Page 119 of The Hot Shot

“Yeah, but you’ve had to listen to me go on and on—”

“Hey,” she cuts in softly. “I want to listen. I want to be here for you.”

I nod, but before I can reply, she talks again.

“But you want something I can never give you.”

The words swell between us. And I go still. “What do you mean?” But I know.

Chess gives me a sad smile. “You want kids. You know that now. And I can’t have them.” Her lids lower, hiding her eyes. “I think about that and what it means for the future of us. And it scares me.”

“Chess—”

“Let me say this. I know my worth. I know that who I am is the sum of all of me, not the parts that aren’t perfect. I know that if I want children, I can adopt or find a surrogate. There are options. I’ve had all these conversations with myself already.”

Her hand glides over my chest in a slow, steady circle, as if I’m the one who needs soothing.

“I also know that we’ve just gotten together and thinking about this stuff is kind of jumping the gun. But we’re living together now, saying... emotional things to each other.” She flushes pink. “And it feels weighty. Like it’s more than just casual dating.”

“Because it is.” How can she doubt that?

Chess’s fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. “Which means we have to go into this relationship knowing the facts. I don’t want to be a regret. I don’t want you wondering somewhere along the way if you made the right choice.”

“You think I’m not going to want you because you can’t have kids?” I don’t know if I’m hurt or insulted, but it doesn’t feel good. It feels a lot like pain and panic.

Chess shakes her head. “This isn’t something you can just declare in the moment.”

The hell I can’t, but I bite my lip. Instinct is telling me that the more I push, the more she’ll push back.

“Maybe...” She hesitates, licking her kiss-swollen upper lip. “I don’t want to wonder if you’re regretting things. When I found all this out, I made a promise to myself that any relationship I went into would be the right fit for me as well.”

For a second I just stare at her, trying to process what she’s saying. My words come out rough and halting. “Were you planning on finding a guy who didn’t want kids? Is that it?”

Her green eyes go wide, and then she glances away. Guilty.

Something hot and itchy swells in my chest. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

That hot thing grows, climbing up my throat. “I think I do. You’re basically dooming us before we’ve even started.”

Chess’s eyes snap to mine. “I’m telling you how I feel. You wanted to know. Well, this is it. I get scared. I think about these things. I don’t fucking want to. Believe me, I’d rather laugh and make love, and have my biggest worry be whether we get meatballs or onions on our pizza—”

I silence her with a kiss. Pressing my mouth to hers so she can feel me.

Chess stays stiff for a second then relaxes, her hand spreading wide on my chest.

I pull back and look her in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I did ask. And I’m glad you told me.”

She rests her forehead against mine. “You keep apologizing. Don’t. It isn’t your fault that I can’t turn off my brain when I’m with you.”

How fucking ironic: the only time I can turn off my brain is when I’m with Chess.

Gently, I set her aside. I feel a headache coming on and my joints are stiff. “Let’s get this closet filled. Then I need to go for a run.”

She looks at me for what feels like forever, but is only the blink of an eye.

When she talks, her voice is subdued but understanding. “Putting away clothes is something I can do myself. Why don’t you go for a run now?”