Chapter Fourteen

Finn

R unning into Chessly in the Union was a gift I'd almost squandered when those freshmen surrounded me like a school of sharks. After my conversations with Bax during finals, and Tarvi and Fitz over break, I'd reached the conclusion I needed to back away from a certain group of girls no matter how willing they were to take care of me. Especially with how willing they were to take care of me.

Wanting to know Chessly better also might have had something to do with my change of heart.

Even bundled up in a bright pink puffy coat with the hood tied down tight to her head, she dazzled me. Skinny jeans emphasized her long legs. I remembered all too well how sweet those legs had felt wrapped around my hips on our way to dry-humping on the couch before the jersey chasers' untimely interruption. As we walked along, I reached down and discreetly adjusted the semi that had sprung up at the memory of that night.

When we reached Hillman Hall, I hustled ahead of Chessly to open the door. A tiny smile ghosted over her lips as she gazed up at me when she stepped inside. Stomping snow off our boots on the rug inside the door, both of us gave a little shiver at the change in temperature, from frigid January air outside to the toasty warmth of the building. Then with a purpose, Chessly headed off in the direction of the wide staircase bisecting the lobby and half-jogged up the stairs. I followed, unapologetically admiring the sway of her tight little ass. Probably a dick move and more than a little stupid if she glanced back and caught me, but damn, it was at eye level.

At the top of the stairs, she veered left, and I figured out our destination was the study carrels at the end of the hall outside the physics department.

"That's a miracle," she said as she zeroed in on a table near the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Walking half a step behind her, I asked, "What's a miracle?"

"My favorite table being open at this time of day. Usually, this nerdy grad student snags it. He always shoots me this smug smirk when he's there too, like—"

Out of nowhere, an Ichabod Crane lookalike materialized in front of the carrel right as Chessly let her backpack slide down off her shoulder.

"Hey! We were going to sit here," she protested with an indignant sniff.

If I hadn't been with her already, I would have played with her for that response alone. Apparently, Ichabod had the same idea.

"You should be quicker then." He smirked.

"Or you could be polite," I said, deepening my voice in my best Jeremiah Fitzgerald imitation.

Only then did the guy acknowledge that Chessly wasn't alone. His eyes widened and the smirk dropped right off his lips.

"Oh, uh, sure. Sure. No problem." Clearing his throat, he added with a gesture at the carrel, "You go ahead."

"Thank you," I said. Then, to be certain he'd picked up the hint, I stepped around Chess and pulled her chair out for her.

With a bemused smile at me, she sat down, and I nearly had to step on Ichabod to move him away from the opposite side of the table so I could sit across from her.

"Have a good session or whatever," the guy said as he backed away. As quickly as he'd materialized, he disappeared.

As I set my backpack on the floor beside the table, I said, "I don't think it's a coincidence that guy sits at your favorite table." I shot her my best smile. "Can't say I blame him either."

Her brows came together in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Ichabod has a crush on you."

"Ichabod?"

"Yeah. Like the character from ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.' I thought everyone read that story in high school." I grinned.

Her face relaxed into a smile as my meaning dawned on her. "Oh, the grad student." She giggled. "He does look a bit like Ichabod Crane, doesn't he?"

"Not your type at all, huh?"

She unzipped her jacket, shrugged out of it, and draped it over the back of her chair. I had to work my ass off to keep my eyes on her face as she revealed her luscious rack in a tight green turtleneck sweater.

"I don't have a type," she said primly as she reached down and opened her backpack. She pulled out her laptop and a notebook and set them on the table in front of her, momentarily distracting me from her gorgeous figure.

"Sure you do, or you would have caught on that ol' Ichabod has a thing for you." Taking a chance, I added, "And you wouldn't have let me join you."

"You think you're my type?"

I could tell she was trying to inject a load of disbelief into the question except it came out kinda breathy.

I grinned. "If those kisses were anything to go by"—I leaned forward—"and they were"—I dialed up the heat in my smile—"I'm definitely your type."

"I've been trying to work out if you have an ego or not." She gave a sage nod. "It seems you have a rather big one."

Laughter barked out of me. "Nope. It's not ego talking here." I snagged her eyes with mine and held them. "It's the scientific method. Make a hypothesis, test the hypothesis, draw a conclusion." Sitting back, I crossed my arms over my chest and didn't miss the way her eyes toured my biceps and shoulders. "Hypothesis: Chessly Clarke is interested in Finn McCabe."

She sucked in air but said nothing.

"Test: Finn invites Chessly to a party and finds a way to spend time with her alone. They have a nice conversation. Chessly leaves the party wearing Finn's hoodie. Will she return it or burn it?" I dropped my forearms to the table and leaned in. "Not only does she return it, but she also spends the evening talking to Finn, drinking hot chocolate, and kissing on the couch." I winked. "Conclusion: Chessly Clarke is interested in Finn McCabe." I gave her a second to refute me. When she remained silent, I whispered, "And Finn McCabe is very interested in Chessly Clarke."

