’s so unprofessional.” She dropped her gaze and shook her head.

  Finn hated how dejected Sophia looked. And he understood her need to be professional, but he also understood that something was happening between them, and patient or not, he wasn’t ready to walk away from her, or go back to being just patient and PT. That ship had sailed well before he’d kissed her last weekend, whether she wanted to admit that or not.

  He linked his fingers with hers, and tugged her close, forcing her to look up at him. “I know that we shouldn’t have kissed, but I don’t regret it for a moment.”

  “Of course it doesn’t matter to you. But it’s my job. You’re my patient.”

  “Technically, I’m Dr. Anders’ patient.”

  She scoffed. “Technicalities don’t matter if someone catches us.”

  “I promise no one will catch us. It’s not like we’re having sex on the exam table.”

  She sucked in a breath, and he tried to keep his gaze off her breasts, but he wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet, lay her across the exam table, and act on every inappropriate thought he’d had rolling through his head since the moment he’d met her. By the look in her eyes, she felt the same way. Her cheeks flushed, and he resisted the urge to brush his lips across them. He was an ass for not taking her seriously and walking away at that moment, but he couldn’t take the needed step to do that.

  “You can’t say things like that,” she bit out, the fire in her eyes an equal mix of desire and frustration. He was familiar with that look since he was sure it was mirrored in his own eyes whenever he thought of her.

  “I know, but I’m done apologizing for something we both want,” he muttered, leaning in and kissing her warm cheeks, biting back a grin at her sharp inhale.

  “Please stop. Not here.”

  “Okay. We’ll keep it tame in this office. I know your career is important, and as much as I want you, I won’t jeopardize that. Or at least, I’ll try my best not to jeopardize it.”

  “Not helping.” She growled when he brushed one quick and final kiss across her lips.

  “Neither is your growling at me, but I’m not complaining.”

  “Your ankle,” she started.

  “We should have dinner together,” he said at the same time, and she laughed, shaking her head.

  “You won’t give up, will you?”

  “Nope. All bets are off outside of this office. And you could bring your jersey for me to sign.” He couldn’t stop his grin when she muttered something under her breath.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to kill Claire.”

  “I still can’t believe you have my jersey. How long have you had it?”

  “A few years,” she said, softly, but he heard it.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I liked watching you play. And you’re not bad to look at.” The pink in her cheeks darkened.

  “I’m so happy you find me not bad to look at,” he teased.

  “Could you stop, please?” she asked, focusing on her tablet, her fingers mindlessly swiping across the screen. There was no way she was actually reading anything.

  He took the tablet from her hands and set it on the counter, then linked his hand with hers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll stop for now, but just think about it. About what you want. I won’t be a patient forever.”

  “I know,” she whispered, squeezing back.

  He’d take that for now, but he wasn’t going to let her walk away.

  “Thanks. And it’s not like I have a lot of free time to date, anyway.” She paused, shaking her head, and muttered, “Not that you needed to know that.”

  “You work there a lot. At Lanzi’s?”

  “It’s the family business.” There was something in her tone that he couldn’t put a finger on. A mixture of sadness and frustration, but it came out way too cheery.

  “Yeah, but don’t you work here full-time, too?”

  “Yes. And I love it here. I studied hard to get this position. I like helping people recover. To know that my patients are back out there, doing what they love, and following their dreams in part because of their rehab,” she said. He didn’t miss the fact that the passion and excitement in her voice was absent when she talked about the restaurant.

  “Why can’t you just work here?”

  “You just want me to be free tomorrow night for dinner,” she teased

  He squeezed her fingers. “No. That has nothing to do with it.”

  “It’s a family thing. We all work at the restaurant. Eventually, I’ll cut back on my hours there, but for now, I work a lot.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like there was no other option.
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br />   “Aren’t you exhausted?”

  “Says the hockey player. You guys work extremely hard. It’s more than two full-time jobs for you between all the games and training.”

  “Yeah, but I love hockey. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember. It’s grueling, but every second is worth it.”

  “I love the restaurant. And my family. And they need me there, so I make it work. Usually with vats of coffee.”

  He hated how defensive she sounded. He’d clearly hit a nerve. “I get it. Family can be tough.”

  “And yours forced you into hockey?”

  He grinned. “Definitely not. But it wasn’t easy. Practices are always way too early in the morning when you’re a kid, and it’s not the cheapest sport to play.”

  “Yeah. I remember you said your mom worked three jobs. Did your dad take you to practices?”

  His laugh was harsh. “My father was never around. I don’t like to talk about him.” He fought back the anger, trying to keep his expression neutral, even though he’d failed with that laugh.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sure your mom is very proud of you.”

  “I’m very lucky. My best friend lived across the street and he played hockey, so his dad took us to all our practices and games. My mom and sister came to as many as they could.”

  “That’s great. Did your friend ever make it to the pros?”

  “Umm, no.” He paused, shifting on his feet. He hated talking about Brandon and what happened. It still ate at him that Finn was living out his dreams while his friend was back home watching it on TV. “He got into an accident on the ice, slammed into the board at a weird angle and fucked up his leg a month before the draft. He doesn’t really skate anymore, but he loves to watch.”

  “That’s awful. Freak accidents can happen to anyone on the ice,” she said, running her thumb over the back of his hand.

  “Yes they can. He’ll actually be here for the season opener. He tries to come to the home opener every year.”

  “Then we are going to have you back on the ice for that,” she said, and his chest clenched. She understood. She got him. It took everything in his power to not pull her in for another kiss.