Four hours later, her numbers started strong for the chess match and kept climbing. Aury liked one of the contenders and didn’t care much for the other. She tried to keep her commentary neutral, but her natural snark slipped in a few times. Especially when the player she wasn’t wild about entered a questionable line — a tactical disaster waiting to happen. Then, when he actually played the losing move, she couldn’t help herself.
“He’s dead and doesn’t even know it. Three more moves and it’ll hit him, mate in seven.”
She walked viewers through the correct continuations before the stronger player made them, calling the next move with flawless accuracy. One prediction after another. When the match ended exactly as she said it would, she stood and performed a happy little dance on the stream.
Her layout had the board on half the screen, her on the other, and small windows in the corners showing the two competitors’ expressions in real time — not large, but clear enough to track emotion shifts and tilt.
She closed the live out, handled a private lesson with one of her regular adult students, obsessed with obscure endgame studies he wasn’t likely to ever encounter, and then a teen prodigy with anger management issues who got royally pissed at himself for making suboptimal moves.
When she wrapped up for the day, her clips had gone viral. Social media was flooded with her tactical breakdowns and predictions, and she had nearly thirty thousand more subscribers than she’d had two hours earlier.
Axel hadn’t texted yet, and she wondered if he was up — and if he’d had to go back to his place and masturbate after getting her off and her not reciprocating. Her face flamed hot at the thought of his hand wrapped around his length, stroking himself, and she shook her head at her reaction. She should feel guilty for not taking care of him. Not horny. Right?
She had dinner with Ruby at their favorite ramen place, and Axel was standing outside the restaurant when they exited.
“Oh, that’s not creepy at all,” Ruby said, but Aury’s heart went all warm and fluttery, and she stepped into his arms.
“Give me a hug,” Ruby told her. “I’m not going to see you for two fucking days.”
She pulled out of Axel’s arms, turned and hugged Ruby, and kissed her cheek. “Iknowyou’ll kick ass to close out the swamp this weekend, but I’ll miss you at the party tomorrow night.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Go. Spend time with your man.”
“You only have me for about an hour,” he told Aury when it was just the two of them, with Ruby fast-walking back to her apartment. She wasn’t late, Ruby is always early, but once she was focused on the Swamp again, not much else would be going through her head.
“You have plans?”
“Marco has a small job for me. Something I can’t talk about, but it’s part of the price of admission, and I knew it coming in.”
“Okay. I’d planned to go home tonight, so I can get started redoing a beginner lesson to replace one that’s nearly seven years old. It’s cool. I can use a night in the hot tub with my e-reader.”
But secretly? She was disappointed. She’d looked forward to an evening with him.
* * * *
Aury had possibly too much fun turning herself into Beth Dutton the following evening. She went to her stylist to have her dirty-blond hair fixed exactly like Beth’s, complete with loose curls and the feathery sides that framed Beth’s sharp cheekbones. Then to Ruby’s place with everything she’d need for the evening, and she carefully applied her makeup to match the gold-dress scene: smoldering eyes, contour, and the exact shade of lipstick, if the makeup sites had it right.
The dress wasperfect. Skintight, gold, and it hugged her curves like liquid metal. She used fashion tape to make sure the dress wouldn’t slip and show the push-up bra that gave her cleavage fordays.
She turned and looked at herself from all angles. No way would she dress like this unless it was Halloween, but it was a costume.
And shenailedBeth Dutton.
The boots went on last, and she practiced walking the length of Ruby’s apartment twice before taking them off. It was going to be a long night, and she’d be fine, but no need in front-loading her muscles too much.
She was adjusting one last curl near her temple when the doorbell chimed, and Aury opened the door to a living, breathing cowboy fantasy. Axel stood in the doorframe, dressed in the black jeans and western shirt, the ridiculous belt buckle catchingthe light — and in his hand,amassivebouquet of red roses springing from a colossal crystal vase.
His eyes went wide. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
Aury felt her own eyes grow big, and her heart swelled in her chest.So many roses.“Are those for me? Thank you! They’re beautiful!”
She needed to chill. “Come in, and put them on the island, please.Fuck, that’s a lot of roses.”
She looked down to his feet. Back up to his face. His boots looked were a little scuffed, and he had a beat-up jacket slung over one shoulder. But what got her most was the stunned, slow blink he gave her.
As if his brain had short-circuited somewhere betweenJesusandfuck.
Finally, he moved like someone trying not to trip over his own tongue, and set the bouquet on the island.