Clearing her throat as she laid out her pencils, she said, "But you're also interested in Tory Miller and the girls in her group." Glancing up at me, she added, "So I'm not seeing your interest in me as special."

Reaching across the table, I covered her hands with mine. "I have zero interest in Tory Miller or any of her little friends." Beneath mine, her hands stiffened. "But my mom raised me to be polite to people, so when they talk to me, I acknowledge them. When they show up at my house unannounced with a tin of fresh-baked cookies, I say thank you and enjoy their hard work." I rubbed the pad of my thumb over the soft skin on the back of her hand and took a big chance. "I'd also way rather hang out with you than with a bunch of freshmen whose only interest in me is that I play football."

"How do you know that's not my only interest in you?"

Giving her hand a tiny squeeze, I leaned forward, "Because I've kissed you ." I sat back with a small smile and enjoyed the pink flush sliding up her cheeks.

She tugged her hands away, and I let her.

"I have a project to research for quantum physics. Don't you have any homework?" Her prim tone confirmed what her flushed cheeks had already told me.

My interest in Chessly Clarke wasn't one-sided.

But I let her get away with her deflection. Pulling my laptop from my backpack, I set it on the table and opened it to the syllabus for my physical chemistry class. With a sly glance at my study partner, who studiously ignored me, I navigated to the homework that required some physics, pulled up a couple of problems, and after giving it a few minutes, said, "Since you're a physics major who wants to be a doctor, maybe you can help me with some physical chemistry homework."

Her eyes narrowed as if she thought I was playing her—which I'll admit I kind of was—but she said, "Okay. Let me see."

I spun my laptop to face her, and she pulled it toward her to see what I was on about. "This looks like a standard physics problem. What are you solving for?"

"Y."

She studied the problem for a few minutes, flipped her notebook to a blank page, jotted some notes, and said, "I think if you apply basic calculus reasoning, you can get there by first solving for X."

I'd figured that out too when I worked on the problem earlier, but she didn't need to know that.

"Thanks."

I took my laptop back and worked on the problem while she returned to her project. Even though I remained hyperaware of her, catching her little sighs and feeling her eyes on me from time to time, I still managed to finish all my physical chemistry homework for the next two weeks while we worked together in easy silence for a couple of hours. At last my ass needed a break from the hard wooden chair.

"You in a good place?" I asked.

Lifting her eyes, she asked, "A good place for what?"

"Taking a break, maybe letting Ichabod have a turn at the good study carrel." I grinned.

She sat up straight and groaned. "Argh. How long have we been working?" Pulling her phone from her jeans pocket, she answered her own question. "How did that happen?"

"What? Time?" I laughed.

With an exasperated huff, she said, "Yes. I can't remember the last time I studied for two hours straight with no breaks."

"Well," I drawled. "You did take a few breaks to see what I was doing."

Her narrowed eyes amused me.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with a sniff, but her eyes didn't meet mine. "I've outlined my entire quantum physics project." Almost as an afterthought, she whispered, "All of it."

"I've finished two weeks' worth of problems for physical chemistry." With a quirk of my lips, I added, "From the looks of it, we should study together more often."

Her brow shot up.

"You know, since both of us get so much done when we're together."

She shook her head, but I caught the tiny grin playing over her luscious lips.

Reaching my arms above my head, I twisted from side to side, giving my back a stretch. Across the table, Chessly tested all my good intentions when she pressed her elbows back and arched her back, lifting her tits to the ceiling. I had to remember I was a gentleman so I wouldn't allow myself to drop into a fantasy of her stretching like that in front of me without clothes on. Fuck . The more time I spent around her, the prettier she became, which was saying something considering she'd had all my attention since the moment I first saw her.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Would you like to grab a pizza at Stromboli's?"

"Um—"

From the expression that flitted over her features, I worried she was planning to turn me down. Then her stomach did me a solid, rumbling loud enough to be heard down the hall. She slapped her hands over her middle with an embarrassed chuckle.

Grinning, I said, "I'll take that as a yes."

"Fine. Okay. I guess I can take a break for dinner."

"Don't hurt yourself admitting you liked studying with me as much as I liked studying with you."

"Whatever," she said, but she didn't put any heat into it.

We gathered up our laptops, notebooks, and whatnot, repacked our backpacks, and headed out into the frigid January evening. Outside Hillman, we fell into step as I subtly guided her in the direction of the parking lot. Our breaths lingered in the air behind us. She must have been super cold because she didn't move away when I dropped my arm casually across her shoulders, pulling her closer to my heat.

One of the perks of being a big man and an athlete was that I ran hot. While she huddled in her down puffy coat, I managed just fine in a T-shirt and hoodie. We didn't waste time though, walking briskly over the recently plowed sidewalk to the parking lot behind the Union where I'd left my truck.

When I unlocked the passenger door, I noticed her teeth chattering, and I wished I had a remote starter so I could have warmed up my ride for her while we made our way across campus. My old beater pickup probably wouldn't have tolerated one, and I usually didn't care if the cab was a bit chilly. Actually, I preferred it. But that wouldn't do for my date.

