The Hot Shot

by Kristen Callihan

  A humorless laugh huffs out of me. “Yeah, well, I was tempted. But that would have caused a shitstorm. It’s easier to manipulate the situation with kindness.”

  “You’re amazing,” she says. But her expression is troubled.

  I touch her cheek, tucking back a stray lock that whips in the wind. “I’m sorry about that. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I can’t guarantee that. Fuck, it probably will.”

  Chess curls a finger into the belt hoop of my jeans. It’s a small touch, but I feel it like an anchor. Again, she watches the waves. “They’ve already taken pictures of me. Remember?”

  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 fucks 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 actually clutch her wrist to keep steady. For a second, I concentrate on breathing. “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. And 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 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.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chess

  * * *

  JamesT.Twerk: 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 was a bit of 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. If he’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 takes 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.”

  Smiling too, 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.”

  “Maybe,” he agrees, a cheeky grin lightening his expression. “Be forewarned, I like to dole out punishment in the form of cunnilingus.”

  A laugh burst from me. “Consider me forewarned.”

  “I’d like to say it will hurt me more than it hurts you, but that would be a lie.”

  He makes it too easy to smile, to laugh. Because he’s there, and he’s warm and strong, I rub my thumb along his thigh. I love the way it tenses and he moves it closer to me. I watch those big, long thighs part and my gaze goes to swell between his legs. He fills out his jeans well.

  My naughty half wants to move my hand there and rub that big bulge, make him hard. I picture it, leaning down, taking him out of his jeans—

  “Chess.” Another squeeze on my hand. “You’re going to get us run off the road.”

  My faze flicks up to his heated expression and then back down to where he’s growing thicker. I lick my lips and he groans.

  “Chess…”

  “Sorry.” I take my hand away from temptation.

  Finn gives me a sidelong glance as he shifts a bit in his seat. “Don’t ever be sorry about that. And, if I had any confidence that I could actually drive safely while you sucked my cock, I’d be all over that.”

  I laugh. And it feels good. But my mood quickly sobers. “My insurance money came in. All of it. I can buy a new place now.”

  The car goes quiet. Finn clenches the steering wheel. “You waited until I was driving to tell me that, didn’t you?”

  “Why would I do that?” But guilt rushes over my skin like a hot, itchy rash.

  His long speaking look makes it worse. “So I wouldn’t be able to persuade you with my best weapons.”

  He’s right. Whenever he gets his hands on me, I can’t think straight.

  I glance at the road, watching traffic. “You’d try to persuade me?”

  He makes a noise in his throat. “You serious? I’ve been dreading you leaving. You think that would change now that we’re together?”

  “No. But maybe we—”

  “Don’t say it,” he warns.

  “Should,” I finish. “Things can get complicated.”

  “Then let’s keep them simple.”

  So stubborn.

  “We just got together,” I say. “We should take time to get to know each other. What if we start living in each other’s pockets and find out we get on each other’s nerves?”

  He scoffs. “We’ve lived to together for weeks, Chess. That discovery time has come and gone. We’re awesome as roommates and even better as lovers.”

  The traffic comes to a stop when we reach a red light, and he turns to face me. His big body overwhelms the space. I can scent the soap he used in the shower. The soap I lovingly ran over every tight muscle while I’d showered with him this morning.

  Finn’s eyes meet mine, and I see the knowledge of what we do to each other in there. I see other things as well, feelings that make my chest tight and my cheeks heat.

  “I’m crazy about you,” he says softly. “I don’t need time to figure that out.”

  “I’m crazy about you too,” I whisper. “I’m just scared.”

  Before I can blink, he leans in and gives me a firm kiss. It’s more tender than sexual. I need that more right now. How does he know to do that?

  He pulls back and cups my cheek. “We’re going to be okay.”

  A horn honking makes us both jump. Finn’s smile is brief. “See? Discussing this in the car sucks. I’d totally be taking your clothes off
if we were at home.”

  “My regret is an ocean.”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Besides,” I say, “I’m going out to dinner with James when we get home.”

  “Right.” Finn can’t hide his disappointment. But it doesn’t last because the man is definitely not a quitter. He nods as if deciding something. “I’ll just have to fuck you later tonight.”

