I wince, my skin drawing tight. “I know. I’m sorry about that, too.”
“I know you are.” Chess glances back at me. “It really upset you tonight, though.”
My insides roll and the anger returns. “We were dancing, for fuck’s sake. It was... nice. I hate that some asshole ruined it.”
She doesn’t look away from me. “How do you stand it? People always wanting a piece of you?”
Oddly, no one has ever asked me that. “The payoff is worth it. Usually.”
She bites her bottom lip. “I don’t know if I could stand it.”
It’s as if she’s pulled the rug out from under my feet. I clutch her arm to keep steady. “I’ll try to shield you from it, Chess. The best I can.”
“But you can’t, Finn. Not really.”
I don’t know what to say. She’s right. And it scares me. I hate being afraid. It isn’t an emotion I want to be familiar with. She could leave over this. Could I blame her?
Her brows knit. “It’s something I’ll have to learn to deal with on my own, if I’m with you.”
My face feels stiff, my voice stuck in my throat. “I guess it is.”
She nods again, staring at the sea.
Arguments, persuasive and impassioned, flow through my head. But I don’t say a word. I’m stuck there, standing in the sand. Some things I cannot change, no matter how much I want to. The fame that comes with football is one of them. If I do my job correctly, fame is something that will stick with me for a long time. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t want that, even if fame comes with hassles. Because fame means I’m still in the game, that football still needs me.
I want to explain these things to Chess. But I can’t find it in me to speak.
She’s so still, I have no idea what’s going on in her mind. But then she moves, and I’m strung so tight, I almost flinch.
She takes a step closer and her hand cups my cheek. I find myself leaning into her touch as she rises on her toes and brushes her lips over mine. “The payoff is worth it, Finn.”
I release a breath, and then haul her into my arms. I lean down, nuzzle the warm curve of her neck. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you believing that, Chester.”
Sixteen
Chess
JamesTTwerk:Can we have dinner tonight?
I look up from my phone to Finn, who is at my side as we drive home from the airport. It feels strange now, coming home. I don’t really know what to expect. It was one thing when we were friends dancing around our attraction to each other. There is safety in pretending.
How do we go on now? We’re both amateurs, really. Finn with a long history of casual sex, and me with my inability to go beyond one or two dates with a man.
“What’s up?” he asks me, his attention mainly on the road. He has a deep tan now, the ends of his hair almost blond from the sun.
“James wants to have dinner with me tonight.” I tell Finn because I know that’s what couples do: inform each other of their plans. But part of me feels stifled. Do I have to gain his permission?
Finn glances at me, and a wry smile tugs at his mouth. “Why are you glaring at me? You think I’ll object or something?”
Grimacing, I lean my head against the window. “I don’t know.” My hand reaches for him, resting on his strong thigh. Ifhe’s near, I want to touch him, even when my mind is a mess. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”
He sets his warm hand over mine and gives me a squeeze. “You think I do? The likelihood of me fucking up here is fairly high.”
I smile. “Thanks for the warning.”
He gives my hand a pat. “Remember that when you get the urge to yell at me later.”
“Maybe I’ll be the one to fuck up.”