{"id":82,"date":"2015-09-01T12:19:31","date_gmt":"2015-09-01T12:19:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/?page_id=82"},"modified":"2015-09-02T04:12:18","modified_gmt":"2015-09-02T04:12:18","slug":"the-finn-factor-excerpt","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/books\/the-finn-factor\/the-finn-factor-excerpt\/","title":{"rendered":"The Finn Factor: Excerpt"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n

The Finn Factor<\/a><\/p>\n

Read Excerpt<\/p>\n

Reviews<\/a><\/p>\n

Extras<\/a><\/p>\n

Back to Books<\/a><\/p>\n

Buy at iBooks<\/a>, Amazon<\/a>, Barnes & Noble<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Fun<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

<\/h2>\n

Chapter One<\/h2>\n

 <\/p>\n

Scarlett<\/h3>\n

He hadn\u2019t kissed me. The jerk.<\/p>\n

From the front door, I watched my date walk down the path, through the gate, and to his car, illuminated by the full moon and the streetlamps on our suburban Sydney street. I waited for him to turn back and wave\u2014anything\u2014but, nope. Another Saturday night that had led to Nowhere Town. He\u2019d said he\u2019d call, but a guy that sticks out his hand awkwardly at my front door is not planning a future with me.<\/p>\n

I closed the door, kicked off my heels, and headed through the house calling, \u201cI\u2019m home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finn, my roommate and best friend rolled into one,looked up from the dining table as I went past. \u201cBad night?\u201d<\/p>\n

He was surrounded by a mountain of textbooks and random notes he\u2019d scrawled on scraps of paper. His almostblack hair was disheveled\u2014knowing him, probably from running his hands through it\u2014and he had blue ink smudged on his stubbled jaw, as if he\u2019d forgotten the pen in his hand when he\u2019d rubbed it.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a great one,\u201d I said and dropped into the chair across from him. I looked around at his Saturday night companions and frowned. \u201cBut at least I went out. I\u2019m starting to think you\u2019re more interested in ancient reed flutes than real life.\u201d<\/p>\n

He narrowed dark blue\u2014but bloodshot\u2014eyes at me. \u201cThis is my real life, Scarlett. PhDs don\u2019t write themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fair point. Even if his PhD topic was the poorly tuned musical instruments of a long-dead society in ancient Mesopotamia. Sighing, I rested my forehead on the closest pile of old books, careful not to press my favorite cobaltblue glasses into my face. I should be more focused on my messed up self anyway\u2014Finn never had trouble finding a date if he wanted one. Keeping them was another story, but overall, he was more than capable of running his own social affairs.<\/p>\n

Though we were only friends, even I could appreciate that Finn was hot.<\/p>\n

His chair creaked as he leaned back and yawned. \u201cYou seem cranky. Was it that guy with the unfortunate facial hair? Was he out of line?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe perfect gentleman.\u201d Which was the problem. I lifted my head and sought the reassurance of his always-steady gaze. \u201cFinn, if there was something wrong with me, you\u2019d be honest about it, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat,\u201d he asked, rubbing his chest through one of his signature pale blue T-shirts, \u201clike if you had botulism and the doctor asked me to break it to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Botulism? He needed to start reading things written in this century. \u201cI mean, if there was something about me that guys found\u2026unappealing.\u201d<\/p>\n

He dropped his pen onto his notebook. \u201cScarlett, you know you\u2019re pretty. What are you really asking?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was probably time I admitted this out loud. I drew in a deep breath and said it quickly. \u201cI seem to be having something of a dry spell.\u201d<\/p>\n

He winced and stood. \u201cI haven\u2019t had near enough caffeine for this conversation.\u201d He headed for the kitchen and I followed.<\/p>\n

\u201cFour years of friendship, Finn McKenzie, and you still try to avoid talking about sex with me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He opened the cupboard and grabbed a mug, but his broad shoulders slumped a little. \u201cFour years of friendship and I\u2019ve given up trying and accepted it as inevitable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cForget the coffee,\u201d I said, opening the fridge. \u201cI\u2019ll make mojitos.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finn turned back around and grimaced. \u201cIt\u2019s going to be a serious conversation about your sex life, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. \u201cYou\u2019ll be fine. Men love talking about sex.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot with their sisters or their female friends,\u201d he said, his face paling.<\/p>\n

And I guess I ticked both boxes\u2014a female friend who was more like a little sister. He pulled the state of the art blender out of the appliance cupboard, and I put a cup under the icemaker in the fridge door, filling it with enough for a jug of mojitos. One of the best parts of renting a room in Finn\u2019s house was the appliances. He always had up-todate electrical gadgets in the kitchen, the best sound system in the living room, and the laundry room was so high-tech, the clothes pretty much took care of themselves.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d inherited the house, a large bank account, and custody of his two younger sisters when his parents had died, and he\u2019d kept the furniture the same. The whole place had a lived-in, almost shabby feel, but anything that plugged into a power socket was updated every six months.<\/p>\n

