Page 132 of The Hot Shot
Her lip quirks, as she hands me a cold bottle of beer. “Enough. What was it North said? Don’t talk in public if you don’t want to be overheard.”
She heard it all. I take a long pull on my beer and try to runthrough all of North’s lecture. None of it puts Chess in a good light. “North is coming off a bad marriage.”
Chess stands beside me. “I heard. Meghan says he got married too young, before he could know his own mind.”
“Jesus, gossip is rampant in this organization. With everyone doling out advice like they’re Dear Abby.”
Amusement lights her eyes. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived.”
I snort and take another drink. Something uncomfortable buzzes between us. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. Knowing she’ll follow, I start to walk toward the pool house. It’s dark and abandoned right now. That doesn’t stop me from trying the door.
Thankfully, it’s unlocked, and I walk in. Chess is a step behind me, a small wrinkle forming between her straight brows. “We’re not having sex in here,” she says. “That would be cliché.”
“I’d like to say I have better game than that, but we both know I’d be up for sex anywhere you wanted it.”
My joke falls flat as Chess strolls around the darkened room. There’s just enough light to see her shadowy form and the glint in her eyes as she turns back toward me. “Then why are we here?”
“Something’s going on with us,” I blurt out. “Everything feels off since we got here.”
Chess walks back toward me, until she’s illuminated by the outdoor sconces that flank the pool-house doors. “I feel it, too.”
“Then talk to me.”
Chess lets out a tired sigh. “I don’t know where to start.”
“At the beginning.”
Slowly, she shakes her head as if trying to clear it. “Finn, you’re my best friend but—”
“No, I’m not,” I cut in.
Chess gapes at me.
“You’re not?” she repeats, pissed.
I want to kiss her. I refrain. Barely. “I have a best friend. It’s Jake.”
Her delicate nostrils flair. “Fine. Then James is mine.”
“I know this.” I take a step closer.
“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.” She sneers. “Asshole.”
I grin, which really pisses her off. I ignore that too and take another step. “I know Jake is my best friend, because I don’t want to fuck him.”
“Lucky for Jake,” she mutters, glaring up at me.
“I don’t miss him the second he’s out of my sight,” I add.
Her eyes narrow, her gaze darting over my face in growing confusion.
I’m so close now, the tips of her breasts brush my chest when we both take a breath. “I don’t need to hold him, need to see him just to know that he’s okay, that he’s comfortable and happy before I can relax.”
The anger in her eyes turns to something softer.
I touch the curve of her jaw, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “We are not best friends, Chess. We are more. You are my everything. The reason I get up each day.”
She melts toward me. “Finn...”
