Page 77 of Chess Not Checkers
Hearing those words through my car speakers makes my stomach swoop. “I felt the same way. I can’t believe I won.”
“I can. You’ve learned so much in a short period of time. I’m proud of you.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I don’t think I can take any more emotions tonight,” I say with a short laugh. “I cried with Grayson and then again talking to my sister.”
“Was it a good talk with Dahlia?”
I tell him everything as I drive back to campus. He listens intently, humming occasionally to let me know he’s still there. Eventually, our conversation shifts to the game tomorrow.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. We don’t ever play difficult teams on homecoming, but there’s still pressure around winning since the game is a huge celebration of the university and football program.
“I’m feeling good,” he answers. “I’ll feel better after we tell Bash.”
“Yeah, it was weird being around everyone and having this secret,” I say as I stop at a red light.
“Just one more day,” he promises. “Then we tell everyone.”
“One more day,” I agree with a smile.
We’ve made it this far—what’s one more?
Chapter thirty-eight
Pumpkin Muffins
Jasmine Chamberlain
I smile as I pop a muffin out of the tin and set it on a wire rack to cool. The scent of pumpkin spice and chocolate fills the air. Each muffin is a perfect orange, tinged around the edges with a touch of brown and accented with large sugar crystals that will add a sweet crunch to each bite. I got up extra early this morning to make them because I knew I wouldn’t have time later today.
Soon I’ll be cheering in the parade; then I’ll be at the tailgate with our mascot, Theodore the Thrasher, taking photos with fans. After that comes the game, and then some of the girls from the team begged me to go to an after-party with them, so I’ll head there. Since it’s going to be a busy day, I decided I would run by Shepherd’s dorm to drop off these muffins before I go to the parade. My first time baking for him, to celebrate the last day of our relationship being a secret.
And if I happen to run into anyone in his hall, I’ll hand them a muffin and say I’m giving them out to everyone for homecoming week. No one in college questions free food.
“What smells so good, and does it go with coffee?” Marigold asks as she stumbles into the kitchen with bleary eyes.
“Late night?” I ask her.
“You could say that,” she mutters as she plops onto one of the barstools.
Her red curls are sticking up everywhere, pushed back from her face by a soft black headband. She’s got on a faded green sweatshirt with a crackled white design. I squint at the logo. Is that…a hockey stick? My eyebrows raise as I recall Jameson’s hockey sweatshirt from the other day. If the two are connected, I’m certainly not bringing it up while she’s in this state.
“I’ll start the coffeeifyou eat one of the egg bites from the fridge and drink some water,” I negotiate with her. “And these are Shepherd’s muffins, but I’ve got a batch of cinnamon streusel with your name on them in the oven.”
I wanted to be able to tell Shepherd that these are, without a doubt, just for him. Owen might try to steal one, but I made them for Shepherd and Shepherd alone.
She sighs like I’m asking the world of her. “Deal.” Her ink-smudged hands lift to her face, and she rubs her eyes with a concerning amount of aggression. When she moves them away, she gasps. “Are those pumpkin chocolate chip?”
I smile as I head to the coffee maker. “Maybe.”
“You said they’re for Shepherd.”
“I did.” I bite my lip.
The barstool scrapes on the ground. I look over my shoulder in time to see Marigold banging on Saylor’s door.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “It’s six in the morning!”
I have to be at the starting point for the parade at seven thirty for line up, so I’ve been up for hours doing full glam plus hair and making two different types of muffins.