Date.

Huh .

I smiled to myself as I cranked the heater to high. What started as a chance encounter in the Union had progressed to a study session that had morphed into a date. Not that I'd mention that. Most of the time when it came to women, I was clueless. But every now and then, I picked up on their cues. What I picked up on with Chess was that she was too polite to tell me no after her stomach had outed her at the precise second I asked her to pizza. As dates went, this one was uninspired owing to its serendipity. Still, I had the common sense to appreciate my good fortune.

"Why did you decide to be an RA?" I asked as I let my truck warm up.

I'd bailed on the dorms the second a room had opened up in our house my freshman year. Turned out, I wasn't a big fan of communal living, and I struggled to understand how Chessly could stand it for going on three years.

She turtled further down into her coat. "My scholarship covers tuition and books. Being an RA means the college pays my room and board. It takes the financial burden off my dad."

Remembering the story of how she'd lost her mom, I put the truck in gear and took my time easing out of the snow-covered parking lot.

"Yeah, but you have no privacy in the dorm."

Turning her head on the seat, she gave me a long, slow blink. "As opposed to how much privacy you have at your place? Jamaica says you all have to lock your doors on party nights to keep people from using your beds for shenanigans. Trust me, I've never had that problem in the dorms."

"It's a minor inconvenience."

She snorted.

"It might be a bigger deal if we had parties every night, but the team takes turns when we win." I signaled and took my time navigating a slick corner. My parents had given me new snow tires for Christmas, and I'd loaded a couple hundred pounds of sandbags in the box, but sheer ice covered the streets. I didn't need my date to freak out if the ass end of the truck decided to take us on a little slide.

"From what I hear, you and your roommates like to host several of those parties a season."

"What we like is to win. The parties are a bonus." I shot her a side-eye. "Most of the time, it's only the four of us at the house, as opposed to twenty or thirty people trying to use the same five showers every morning. Doesn't that drive you nuts?"

With a shrug she said, "You figure out how to schedule. I wake up super early, grab a shower, and study for an hour before breakfast. I'm usually one of only two people in the bathroom then, which means I skip the 7:30 a.m. rush that starts most of the freshmen off on the wrong foot every day." She smirked.

"Yeah, that wouldn't work so well at our place, with three of us sharing one bathroom and Coach Larkin expecting us in the weight room fifteen minutes before training starts." I laughed. "Bax and Danny are even less morning people than I am, so if we didn't shower at the facility after morning workouts, we'd probably start each day with a fight." The thought of us racing to the head and bouncing off each other like a trio of clowns made me grin. "Plus, the water heater in our old house is all the way in the basement. It takes it forever to heat up and then as though it's worked overtime, after about twenty minutes, it stops making hot water. With no warning. If you're the second guy, chances are good you're going to freeze your nuts off before you can rinse off. The third guy is just shit out of luck."

Chessly's amusement warmed my chest, and I discovered I wanted to keep entertaining her so I could listen to more of her sultry alto laughter.

"So your shower arrangements aren't that different from the dorms if your morning routine includes a trip to a locker room full of people all needing to get ready for the day at the same time."

"Except there are twenty-five showers with an endless supply of hot water. I'm never late for class because some moron decided he wanted to spend thirty minutes under the spray, and I never endure a shocking surprise." She laughed again, and I glanced over to see color rising high on her cheeks. Guess all this talk about showering maybe had her thinking naughty thoughts.

I hoped.

It certainly had me thinking about a naked Chessly—preferably in the privacy of the shower across the hall from my bedroom when my roommates weren't home.

It seemed only seconds had passed before we arrived at the pizzeria. By some miracle, an open parking space waited directly in front of the bar. After showing off my expert parallel parking skills, I shut off the engine and turned in the seat to smile at my date.

"I thought you were going to feed me."

Touching two fingers to the side of my ball cap, I said, "Yes, ma'am."

I held the door to the bar open for her and followed her inside. The heavenly smell of garlic and cheese assailed my senses, and it was my stomach's turn to rumble loud enough to make Chessly giggle as she walked in front of me. Without asking, she led me back to the football team's booth, which, surprisingly, was open.

As much as I wanted to slide in beside her, we weren't there yet. Sitting opposite her, I said, "I like everything on the menu here. Pick what you want."

"My favorite is chicken and artichoke pizza with extra cheese."

"Extra-large."

She laughed. "Of course."

I watched in fascination as she tugged off her mittens, unzipped her coat, and stuffed them down one sleeve.

"Why do you do that with your mittens?"

She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "So I don't lose 'em."

It was such an elementary-school move, and I loved it. Sassy, sardonic, take-no-prisoners Chessly Clarke needed to tuck her mittens into her sleeve. I grinned.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Resting my elbows on the table, I set my chin on my hands and gazed at the gorgeous girl seated across from me. "But you are terribly cute."