Being the child of self-professed hippies, raised according to their back-to-nature philosophies, there was nothing I liked better than a brand new, shiny appliance. The icemaker was my favorite. An entire appliance whose only job was to create ice and have it waiting to tumble into my cup any time of the day or night. Now that <\/em>was living the dream.<\/p>\n

Finn threw the lime juice in the blender to join the other ingredients and I pushed down the lid and switched it on. The rattle of the ice being crushed into the alcohol made me smile. I might be having a dry spell, but there was always late night mojitos with Finn.<\/p>\n

Drinks in hand, we headed for the sofa. He\u2019d obviously resigned himself to having this conversation\u2014he never held out on me if he knew it meant a lot. I hugged his arm on the way past, completely conscious in that moment of how lucky I was to have him in my life. I didn\u2019t know what I\u2019d do without him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d he said, then paused to guzzle half his drink. \u201cWhat did mustache boy say that\u2019s got you thinking these stupid things?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d I took a long sip of my mojito as I tucked my feet up underneath me on the vintage sofa. \u201cDo you remember the last time I dated anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat guy with the awkward fuzz on his face was here tonight. Am I wrong, or was that a date? And more<\/p>\n

importantly, did you tell him to stop embarrassing himself and just shave it off?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ignoring the dig about my date\u2019s admittedly patchy beard, I brought the conversation back into focus. \u201cIt was a first date. That doesn\u2019t constitute dating <\/em>someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are we defining it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed the mojito pitcher from the coffee table and topped up our glasses. \u201cIt has to be something regular. Maybe five dates or more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about the guy with the pink beret?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope,\u201d I said and adjusted my glasses. \u201cTwo dates and never heard from him since. Besides, it was a red beanie. And it was winter, so it was a sensible choice of headwear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmph.\u201d He chugged more of his drink. \u201cWhat about the one who was wearing his sunglasses at the bar?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLarry. And he\u2019d had eye surgery and had to wear the glasses around bright lights.\u201d I chewed on my bottom lip. He was hot and I\u2019d had high hopes. \u201cOne date, and then I<\/p>\n

accidentally ran into him at The Three Beers a week later and we had a few drinks. Maybe we could call it one and a half dates.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finn wrapped a hand around the back of his neck\u2014a spot that usually bothered him when he\u2019d spent all day hitting the books. \u201cI don\u2019t even know why we\u2019re discussing this. You want to date, and you go on dates.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want something more<\/em>.\u201d My female friends fell in and out of love all the time, and their sex lives made me sound like a nun. Was it so wrong to want a little of what they had?<\/p>\n

Finn shrugged and lifted his feet to rest on the coffee table. \u201cThen choose better men.\u201d<\/p>\n

An easy solution\u2014blame it on the guys. But if I wanted things to be different, I couldn\u2019t resort to platitudes to make myself feel better. I had to face the truth. \u201cIt\u2019s obviously not them. The common factor in all this here is me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd here we are back at the start,\u201d he said, not masking his exasperation. \u201cThere is nothing wrong with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

But I wasn\u2019t so sure. \u201cHang on a sec.\u201d I put my glass down, jumped up, and grabbed my laptop. Time to get mathematical about the situation. \u201cLet\u2019s go through this again. Who have I been on dates with?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is crazy. You know that, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were expecting sane after a disappointing date and two mojitos?\u201d I opened a new spreadsheet document.<\/p>\n

He threw back his head and groaned, but I could tell he was smiling.<\/p>\n

One hour and another jug of mojitos later, I had a colorcoded graph that tracked my dating progress. I hit print and stood a little woozily to snatch the paper as it spurted from Finn\u2019s fancy printer.<\/p>\n

It was just as I\u2019d suspected. \u201cSee?\u201d I said as I thrust the paper under his nose.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee that you\u2019ve lost your mind, you mean?\u201d But he took the graph.<\/p>\n

I settled in beside him on the couch so I could point at the page. \u201cThere\u2019s a downward trend. The guys I dated in high school lasted at least a couple of months. Then it decreased to around four or five dates. In the last year, it\u2019s gone down to one or two dates.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at the plunging line again. I\u2019d made a lot of graphs, charts, and spreadsheets in my time\u2014I was halfway to being an accountant, after all\u2014but this was by far the most depressing graph I\u2019d ever made.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re getting pickier about guys. Good for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I am not the one ending these non-relationships. They\u2019re <\/em>getting more picky about me<\/em>. Color-coded charts don\u2019t lie, Finn. This totally explains my dry spell.\u201d It was hard to get to the sex dates when the guys cut and ran beforehand. \u201cHow long can you go without sex before you become a born again virgin?\u201d<\/p>\n