  “God.” I laugh, shaking my head, even as heat licks up my thighs. “I’ve created a monster.”

  “Babe, you have no idea.”

  * * *

  I should have known something was up as soon as James told me he was treating me to dinner at Lüke. He knows full well I love the desserts there, and become a content, purring pussycat after eating one.

  But no, I’d been so distracted by my anticipation over said desserts that I let myself be lulled into a false sense of security.

  “Look at you,” James says, as we sit down at a tiny table by the window. “You’re freaking glowing.”

  “It’s a suntan.” I scan the menu, bypassing the dinner section. “Oh, they have steamed chocolate tonight.” Orgasm in the Form of Chocolate should be the dessert’s formal title.

  “No…It’s not the suntan.”

  James peers at me for too long, and I fight the urge to raise my menu in front of my face. Instead, I return his stare with a bland expression. But it doesn’t work. He suddenly beams.

  “You fucked him!”

  A table of older businessmen turns our way.

  I glance at the men now snickering at us, give them a death glare that has them looking away, and then lean in to hiss at James. “Would you keep it down? I like this restaurant. And you cannot tell I had sex with Finn by looking at me.”

  “You just blushed bright red,” James points out.

  Fuck.

  “All right, Miss Marple, I had sex with Finn. Can we eat now?”

  “We don’t have any food to eat yet. And if you’re going to make me a Christie detective, make me Poirot.”

  “I knew you had a Poirot thing! With all those hats and bowties.”

  James gives me a level look. “Are you sure you aren’t Miss Marple?”

  “Truthfully, I’d love to live a Miss Marple life when I’m older. Settle down in a quaint English village, rife with murder and deceit and afternoon teas.”

  James rests his chin in his hand. “I’ve missed you, Chessie bear.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  James has been in New York more than he’s been in New Orleans. At this point, I see Finn more than I see James.

  “That’s it?” James says now, his feathery red brows lifting in outrage.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He huffs. “You’re not going to tell me anything about Finn?”

  “God. When do I ever give you details?”

  I swear the man’s bowtie trembles with ire. He practically leans across the table. “Since you nailed Finn Mannus.”

  “At least you whispered this time,” I mutter. “Please tell me this isn’t about Finn being famous.”

  “You wound me, Chess.” James sniffs. “This is about you finally getting what I know you’ve wanted since you met him. The fact that I’ve had a tiny crush on him for years is just frosting on the cake. But can you blame me for wanting to know? I mean, come on, have you seen him?”

  “Oh, I’ve seen him,” I can’t help but say, fighting to maintain a straight face.

  “Bitch,” he says with a smile.

  “Do I have to remind you that you’re in a relationship, James?”

  His teasing expression fades. “No.”

  I glance at him sharply, and James fidgets with his bowtie. “What?” I say, because that fidget never bodes well. “God, did you break up?”

  “What? No.” James sounds horrified. He exhales as if pulling himself together. “No, nothing like that… Chess.” He reaches for my hand.

  I pull away, my heart suddenly thumping. “Why are you saying my name as if someone died?”

  “Chess,” he says again, pained. “I’m moving to New York.”

  The words hang over us like a fug, as I stare at my best friend in frozen silence. My face feels too hot, my eyes scratchy. “You’re moving?”

  “Yes. I love Jamie. I don’t like being away from her.”

  “You’re moving.”

  I’m stuck on repeat, but can’t seem to snap out of it.

  He takes my hand then, and I feel how clammy his skin is. “I found my person, Chess. After all the searching. After empty nights of wondering if I should swear off women or swear of men, I found someone. I don’t want to wait or take things slow. I want it all now.”

  “All?” I rasp. My mouth is dry. I hear him. Of course, I hear him. But my mind won’t move past the fact that he’s leaving.

  James gives me a small but hopeful smile. “Marriage, a dog named Sue, maybe even kids.”

  James is telling me this. James who has scoffed at convention his whole life. James who once said having kids wasn’t for everyone—wasn’t for people like us, he’d implied. I run a hand through my hair and find my forehead damp.

