Check & Mate

Guilt and responsibility are heavy burdens, Mallory. But they’re also something we can hide behind, and now you can’t do that anymore. You are free to do what you love. Which might be never thinking about chess against and moving to Boulder to be with Easton. It might be becoming an auto mechanic. It might be taking a year off to backpack around the world. It can be whatever you want— but it has to be your decision. Your choice, free of constraints. And to do that, you’re going to have to look into yourself, and be honest about what you want. And yes, I know that’s terrifying. But life is too long to be afraid.”

“I’ve got you, Mallory. Nothing bad is going to happen. You can let yourself want this, because you already have it. You have me.”

Chess is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Look where it got me.”

“It got you here. To me.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks, but his tone is matter-of-fact, not suggestive. He doesn’t mean it like that. He means . . . I don’t even know.

“Because when I’m with you, Mallory, everything is different. When I’m with you, I want to play more than I want to win.”

It’s on his nightstand, preserved like a trophy. He brought it from Toronto, to Moscow, to his apartment in New York, to here. Warmth spreads in my stomach

Are you real?” The air between us swells, overflows. “Sometimes I’m scared that I imagined you. Sometimes I think you’re only in my head.”

“I’m here,” I

I remember how much Nolan hates the Grünfeld only after he groans and sinks his teeth into my earlobe

But then he does something. Tilts his head, maybe. Adjusts his grip. Presses more firmly against me, and it all changes. His ship crashes into mine and my back is flat against the wall, and oh, he wants it. He wants it very, very much. He wants it as much as I do. I can tell from his leg sliding between mine and pinning me to the wall, from the way his hand shifts to my hip, assertive like on a chessboard. From the guttural sound in the back of his throat

“I’ve got you, Mallory. Nothing bad is going to happen. You can let yourself want this, because you already have it. You have me.”

“Of course. Why else— Oh.” I close my eyes again. “Oh.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“But our game— ”

“I resign. You win. Can I kiss you?”

“No! I mean . . . why?”

“Because I want to.”