Page 56 of The Hot Shot
Now I’m pissed. I feel it rising, and I grind my teeth against the urge to snap at her.
My hand spreads wide on the cool counter as I take a deepbreath. But then I catch a good look at Chess. She seems smaller somehow, tightly coiled within herself, her expression wan and her eyes a little wild.
“Are you trying to pick a fight?” I ask. Despite her prickliness, I know she’s fragile right now.
For a second, it looks as if she might snap at me, but her shoulders sag on a breath, and she puts her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I’m all persnickety, and... I don’t know what I’m saying. Ignore me.”
I want to give her a hug, but she holds herself tight, eyeing the hall as if she might cut and run. “You need to get back to normal, is all.”
She nods, but there’s no energy left in her.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” I say. “Let’s have lunch—”
“Lunch?” She makes an amused sound. “It’s only eleven.”
“Elevenses, then,” I amend. “I basically eat like a hobbit.”
She cranes her neck and peers over the center island that stands between us.
“Whatareyou doing?” I ask with a laugh.
“Checking out your feet.”
I wiggle my toes, still encased in sneakers. “They aren’t hairy, but they’re very large.” I lift a brow. “I’m well-proportioned.”
Chess scoffs, but she’s no longer slumped in defeat. “Yes, I know, big guy. I’ve seen you naked, remember?”
“How can I forget when you keep bringing it up?”I can get naked now, if you’ll join me.“If I didn’t know better, Ms. Copper, I’d think you were fixating.”
“Good thing you know better.” Chess rounds the kitchen island and comes up beside me. She’s so slight compared to me, her wrists delicate and fine. The black cast covering her right one is bulky, running up over her hand, leaving only her fingers free. I don’t miss the bruising on her forearm, and the way she’s been limping makes me believe she has bruises elsewhere.
I want to demand that she show me her hurts, let me gather her up and tuck her back in bed, where I’ll feed her lunch, rubher sore muscles, do anything she wants. But I know she’ll refuse. And I don’t think it would ease her worries, which is what she truly needs right now. Never mind the fact that, if I get into a bed with her, my control will crack. No way can I hold her now and keep my hands at neutral.
I push the thought of exploring Chess out of my mind. “After elevenses, we’ll go and buy you a new camera and some equipment. Get you set back up for work.”
She rests her slender fingers on the edge of the counter. “Thanks, but I don’t get a check from the insurance for a few weeks.”
“Which is why I’m buying.”
A frown works over her face, and I lift a hand. “You can pay me back when you get your check.”
“Or I can wait,” she argues. “I’m already staying here. You bought me clothes. I can’t take more—”
“Chester, I make an obscene amount of money and spend it on very little. You and I both know that. Let’s not pretend you’re putting me out monetarily.”
“We’re talking about nearly thirty thousand dollars of equipment, Finn.”
“I am aware. Makes no difference to me.” When she rolls her eyes, I lean in. “Helping you get back on even ground makes me happy. All right?”
“Maybe I don’t want to be on even ground. Maybe I want to mope.”
I don’t buy it for a second. I see the anticipation in her eyes. The girl is dying to get a camera back in her hands. “Too bad. The House of Mannus also has an anti-moping law in effect. Violators are subject to noogies and loss of TV time for one day.”
Chess looks at me as if I’m full of it. Which I am, but she clearly likes that. “Any more rules I should know?”
“They’re all in the playbook, located on your bedside table.” I open the fridge and pull out some roasted beets, goat cheese, and bulgur salad.
Chess watches me with bemused interest. “This looks... elaborate. You cooked all this?”