Finn gulped his drink, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in this discussion. \u201cThere are probably other factors in play.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was true. What factors hadn\u2019t I taken into account? What was the commonality in first or second dates\u2026?<\/p>\n

And then it hit me.<\/p>\n

Kissing.<\/p>\n

These guys seemed eager when they asked me out, but once they\u2019d kissed me, they drove off into the sunset. Tonight\u2019s date had kissed me briefly at the door when he\u2019d arrived, but he\u2019d been different once we\u2019d headed for the bar. And he hadn\u2019t made a move when he\u2019d dropped me home\u2026<\/p>\n

Mortified, I covered my face with my hands.<\/p>\n

I was a bad kisser.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Finn asked.<\/p>\n

Could I admit this? Even to my best friend? I looked up at Finn\u2019s sweet face; his dark blue eyes were filled with concern. I\u2019d never been able to keep secrets from him, and it looked like that wasn\u2019t about to change now.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s my kissing.\u201d I blew out a lungful of air, resigned to my fate. \u201cI kiss them on the first or second date, then never hear from them again.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyebrows drew together. \u201cYou\u2019re kissing guys on the first date?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA little focus here, please. Apparently I\u2019m a bad kisser.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I revert to my previous theory.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cYou\u2019ve gone insane.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy entire dating future is doomed. I\u2019ll grow old, probably still in this house, surrounded by cats.\u201d I grabbed his hand. \u201cPromise me you\u2019ll let me live here when I\u2019m wrinkled and lonely. And that you\u2019ll make sure I have an ice maker in working order?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you\u2019re a perfectly good kisser, Scarlett.\u201d But he said it patiently, as if he were speaking to a child, and let go of my hand.<\/p>\n

I threw myself back on the sofa, feeling the need to be as dramatic as this realization was. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t know\u2014you\u2019ve never kissed me. The guys who have are currently running for the hills.\u201d<\/p>\n

He took my glass. \u201cAnd that\u2019s enough for you tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt makes total sense. In high school, I was dating boys who didn\u2019t know much about kissing themselves, so they probably didn\u2019t notice, and the relationships progressed. Then,\u201d I said, stabbing the chart with my finger, \u201cthe dating length gets shorter the older I get\u2014because the guys I date are getting older, too, and they obviously have higher expectations of kisses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cScarlett\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

I held up a hand, cutting him off. \u201cIt stands to reason their expectations are higher, since nowadays, these guys tend to take me out to places that don\u2019t have a drive-thru. My lack of kissing skills is the only thing that makes sense of the data.\u201d I slid down on the sofa and threw my feet onto his lap. \u201cGod, what twenty-one-year-old can\u2019t kiss properly? I\u2019m doomed. Doomed, I tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re over-thinking this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Over-thinking? I chewed on my bottom lip. Maybe the mojitos were <\/em>making me pessimistic. I needed to come at this from another angle.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right.\u201d I sat up again but left my feet in his lap. \u201cNo point moping. I\u2019ve identified the problem. The question now is what I do about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed and deposited my feet on the floor. \u201cI\u2019m not even sure why I\u2019m needed in this conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thing was, how did someone improve their kissing skills? When I wanted to learn to be an accountant, I enrolled in school. Sure, I\u2019d taken a year off to work and save up money so I could finish my degree, but the overall process was the same. I wanted to learn, and someone was teaching me.<\/p>\n

Who would give kissing lessons?<\/p>\n

\u201cCole Jericho,\u201d I said and nodded, impressed with the elegant simplicity of the answer.<\/p>\n

Finn stilled, his gaze sharpening. \u201cCole Jericho? The actor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a client at work, and we\u2019ve chatted a few times when he\u2019s been waiting for an appointment. He\u2019s perfect.\u201d A spark of hope lit in my chest. This plan was great. I wondered when he\u2019d be into the office next.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerfect for what?\u201d Finn asked warily.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, he\u2019s been on TV most of his life, so he\u2019s had to kiss<\/p>\n

a lot of girls on camera.\u201d With the roles he\u2019d been playing in<\/p>\n

the last few years, it had been a lot <\/em>of girls.<\/p>\n

Finn shook his head. \u201cI don\u2019t think I like where this is<\/p>\n

going.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said once that it\u2019s all part of the job. Meaning, he\u2019s pretty much a professional kisser.\u201d If anyone was going to be able to give me pointers, it was Cole Jericho.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop right there\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNope,\u201d I said, mind made up, \u201cthis is too brilliant. I\u2019m going to ask Cole to give me kissing lessons.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Finn<\/h3>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d The word was out of my mouth before I\u2019d had a chance to think about it. But the idea of some<\/p>\n

random actor giving Scarlett kissing lessons? Not going to happen.<\/p>\n

She shrugged and pushed her cute blue glasses further up the bridge of her nose. \u201cYou don\u2019t get a vote.\u201d<\/p>\n

