Page 36 of Chess Not Checkers
“The bet was aboutbaking,” I emphasize. “And I’m not cooking for you, either. I’m sharing leftovers. That’s very different.”
He opens the door to the facility for me, letting me walk through first. The night air is cool and balmy. There aren’t many students out on the grounds, making it feel more peaceful than usual.
“If you say so,” he replies. “Will your roommates be home?”
“Oh, um, let me check.” I pull out my phone.
I hadn’t thought of them. While I know the girls would be supportive, I’m not sure I want to hear their teasing if I show up with Shepherd. Thankfully, a glance over the schedule shows they’ll all be out.
“Saylor is at a gallery event for a friend, Aurora is at the dance studio, and Marigold put that she was writing in the library until they kicked her out.”
Shepherd laughs. “Sounds like an interesting array of roommates.”
“They’re the best.” I smile. “I can’t believe I got so lucky.”
I wonder if they think the same thing of me, or if they’re just glad for a free place to live. A twinge of anxiety tears through the bubbly feeling I had before.
“I’m sure they think they’re the lucky ones if they get to eat your food all the time,” Shepherd comments as we wind our way through the campus buildings.
“I do pretty much all the cooking,” I say with a smile.
“They’re never going to let you stop. After your pastries, I’m afraid to try more of your food. I think it will ruin the meals I make.”
“It won’t be hard to do that. They were the saddest containers of food I’ve ever seen,” I say, not at all dramatically.
“Hey, they aren’t so bad. Teriyaki sauce can cover many a mistake.”
I shake my head. “You have to learn to cook. It’s a vital life skill.”
“OrI hire you to be my private chef. Can you start tomorrow?”
I laugh, and I realize how often I do that around Shepherd. Even when he’s being ridiculous—sometimes especially then—he makes me laugh with ease.
“That’s not learning. What if you lose all your fancy football money? You can’t hire a private chef then.”
He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Fine, I’ll learn, but only if you teach me.”
My brows shoot up. “You want me to teach you to cook?”
“I’ll teach you how to be better at chess, and you teach me how to cook. Seems like a fair trade.”
I tip my head to the side. “That’s not a terrible trade.”
He grins and stops on the walkway to hold out his hand. “Do we have a deal, Chef Jasmine?”
I shake my head. “Not a chef.”
“Yet,” he amends, and waves his hand in front of me. The tiny little word makes my heart jump.
I roll my eyes and slide my palm against his. “Deal.”
Shepherd squeezes my hand, engulfing it in his larger one. Warmth trickles from the spot he’s touching all the way through my body. I pull my hand back, suddenly unsure if the deal I made was too hasty. More moments with Shepherd means more of these feelings. And neither of us has time for those.
Chapter twenty
Not Alone
Shepherd Kingsley
