The Player's Club: Finn by Cathy Yardley Read Free Book Online Page B

story at the bar. “Great guy, very enthusiastic.”
    “You’re getting shot out of a cannon.” Juliana enunciated each word.
    “You know, it turns out they don’t use gunpowder,” Finn offered. “It’s a catapult, and they add some flash powder and a loud boom so it seems like a cannon. So it’s not half as hard-core as you think it is.”
    “Really?” Tucker said, sounding disappointed. “That sucks! What a rip-off!” When the rest of the group stared disapprovingly at him, he winced. “I mean…um…”
    Finn grinned.
    Lincoln studied him expectantly. “We still need to talk about Everest, Finn. Unless you were planning on faking that by just taking a hike through Yellowstone or something.”
    “How did you hear?” Finn quipped.
    Lincoln glared at him.
    “It’s not my fault he’s found sherpas who are willing to go up sooner than we’d planned,” Finn protested. “And I’ll go over every inch of his plan and make sure everything’s safe before I— You didn’t know about that, did you?” He felt stupid, as anger had lit up Lincoln’s face. Juliana rolled her eyes, and the rest of them seemed stunned.
    “Earlier than six months?”
    Finn grimaced. “I’ll make sure it’s okay, Lincoln.”
    “I can’t sign off on this,” Lincoln said between clenched teeth. It was one of the rare occasions when Finn saw his best friend both pissed and frazzled. “We’ve said no to less-dangerous stunts.”
    “ You’ve said no,” Finn retorted, then felt childish.
    “You’d say yes to anything, Finn.” Lincoln didn’t sound angry, merely sad. Maybe even disappointed. It rankled the hell out of Finn.
    “You make it sound like I have a death wish!”
    He expected some laughter or something, but suddenly, the crew was staring at him. Pointedly. Tucker even shot him a look: Duh, dude. Why do you think we’re worried?
    “Holy crap,” Finn said, figuring it out finally. “I don’t have a death wish. I don’t .”
    “I’m just saying we can’t approve this challenge,” Lincoln said.
    “What, you’re going to kick Ben and me out of the Club?” Finn laughed, but then stopped abruptly, seeing the look on his friend’s face.
    “I think that maybe Ben might need a different mentor,” Lincoln said, in a low voice.
    “I brought him in.” Finn felt insulted. “He barely knows anybody else here.”
    “He barely knows you,” Lincoln pointed out, nodding at Ben, who was in the middle of an animated conversation with five other people. “And somehow, I think he’ll manage.”
    “Listen, Linc, either you trust me, or you don’t. What kind of friend are you?”
    Lincoln’s eyes widened.
    “Time out,” Juliana interrupted. “Go to your separate corners. Baby, Lincoln, get me a drink, please?” Without checking to see if he’d agree to it, she looped arms with Finn and dragged him off to a corner. “We care about you. Lincoln loves you, in that bromance, guy-buddy sort of way. You’re his family, Finn,” she said emphatically. “His only family.”
    “Guilting me isn’t going to change anything,” Finn said. “I’ve been guilted by the best.”
    “You are so stubborn.” She poked him in the ribs, and he glared at her. “Lincoln’s not going to just stand there cheering when the closest thing he has to a brother decides to get himself killed.”
    “I’m not going to get…”
    A commotion nearby abruptly stopped their conversation. Finn saw seven men dressed similarly in dark suits. They looked like the secret service. Despite the bouncer’s insistence that it was a private party, they remained where they were, until the lead guy’s attention fell on Finn. With long, purposeful strides, he stepped right up to Finn and handed him a large manila envelope. “From Diana Song,” he said, in a clear voice that carried. “She said to deliver this to you immediately, and that you’d know what to do from here.”
    Finn stared at him in disbelief. Then he burst into laughter. “