I threw back the last of my mojito, then the rest of the one I\u2019d confiscated from her.<\/p>\n

That skinny guy with the try-hard beard had seemed like bad news, and I\u2019d been right. When she\u2019d answered the door, he\u2019d looked like he\u2019d wanted to throw her down on the floor there in the hallway. Scarlett was blond, gorgeous, and shaped like an old-time movie star, so part of me understood his attraction to her. But she was also much more than that, and deserved a guy who could appreciate all those parts of her, not see her just as a potential sex toy.<\/p>\n

While we\u2019d been waiting in the living room for Scarlett to finish getting ready, I\u2019d told the guy as much.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen,\u201d <\/em>I\u2019d said, my voice low so Scarlett didn\u2019t overhear. \u201cI know this is only your first date, but you\u2019re going to do me a favor and make it your last.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The guy had screwed up his face. \u201cWhy would I do that? She\u2019s hot.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I asked very nicely.\u201d <\/em>I\u2019d crossed my arms over my chest in a way I knew showed the results of visits to the university gym. Then I\u2019d smiled in a not altogether friendly way.<\/p>\n

The guy took a step back. \u201cWhoa. You two got something going on?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNope. Just like the two of you don\u2019t have anything going on. Right?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He took another step back. \u201cHow about you just tell her I had to go?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThat would disappoint her. She\u2019s dressed and ready, so you\u2019ll take her out. Once. And you won\u2019t mention this conversation<\/em>, either.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, sure.\u201d <\/em>He\u2019d edged closer to the door. \u201cYou know, man, I\u2019ve met a lot of roomies before, and I have to tell you, this is not a normal conversation.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Mission accomplished. Then Scarlett had appeared, poured into a too-short dress, her hazel eyes smoky with all the dark makeup around them, and she\u2019d walked out the door with a guy who didn\u2019t deserve her.<\/p>\n

It had been more complicated to track down her dates in the first few years of our friendship, and sometimes they\u2019d get to four or five dates before I could find the latest guy, assess him, and send him packing. Luckily, things had become much more streamlined since she\u2019d moved in.<\/p>\n

Of course, she\u2019d stab me in my sleep if she knew what I was doing\u2014probably with her favorite electric bread knife\u2014but it was worth the risk. She really needed to start picking a better class of guy. As soon as she started dating someone who could appreciate how awesome she was, I\u2019d let the relationship go forward, with my blessing.<\/p>\n

In the meantime, I\u2019d keep protecting her from the guys who were only after one thing.<\/p>\n

She stood and stretched, then pushed her blonde hair back behind her ears. \u201cYou finished my mojito. I\u2019ll make some more.\u201d<\/p>\n

I checked my watch. \u201cIt\u2019s two a.m. Maybe we should stop.\u201d Before her plan got any crazier.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo a.m.\u201d Her face fell. \u201cThat\u2019s too late to call someone I don\u2019t know very well, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

A picture of Cole Jericho kissing Scarlett popped into my head and made me want to throw up. I had to clear my throat to get my voice to work. \u201cYou really want to kiss that actor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not listening.\u201d She pointed her index finger at me. \u201cI want to end my dry spell. To do that I need to get past the kissing date. To do that I need to improve my kissing. To do that <\/em>I need Cole to teach me. He was voted Australia\u2019s Sexiest Bachelor again this year, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sure, if you liked the obvious. Which, from her expression, maybe Scarlett did. \u201cBut he\u2019s only an expert at pretending <\/em>to kiss,\u201d I pointed out.<\/p>\n

She threw up her hands. \u201cWhat else do you want me to do, Finn? I need someone who will understand that I don\u2019t want to start something, just get some pointers. Cole\u2019s an actor, he\u2019ll understand that. What else can I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cChoose me,\u201d I heard myself say.<\/p>\n

She blinked. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

This might have been a stupid move, but it was better than the alternative. \u201cYou don\u2019t need Cole. If you want to go ahead with this crazy plan, I\u2019ll give you kissing lessons.\u201d<\/p>\n

As her mouth opened then stayed that way\u2014and my lungs stopped working\u2014I realized I\u2019d probably just landed myself in a monster-sized pile of trouble.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Finn Factor Read Excerpt Reviews Extras Back to Books Buy at iBooks, Amazon, Barnes & Noble   Chapter One…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":75,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/82"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=82"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/82\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":207,"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/82\/revisions\/207"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/rachelbailey.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=82"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}