Page 5 of Spark
"In that case, please join me."
We slide onto the bar stools. Music pulses around us and my heart matches the beat. I’m a few inches taller than him so I’d place him around six-foot. His eyes are almost in line with my mouth and the way his gaze darts to my lips and then lingers, I really wish I had more than twenty minutes to spend, and a quieter place for us to get to know each other.
Behind Finlay’s shoulder, Cam and a bunch of the guys come barreling toward us amid greetings of "Mateo!" "Hey, Teo!" and "Good to see you, bud."
Waving, I stand. Brows drawn together, Finlay does the same, and I realize I haven’t yet told him that I know Cam and the rest of the squad.
"You found us." Cradling his bottle of beer, Cam grabs me in an enthusiastic hug. Then he pulls back and glances from Finlay to me. "Wait, do you two know each other?"
I turn from Cam’s wrinkled brow to Finlay’s now wide-eyed expression. "Not really. We met when we bumped into each other near the bar earlier."
"Before the fight on the dance floor," Finlay adds. The tips of his ears are red, and he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Mateo helped me carry the glasses to the table."
"Awesome. I wish you were finished for the night so you could have a drink with us, Teo." Cam steps away from me and swings an arm around Finlay’s shoulders. "We’re toasting this guy. Who’s up next for buying Finlay a birthday drink?"
"It’s your birthday?" My surprise colors every syllable of my question. Tons of people celebrate birthdays at clubs or bars. But Finlay has said this place is definitely not his scene. Every inch of his body has telegraphed that fact tonight, loud and clear, from the way he winced at the music to the wary glances at the throng of bodies that brushed past. The only time he’s seemed at ease were those brief moments dancing and when he was with me.
He shrugs off Cam’s arm and meets my gaze. "Yeah."
"The big Four-Oh." Cam says, raising his beer.
Before I can comment on that or ask a question that might lead to learning the reason Finlay is spending his special day at a place he doesn’t like, the lone woman at the table extends her hand toward me. "I’m Aileene. Cam and Finlay’s sister."
"Good to officially meet you." I shake her hand. She’s been a spectator at some of our games during the five years we’ve been in the rec league, and Cam has mentioned Aileene picks up his daughter after most games so the two can spend quality time together.
Finlay’s fingertips rest on my shoulders and the warmth seeps through my T-shirt like five separate brands. "So how do you know these guys?"
"Rugby." I answer, my voice suddenly hoarse.
The light in his eyes flickers and his brows raise in question. "You used to play?"
"Still do. It’s the best part of my Saturdays." My words are met with backslaps and echoes of agreements from my teammates.
One of the backslaps jostles Finlay into my side and his chin connects with my shoulder. Those warm fingers slip from their place, leaving a coldness in their wake. Lips pressed into a line, he straightens up, touching a hand to his chin.
Lowering my head, I lean in. The crisp scent of cologne or aftershave fills my lungs. "You okay?"
He nods and sweeps a wary stare over my teammates.
Easton, one of the players from the under-thirty team, returns from the bar holding two glasses of a pink concoction rimmed with wedges of pineapple. He hands one to his boyfriend, Kade. "Who’s ready for our matches against the Grinders’ over and under thirty teams? Herc, I hate that you can’t be out there playing. Mateo, you were a beast the last time you battled them. Ready to do it again?"
"Uh, yeah, East, I’m ready. Can’t wait to play." My gaze flits to Easton and then to Hercules. A few of the guys echo similar statements and give our injured buddy sympathetic pats on the shoulder. He’s not the first player to sustain both a broken bone and a concussion, but the way his leg snapped out on the pitch still makes me shudder.
Finlay’s shoulder bumps into my bicep as he takes a step forward. "Hey guys, I think it’s time I headed out."
The drenching disappointment, considering I’ve only known of this man’s existence for a few short hours, is so acute it surprises me.
Cam sets his beer down with a clink and raises his arm as though that action alone will prevent his brother from going. "No, not yet."
"Yes." His tone is as firm as steel. "Thanks for the celebration, everyone."
The smile he wears now seems tight across his cheeks and the faint lines fanning his eyes haven’t crinkled with it. He hugs Aileene, then exchanges a half hug, half backslap with Hercules, and then reaches past Herc’s crutches to ruffle Cam’s hair, causing his brother to grimace and bat his hand away.
Finlay lifts that hand in a wave for the rest of the crew, then he focuses those hazel eyes on me. "Nice meeting you, Mateo."
"You too." I take two steps forward and my hand juts out before my brain can call it back. Finlay’s gaze falls to it and after the longest second of my life, he stretches out his arm and his hand clasps mine in its firm, warm grip.
The feel of his palm against mine sends a power surge to every cell in my body. "Happy Birthday, Finlay."