  In silence, James looks back at me, his eyes wide, his skin pale against the red of his hair. He’s leaving me. He won’t be here if things don’t work out with Finn. He won’t be here if things do. I won’t have him to talk to when I work or when I’m worried.

  “Chess…”

  I blink out of my fog, and realize James is biting his lip. My sweet, funny friend is in love. He deserves this and more. My chair scrapes over the floor as I jerk to my feet. James watches me with clear trepidation that turns to surprise as I lean across the table and cup his cheek in my hands before giving him a big, smacking kiss. “I’m so happy for you,” I tell him.

  He laughs a little, letting out a gusty breath. “Jesus, I thought you were going for a Godfather II kiss of death reenactment or something.”

  I sit back in my chair. “What, the ‘I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart.’”

  “‘You broke my heart!’” James intones with feeling.

  We laugh like loons, but inside my heart truly is breaking a little. Change is rushing up like a rising tide against me, and I am unmoored.

  * * *

  Finn

  * * *

  Since I really don’t want to mope around the apartment, waiting for Chess to come home from her night out with James, I decide I’ll go out to dinner too.

  I call Jake, who informs me that Dex, Rolondo, and one of the tight ends, North will be joining us. Oh, and we’ll be eating at Rolondo’s house. I really don’t care what we do as long as I’m out.

  Like me, Rolondo lives in a condo. His is in the Central Business District. Located on the fifteenth floor, the place looks like something straight out of Versailles with French style woodwork painted pale gray, mirrored walls, and ornate crystal chandeliers.

  “Jesus, Ro,” I say, as he leads me into a white kitchen with black and white checker pattern floors. “I feel as though I should have dressed for the occasion.

  Dex is leaning against a counter and drinking a beer. “‘Londo has always been particular about his place. And by particular, I mean anal as all hell.”

  “A man’s home is his castle,” Rolondo intones.

  I accept the beer Rolondo hands me. “I don’t think you’re supposed to take that literally.”

  Dex snickers just as the doorbells rings again.

  “Jealous bitches,” Rolondo says before he goes to answer the door. But his voice echoes in the hall. “You keep it up and see if I share my ribs.”

  “Shit,” Dex mutters. “That’s his mom’s recipe. You don’t want to miss out on those ribs.”

  I don’t doubt that. The kitchen is fragrant with the scent of slow roasted meat and spices. My mouth waters a little.

  It’s weird, I’m almost at a loss of how to act. Jake and I are tight. But I haven’t hung out socially with the others very much. Dex is stiff
too, clutching his beer like he wants to crush the bottle. I don’t know him well enough to tell, but he seems low. Given that there’s a bounty on his virginity, and the press has been hounding him, I’d say he has a right to be. Funny thing is, I know without a doubt that the big guy is not a virgin. Not after the way he talked about his woman’s panties.

  It pisses me off the way the press has been treating him. To make matters worse with Dex, someone stole his phone and put nude pictures of his girl up on social media. When I think about someone doing that to Chess, the level of rage I feel scares me. I don’t know how he deals with it.

  In the hall, I hear Jake blabbing about something and North’s voice joining in. Rolondo leads Jake and North into the kitchen.

  “Shit, it’s like a wake in here.” Jake glares around. “You two fighting or something?”

  Dex straightens, his brows lifting. “No. The fuck, Ryder?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” I tell Dex. “He lives for drama.”

  “Nope. I just happen to have four—”

  “Sisters,” we all say as one.

  “We know,” I add with an eye roll. “We all know.”

  Jake wrenches a beer out of the fridge and snicks the cap off, glowering. “I do not repeat myself that often.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Rolondo mutters, as he checks on something in the oven.

  “Fuck,” North leans in. “Is that macaroni and cheese?”

  “And cornbread,” Rolondo adds.

  “I’m hanging at your house more often.” North is new, having signed at the beginning of this season. The lucky bastard was a free agent at the time and a superstar. Since our team was desperate for a good tight end, he basically got to write his paycheck.

  Then he promptly got hurt and has only just gotten back to being healthy. Something we all need, since he makes plays.

  Rolondo goes about finishing dinner, ordering Dex to get the plates since he’s been here often, Jake to cut the cornbread, and for me and North to get the hell out of the way.