Page 71 of The Boss I Can't Stand

Iactuallyfelt like Cinderella, the girl whose clock was quickly ticking down to midnight. I knew there was still the whole media blitz to come as we marketed the movie during post-production, and I was already slated to do a bunch of costume-specific interviews for the run-up to the Oscars. But what I didn’t know was what the end of filming meant for our relationship—this sometimes-real, sometimes-not, in-between thing that we’d never talked about labeling because I already had a ring on my finger.

What more did we need to say?

But soon, there would be no more need for that ring, and despite my best attempts, we hadn’t discussed what came after.

Okay, so maybe theyweren’tmy best attempts. I hadn’t actually tried all that hard to initiate the conversation. But who could really blame me? For once in my life, I just wanted to enjoy myself before the clock struck midnight.

I shook off those thoughts, or tried to, as Finn threw his ball down our lane, landing it in the gutter at the last second.

“Looks like you could use some hands-on coaching,” I said from behind him.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Tell me more about this ‘hands-on’ part,” he said over the thump of the music.

“It’s more something I have to show you,” I said.

His eyebrows waggled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good. We’re gonna start by holding some very big balls.”

Finn snorted, another one of those real laughs breaking through as he shook his head at my poor attempt at a dirty joke. “That was horrible.”

“I’ve been drinking. Tonight’s not the night for my best work.”

“I know. Which is why I’m going to give you a pass.” He took me by the lapels of his own jacket and tugged me close. “Want to get some air?”

“You just want a ‘hands-on’ demonstration,” I said wryly.

He winked at me. “I’m trying to let someone else on our team win at bowling.”

My mouth shot open. “A distraction play!”

“Exactly,” he said, looping his arm through mine and leading me out a side door. We emerged into darkness, the October night chilly but not unbearably so. “Warm enough?” he asked.

“I could do with some body heat,” I said.

He wrapped his arms around me, dropping his hands down to cup my ass. “Hi.”

“Hey,” I said, looking up at him. His dark features glowed in the lights pouring through the glass doors.

“Are you having fun?” he asked.

“Yes. Bucketloads.”

“Bucketloads? I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It is,” I said as his hands curled over my hips. I pressed myself closer to him.

“Good,” he said. I could tell he wanted to kiss me, and God knew I wanted that, too. But before I got lost in every intoxicating thing that was Finn, I gathered my courage and blurted out the question that had been ricocheting around my mind for the better part of the night.

“What happens now?”

“What do you mean?” Finn said. “We make out hard, we go back in there and you wipe the floor with the sound guys, and then I take you home and you can give me that hands-on coaching you were talking about.”

I caught the laugh that surged up my throat. “That’s not what I meant.”

He leaned closer, held me tighter. “Isn’t it?”

I bit my lip. He tilted his head, chasing my mouth with his own, but I pulled back. “Be serious for a second.”