Page 13 of Chess Not Checkers
He gives another sharp nod before walking back toward the edge of the field. As soon as he walks away, it dawns on me why he made the rule: Jasmine. He doesn’t want us dating one of his family members. Which is understandable, but probably doesn’t warrant threatening to bench us. He’s usually much more levelheaded and practical than that, but I know he’s also incredibly protective about the people he loves.
“The last time I saw Coach that mad was when Diego got drunk and stole the campus security golf cart,” Cade says quietly.
“He doesn’t want us to be distracted on the field,” I say. “If we’re going to win the national championship, we can’t afford to be staring at the sidelines.”
The guys nod as if what I’m saying makes sense. It does, but I know the truth. As team captain, though, I can’t have the rest of the guys questioning Coach’s judgment. I understand because I’ve known him since he coached my brother, but the others may not get it.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Aaron says with a shrug. “Plenty of other women out there.”
Cade nods in agreement. “I’m not losing my chance at a natty over a girl.”
“Yeah, that would be stupid,” I say, thinking of Jasmine.
Given her general disdain for me, I didn’t think anything would actually happen between us, but…it was nice to have the possibility. My future is more important, though.
I have a legacy to live up to. Jason had a perfect college record. Multiple national championships, and now he’s won several Super Bowls. Every time I blink, I’m compared to him. There’s no room for error. I not only have to be just as good as him, but better. If I don’t accomplish that, I’ll never have people talk about me formyaccomplishments. I’ll always be compared toJason, always be calledjunioras if he were my dad instead of my brother.
Teasing Jasmine is fun, but that’s all it is. And it’s not like I even have to stop doing that. We can be friendly rivals. There’s no reason that has to change.
Coach blows his whistle three times. “I want to see some DB work on the second string. We’re in Cover 2, and I better not see any completions out there. Junior, your call for the offense, but no run plays,” he orders.
Junior.My jaw clenches at his use of the nickname that got bestowed on me last season. I despise it. Just because I share the same last name as my brother, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be him.
I pull my helmet back on and run to center field. My focus sharpens. I dismiss all thoughts of Jasmine and chess club, instead focusing on the mind game that football is. This is all there is. All I am. Slipping up is not an option.
Chapter eight
Repulsive
Jasmine Chamberlain
I unlock and open the door to my apartment, then bend down to pick up the pan of tiramisu I made in pastry class yesterday. Once the dessert is safe in my arms, I walk over the threshold, then kick the door shut.
“I brought home dessert!” I yell out as I walk into the kitchen—and promptly scream.
There’s a man in our kitchen with mussed black hair, tipping a water bottle to his mouth with a lean, muscular arm. Or, it was, before I let out a screech akin to a car alarm. Now, he’s holding the water by his side while eying me likeI’mthe intruder. Saylor barrels into the room, blonde ponytail whipping about behind her.
Levi would be disappointed in my self-defense skills, because I stand frozen the entire time.
“He’s not a murderer!” Saylor clarifies in a loud voice.
The not-murderer looks amused at her choice of words.
“That’s good,” I breathe out. “Who is he?”
“Graham Clarke,” he answers, sticking his hand out. There’s a streak of royal blue paint across the back of his hand leading up to his veined forearm. “Nice to meet you.”
I slowly set down the tiramisu—thankful I didn’t drop it in the calamity—and shake his hand.
“You’re the artist friend Saylor was telling us about,” I say, and Saylor nods.
“Sorry for not warning you he was here. I needed help moving a bookshelf. I decided last night while I was studying that it would look better on the opposite wall of my room, but I didn’t want to take all the books off. Graham was my muscle.” Saylor smiles brightly at Graham. His expression is affectionate, but I can’t tell if it’s romantic or just friendly.
“Always happy to help.” He gives her a soft smile. “Do you need anything else? If not, I’m going to head back to my place. I’ve got a project due next week for my mixed-media class.”
“I’m all good. Thanks, Teddy Graham.” She throws her arms around his neck in an exuberant hug, tugging his tall frame down to her level. He hugs her back. I try to analyze how they feel about each other but fail. I wish one of the Carters were here. They’re all hyperobservant and would probably figure this out easily.
“Call me if you need anything else.”
