AllFreeNovel
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“My manager.” He pushes my hair behind my ear. “What should I tell her?”
“When is this happening?”
“Not until the spring.”
“Why the tech industry?”
“It’s full of people who have a hard-on for chess, apparently.”
It makes a surprising amount of sense. “Why do you have a manager?”
“All pro players do. You’ll need one, too.”
I won’t be a pro, Nolan. You know it.“Would you recommend Elle?”
“Hell no. Save yourself.”
I laugh. “Can I . . . think about it? The charity thing.”
“Sure.”
We fall quiet, cocooned by the soft cotton of sheets, impossibly close.Did last night really happen?I wonder, feeling stuck in a dream.Did it happen to you like it happened to me?
Then he murmurs, “Good morning,” while pressing a kiss on my forehead, and it all starts to seem warm, and precariously good, and true.
NOLAN HAS NO POKER FACE. NO ABILITY TO LIE, OR TRICK, ORhide. No intention to, either.
He tracks my movements with a small smile whenever I step away from the chessboard to grab a glass of water. He kisses me against the fridge while the three GMs are talking about the French Defense five feet from us. He takes my hand and pulls me out for a walk in the snow as the sun is about to set, like healthy habits are something he suddenly cares about.
I wish I could say I minded, but I love every second of it.
There’s a curious, painfully honest confidence about him. Last night was good,reallygood, but it was also his first time,ourfirst time: messy and imperfect, full of hushed questions and trials and errors. His hands on me were bold, but inexperienced and tentative. Other guys would be drowning in their fragile masculinity today, but Nolan just seems deeply, genuinely happy.
Then again, remembering the sounds I made, the gasps . . . I guess he got glowing feedback.
“Can’t believe he used an Evans Gambit three years ago,” he says about the Koch game we just analyzed. His footprints in the snow are almost twice as large as mine.
“Yeah, well. It was a bad choice, since Thagard- Vork destroyed him.”
“Still. I haven’t seen the Evans since the week I learned how to play.”
I smile. “When was that, by the way?”
“What?” He gives me a curious look.
“Whendidyou learn to play chess?”
“I don’t remember. Pretty sure it’s on Wikipedia.”
“Yeah. But unlike my sister, I refuse to read it. Boundaries and stuff.” I stop him with a tug on his coat. I’m wearing his gloves, because it’s freezing and I forgot to bring mine. They dwarf my hands, and Nolan smiles at the sight. “But I still want to know.”
“I was . . . five? But I didn’treallyunderstand. Not until I was well over six.”
“Your grandfather taught you?”
“Kind of. He was training a lot of people at the time, and I just . . . I wanted to be in the midst of things. He was the coolest person I knew, and I wanted him to pay attention to me.”
“And your parents didn’t want you to?”
