Page 106 of Over the Edge

“You don’t have to be alone in it. If you want me there, like we’ve been, I’m in.”

“Have you decided what you want to do with your contract?” he asks.

My stomach sinks as I pick up one of my knights. “Not yet. In the mean time all I want is to enjoy making this album.”

My fingers hover as I consider my next move then I reach for my next piece.

“Wait,” Garrett says, stopping me before I make my selection.

“What is it?”

“If you make that move the game will end.”

“After two moves you can’t be serious,” I say in disbelief, but even so I pull back from the pawn.

“You move that piece and you give me a direct path for my queen.” My eyes snap to the board and trace the path he’s indicating when I look up his lips tug upward. “It’s called a Fool’s Mate. Or maybe you might be more familiar with the name Fool’s Gambit.”

“Are you telling me you named the band?”

“I might have made a suggestion.”

“And you chose a losing move?”

“It’s a move that makes you vulnerable. A risk. Sometimes you need to be brave enough to dream,” he says with a wistfulness that sounds like a memory.

Without hesitating, I pick up the piece and place it how I intended. Garrett counters with his Queen but from the gleam in his eye I know we’re on the same page. A risk worth taking. A dream worth having.

We continue to play. Well, I continue to lose over and over again while Garrett humors my efforts.

“What will you give me when I finally win?” I ask as I give in for the evening and reset the board a final time.

“So you can redeem it in a hundred years?”

“Rude.” I press my foot against his under the table.

He presses back, his eyes intensifying. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“You’re a brave man.”

“Based on the fact I’m already prepared to give you anything you want, I think I’ll survive.”

“You don’t really mean that. What if I ask you to grow a mustache or be a part of a flash mob?”

“Okay, you might have a point. Mustache maybe. Flash mob, I think those should never have been invented and I would happily live in a timeline without them.”

I throw my head back in a laugh as my phone chimes with an incoming text message.

Oliver

Do you have a minute?

Instead of texting back, I immediately call. Last time he played this exact scenario out, he was in the ER. He wasn’t hurt but hisroommate’s appendix had burst and he was trying to manage all of it by himself.

“I’ll be right back.” The words rush out of me as I climb to my feet. I nearly topple over, but catch myself on the arm of the couch because my leg feels like TV static after falling asleep from how I’ve been sitting.

I press the call button as I teeter into the hall and Oliver picks up on the first ring.

“You didn’t have to call,” Oliver says by way of greeting.

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