Page 9 of On Thin Ice

“Exactly. Are you really going to stand here and tell me not to fight like hell for what I want? What Ideserve?”

Elliott finally nodded. “Yeah. I mean . . .yeah. It’s true. You want something? Don’t let anything stop you.”

If Elliott knew what he was planning, he’d definitely stop him. But that was the beauty of Elliottnotknowing.

“Or anybody,” Finn said with satisfaction. “I’m glad for you and Mal, I am. But I gotta go, okay? Tell Ramsey I’ll see him tomorrow, at practice.”

“Are you sure—” Elliott made one last-ditch attempt.

It was pointless. He probably knew it. But Finn loved him for the attempt, even as he easily brushed him off.

“Seriously. I’ll be fine.”I’ll be fine, now. “Go inside. Enjoy your boyfriend.”

He took off down the street, pulling his phone out again. Jacob lived somewhere near here. It shouldn’t be that hard to find the address or to get someone to give it to him.

Finn had a lot of connections because of his last name, but it still took hours more than he’d thought it would. The passing time didn’t do anything but solidify his determination and make him intent and focused on getting exactly what he wanted.

Elliott got Malcolm into his bed, finally?

Well, Finn was going to get Jacob to teach him exactly how to pretend Morgan Reynolds didn’t exist.

How to let his opinions slip right through him, like phantom smoke.

By the time he got the address, he was so keyed up his fingers were trembling and he gripped the steering wheel of his SUV hard as he drove up the private road to Jacob Braun’s house.

It was big, bigger than he’d expected and set back behind a wall of trees, another forest stretching out behind it.

Isolated, that was what Finn thought when he saw it.

If Jacob could be an island, then Finn could find a way to be one too.

Finn parked and jumped out. He could hear the faint strains of music—some kind of seventies rock, he thought—echoing between the trees, so he knew someone had to be home.

Still, he was surprised when he pounded on the big wooden slab doors and nobody came to open them.

He knocked again, louder this time.

Nothing.

But Finn hadn’t come all this way to strike out.

He slipped around the side of the house, laughed at the fancy wrought iron gate, and climbed it easily, falling to his feet on the other side.

There were lights down the winding path, and the roof of a gazebo just peeking out from between the trees.

Finn let his determination power him down to where he’d find Jacob—and hopefully a future where he could actually fuckingbreathe.

Nothing was going to stop him now.

Jacob hated meetings about his career—or hisnon-career, he supposed he could call it now—and so when his agent and his PR rep wanted one, he did everything to make it as palatable as he could.

Andina was one of his favorite restaurants and had a nice private room he could call up and reserve. So instead of suffering through this hell on Zoom or even in a conference room, at least Jacob was doing it over a glass of heavenly wine and the best lamb shank he’d ever put in his mouth.

“At least when you make us fly in,” Sophie said wryly, “you feed us well.”

“It’s only because he hates these,” Mark said, shooting Jacob a knowing glance.

“Healso prefers it when you don’t talk about him in third person when he’s right fucking here,” Jacob retorted without heat.

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