Page 35 of Trust Me

“Not a chance.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Why not?” I press, finishing off the dishes in the sink.

“Because since I quit doing competitions, it’s something I like to do alone,” she supplies.

I could accept her answer and move along, but I don’t. “I think you’re afraid I would destroy you, and that’s your bullshit excuse.”

Her mouth drops, her shoulders squaring as she attempts to stand up a little taller. “Fine, let me change and then we can play.”

I want to tell her she looks fine, fucking fantastic if you ask me, but I don’t say that. “If you’re not back out here in five minutes, I’ll conclude you’re forfeiting, dolcezza.”

“Yeah, okay,” she mutters under her breath, turning to walk down the hallway to her room. I shamefully stare at her ass the entire time until Buttercup jumps onto the island.

“Hey, sweet girl,” I coo, putting my hand out for her to nuzzle her head into. She does so, her soft orange fur rubbing into my palm. Blossom and Bubbles are chasing each other, zooming into the kitchen, making Buttercup jump down from the island to chase after her sisters.

I make my way to the chessboard set up on the table in front of the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, sitting in one of the chairs.

Jasmine returns with her hair in a low ponytail, curls falling over her breasts that are covered by her white long-sleeved top, paired with gray tights. She looks fucking good, the tight fabric hugging her lean body while accentuating her curves.

She doesn’t hesitate, sitting across from me with ease as she eyes up the board between us. “How long have you played for?” she asks, running a painted pink nail over the queen piece.

“Since college, actually. I was bored when everyone else was studying, and with the odd downtime from hockey, I wanted to challenge myself with something. I taught myself and found a club on campus to join.”

“So what you’re saying is that this is going to be like taking candy from a baby,” she muses, a glint in her eyes.

“Not in the slightest.” I smirk, loving that she’s competitive. It fires me up, my brain ready to tackle and solve the challenges in front of me.

The chess game and her.

Hours later, we’re still sitting at the chess table. We stopped once to use the washroom and have a quick lunch, which was leftover pasta from last night.

Our match has been back and forth, each of us eliminating key players off the board. Her queen and king are still intact, and one bishop. I only have my king left and two knights still in play.

I know the odds are in her favor to win as she has the queen in play, which in my opinion is the strongest piece on the board. Without it, the king is fucked.

We’ve mostly been quiet while we strategize our next moves, but we have been chatting here and there. We’ve shared stories from our childhoods, and Jasmine seemed to hang onto the stories I told about my sisters.

I know her dad mentioned that they never could have another child, and it seems like Jasmine shares that disappointment over not having a sibling. I cannot fathom my life without mine, so I could only imagine how hard it might have been to not have one at all.

I also learned that she doesn’t like getting flowers. At one point, I teased her that if I win, I’d buy her some to soothe the pain of losing, but she informed me that while she admires their beauty, she doesn’t like the idea of getting them because they end up dying.

She’d rather have a garden where she could tend and treat them properly.

It made my brain imagine things it did not need to imagine, like Jasmine kneeling, hands in the dirt as she planted flowers in our backyard.

But she’s not mine. And neither is this game. She’s destroying me.

With my two knights gone minutes later, it’s now become a game of my king trying to avoid her queen. The similarities to our current situation make me stifle a laugh. The board reminds me of myself as I try my best to avoid the temptation of her, staying as far away from the queen as possible.

We move like that for a little while until I have nowhere to go, and she overtakes my king, ending the game.

“Yes!” she cheers, standing up from the chair and spinning happily while clapping her hands. It’s fucking cute, and I hate that I love losing to her. I don’t enjoy losing, ever. “Want to go again?” she asks, and I’m surprised by her wanting to spend more time with me.

I’d have taken her up on her offer, but we really should do something other than sit at this table all day. “Rain check? My ego needs a break from that loss.”

She twists her lips, looking unsatisfied with my response. “That’s fine, I should get some content done today anyways.”

“I’ve been meaning to get started on helping you with that, so it’s perfect.”

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