Page 40 of Checkmate (Checkmate 8)

“Ever?”

“Never. I don’t have time, I don’t have the inclination to sort through the losers, I don’t have the patience to sit through a shitty dinner that I’m probably not enjoying anyway. I count calories and macros, and there isn’t a single restaurant in a hundred-mile radius willing to give me the exact ingredient list for what they serve.”

“Not even the colonel?”

Shocked for a moment, speechless, what I thought was a serious conversation turns to a stolen smile. That smile turns to a laugh that makes my heart thud. “Especially not the colonel. All of those secret herbs and spices really screw with my diet.” I take a step back and firm my lips. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Griffin. I don’t date.”

“But you dreamed of me.” He steps in and replaces that space I took. “That means something, right?”

“I dreamed of a person with blue eyes, and then I woke up almost sick to my stomach. It felt like someone was studying me while I slept, like someone was in my apartment. I’m the most vulnerable while I sleep, and I’m not sure if you’ve figured this out yet, but I don’t enjoy vulnerability. My subconscious might recognize you, but it wasn’t a good dream.” I pat his arm and turn away. “Good luck with your plans to conquer the stock market or whatever. Make good choices.”

I push my cart along the aisle and act as though I’m totally okay, but then I slip into the next row and flatten my back against the shelves. I’m not okay. I have no clue who that man is, but if there was ever such a thing as two halves of one person, if there was ever proof of something more, I feel it right now. There’s something inside of me, a magnet of sorts, and it’s trying to send me north.

There’s a deeper power at play, a reason I’m dreaming of him, a reason his eyes are already burned into my brain.

But I don’t do vulnerability. I don’t do weaknesses.

Pull yourself together. Sack up and get back to business.

“Libby?”

I jump out of my skin and squeal when he pops his head around the corner of the aisle and gives a rueful smile. “This doesn’t have to be so scary. Adults get dinner all the time. Sometimes they fuck afterwards. We could do one or both, I won’t judge you.”

“Fucking?” Insecurity makes way for anger. “Are you insane? You were talking about dinner, and now you’re suggesting bed?”

“Doesn’t have to be a bed,” he answers quietly. “I’m partial to standing and fucking. Couch fucking. Car fucking. I enjoy the thrill of fucking on my desk, because my office is all windows, and I know people can see in if they have binoculars.”

“You’re a pig.”

“I know you like casual sex too. I know you like sex in general. A woman doesn’t have the kind of body you have unless they use it; in the gym, at work… in bed. I know you have a healthy sexual appetite, I can see it in your eyes. And since you don’t date, that implies sex for convenience. Where do you go, Libby? What places do you visit to get your hit?”

The face of myfriendpops into my mind. Drake is a cop from two towns over, and he likes casual sex too. We’re both career-minded, we loathe the idea of dependency, we love working out, we enjoy a fit body and know the work it takes to get one. He’s been the best thing that’s happened to me since… forever. He’s not my boyfriend, we don’t date or chitchat. But if I’m over his way, we meet up, and if he’s here, we meet up. When the timing is right, we make each other come, then we part again with a friendly ‘until next time.’

It’s been the perfect arrangement for years.

“You have a fuck buddy,” Theo whispers. He leans in close enough that the nosy cashier twenty feet away can’t hear. “I don’t wanna know his name, Lib. I don’t wanna know where he lives, who his people are, or the last time he got to touch what’s mine. But that’s done now.”

“What’s yours–” My eyes widen. “What?”

“You and him.” Theo’s blue eyes dart between me and the front door as though Drake is right here.

The irony is, if he was, there’s not much he’d do about the situation I’ve found myself in. If I sent out an SOS and said I was scared, he’d take care of business and remove me from the situation. But if it was a thing about jealousy… there’s none of that between us. We’ve both explored other things in the last few years, there are no hard feelings, no jealousy or greed. Every time we’ve tried to find someone else, we invariably end up in bed together because neither of us are looking for what those people who date are looking for. They want promises and forevers, and we mostly want to be left alone.

“That arrangement you have with whoever he is,” Theo continues. “It’s done now. If you want a casual fuck, you know where to find me.” His hand slides into my pocket, then out again to rest on my hip. “You want an audience while you get yourself off using a toy, you call me. Fuck knows I’d enjoy that just as much. If you wanna know what it feels like to come so hard you forget to be scared, you know where to find me. I’m not here to hurt you, Libby. But I’ll sure as fuck enjoy your body when you offer it.” He turns away with a flourish and leaves me panting against the shelves that hold therainbow Cheerios. “Eat the turkey, Lib. It’s good for you.”

I glance into my cart and frown at the trays of turkey I never put there, then I reach into my pocket and pull out a business card. It doesn’t have the lion logo I expect. Or a last name. Nor does it have an email address. It simply saysTheo, and below that, a phone number and an address in a city far from here.

These aren’t his typical business cards, but something else. Something a little more personal and, if I read him correctly, something a little more trusting.

I doubt Theo Griffin hands his address out to everyone as freely as he did just now. No doubt he’s made millions of dollars this weekend, and unlike my father, he did it legally. He’s not from my world, not even close. He’s neither criminal nor cop. He’s just… a person. A really rich person.

When that thought crosses my mind, and directly after that, fear that somehow his money will be linked to me and create suspicion amongst those who have a grudge against me, I tear the card into tiny pieces. I want to toss it to the floor and run away, but it has his address, and I can’t betray his trust like that.

I’ll be damned if anyone ever heard Theo Griffin and I were anything more than… well, strangers, or suggested I was a cop with less than stellar morals. I’ve worked too damn hard to risk anything casting doubt on me or my uniform. So I tear the card into as many pieces as my shaking hands can manage, then I take my phone out and call myarrangement.

“Hey, cutie.” Drake’s voice is like a ray of sunshine on a dreary day. “It’s been awhile. What’s shaking?”

“Ah…” My voice quivers, which enrages me. “Not much. I’m heading up your way tonight for work. You busy?”

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