The Hot Shot (Game On #4)

Chess pauses, eyeliner in hand, and looks at me through the reflection of the mirror. “What does it matter where my stuff is? We sleep in the same bed.”


Technically, I suppose she’s right. But it’s been a week since we’ve returned from California. And call me an impatient man, but every time she veers off into this room to get dressed, I find myself worrying. The whole scene with Britt arriving on my doorstep hasn’t helped matters. I’d been afraid Chess would freak. But she’d treated Britt with compassion and a kindness that humbled me.

Even so, Chess has been withdrawn at times. I don’t know if it’s because of James leaving or it’s something more. And not knowing worries me too.

“It feels significant,” I tell her.

“Significant?” She runs the liner over her lid, a sweep of deep green done with a precision that fascinates me.

I love watching her do personal things no one else gets to see. And I know it’s the same for her. Every time I shave, Chess appears in the bathroom and sits on the counter as if settling in for a show.

“Yeah, significant,” I repeat. “As in you’re keeping this room as some sort of safe zone.”

Chess blinks at me as if I’ve spoken in a foreign language. But I know her too well now, which means I know when she’s stalling. I cross my arms over my chest and wait her out.

Slowly she sets her eyeliner down. “Sometimes I hate how perceptive you are.”

“It’s my job to read people.”

Chess turns around and leans against the counter. “You’re the first man I’ve ever lived with.”

“You’re my first too.” I give her a brief smile. “I like that about us, truth be told.”

“Caveman,” she says with a laughing huff.

“So we’ve established.”

Chess bites her lip with a bemused expression. “Don’t you ever experience any moments of doubt?”

Maybe I should be insulted by that, but I’m not. We’re more alike than she realizes.

“Of course. It scared the hell out of me when I realized that what I was feeling for you went beyond simple attraction or friendship. But Dex once reminded me that we have zero hesitation on the football field, and to hesitate in life is stupid.”

“Stupid?” She raises one delicate black brow.

“Well,…” I grin. “More like a waste of energy better spent on other things.”

Chess pushes off the counter and walks toward me. Heat coils low in my gut, my abs pulling tight in response. She wraps her arms around my neck and lifts up on her toes. Her kiss is sweet affection and lingering appreciation.

My hands slide to her peachy butt and give it a squeeze. Chess makes a small noise in her throat and leans into me, her tongue licking my lower lip like it’s candy.

A surge of lust goes through me, hot and thick, but I can’t help smiling against her luscious lips. “You wouldn’t be trying to distract me now would you, Chester?”

She gives me a little nip that goes straight to my cock, then pulls back enough to meet my eyes. “I don’t think you realize how irresistible you are, Finnegan.”

Her fingers trace lazy circles on my neck, and my lids lower as I dip down for another taste. She hums in pleasure. And we get a lost in soft, unhurried kisses before she speaks again. “Let’s say distraction is an added side bonus.”

I chuckled, then give her ass a light slap.

Chess yelps and glares. “One day, I’m going to spank your ass, Mannus, and we’ll see who’s laughing then.”

“Kinky, I like it.”

Chess cups my cheek. “Want to help me move my stuff?”

Smiling wide, I give her a swift kiss. “Okay, but let’s give this guest bed a nice send off first.”

She yelps as I wrap my arms under her butt and lift her high. We make it to the bed but just barely.



* * *



“I think we should change the mattress before your parents visit again,” Chess says as she hangs up a black dress. “Doesn’t feel right, imagining them sleeping on it after what we just did in there.”

I snicker and put down a hamper filled with her clothes. “I don’t know, I kind of want to put up a commemorative plaque. ‘On this site, Finnegan Mannus gave Chester Copper five orgasms and reduced her to tears of pleasure.’”

“I believe you were the one tearing up.”

“It was an emotional moment.”

She takes the basket from me. “Which drawers can I take?”

The closet is a large square with shelving on two walls, hanging racks on the other two, and a massive waist high dresser in the center.

“I’ve filled up the left side of the closet. Why don’t you take the right? Let me just clear out some old stuff from this drawer.”

“Sounds good.”

From a top drawer, I start taking out a mess of old ticket stubs and college game day programs—nostalgic shit I can’t seem to get rid of—and set them on the top of the dresser. “I’m thinking we should probably put a mirror in here. You know the kind that women use to put on earrings and shit? My mom has one in her closet—”

Chess make a soft sound, and I glance back. But she isn’t even looking at me. Her eyes are on the dresser top, her skin pale and her expression haunted.

It takes me a second to figure out what she’s looking at but when I do, my heart gives a painful lurch. Scattered among the papers, is a sonogram with the word “Peanut” scrawled across the top in vivid red pen.

The air in the room goes thin. I can hear my heart pounding, feel it trying to break free. But I can’t move.

Chess’s hand slips into mine. “Finn.”

My fingers convulse, gripping hers tight.

With her free hand, Chess reaches out, her fingers just dancing at the edges of the picture. “Can I?” she whispers to me.

Dully, I nod.

She handles the flimsy piece of paper as if it was precious glass, bringing it closer to look at the image. A shiver goes through me. I don’t want to touch it. But I can’t look away.