Driven Snow (3 page)

She stepped inside and slammed the door.

“Uh-uh-uh, temper, temper.” Hunter leaned forward in the chair where he sat reading the newspaper in front of the fireplace.

“Were you spying on me?”

“Of course not. What do I care what you do with the chess loser?”

“Nothing, I suppose.” She crossed into the living room of the townhouse and collapsed on the sofa. “Dear God, this is so damned tedious. And so frustrating.”

He leaned his big body forward. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Spare me the dime-store slogans.”

“Then focus on what you’ve got to win.”

“Yes. There is that. Once I’ve won the tournament, I’ll have a perfect platform from which to garner sponsorships and commercials. Perhaps films from there. It’s all within grasp. They’ve hardly ever had a female chess champion, and never a beautiful one. I’ll be a sensation.” She gazed into the fire, but all she saw was the future.

“You’ll surprise a lot of people because, right now, not many predictions think anyone can beat the kid.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What have you read?”

He handed her a copy of the
Daily Mirror
. The paper gave far more space to chess, both in the print and online versions, than most publications, since the NorCal Chess Club was so famous. The story, headlined “Reynaldi Virtually Unbeatable,” went on to blah-blah about how experts agreed that, even at this late date, no real competitor had emerged for Reynaldi. The Russian was the only possible contender, according to this reporter. “Bullshit.”

Hunter smiled. “They say he’s number one. The best of the best.”

“Won’t it be fun changing their stupid, narrow minds?”

“You go, girl.” He laughed.

“And, of course, I don’t intend to play him.”

A quick frown flashed across his handsome face. Anitra narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you take our enterprise seriously enough. After all, if I profit, you might also.”

“I take you very seriously, baby.” He stretched and grinned.

She raised a brow. “On the other hand, you can be replaced.”

“By Dr. Chess Face? Right. Not bloody likely. Besides, where else are you going to find a guy with a ten-inch cock?”

She glared at him, then burst out laughing. “Well, there is that.”

THE FOOTBALL
flew in a high, arcing parabola and landed perfectly in the hands of Rog, just as if Riley had thrown it from a few feet away rather than half a field. All around Snow and Winston, the fans went crazy, yelling and stamping their feet. A few days ago, Snow would have been happily cheering too. Now all he saw was the anger and revulsion on the football player’s face. As the other fans began to file out, Snow grabbed Winston’s arm and moved toward the steps from the bleachers. Had to get to the coach’s office.

As they walked across the tarmac, the knots in his stomach felt like they could easily rise and choke him.

Winston stretched his long legs to keep up. “What’s your hurry? We’ll only end up waiting until the coach gets there.”

“Just want to get this over with.”

“What are you going to tell the coach?”

“The truth. I don’t have time. You do.”

“Are you feeling okay?” He stared down at Snow.

“Of course.”

“You’re acting kind of weird.”

“I just don’t like getting beaten up by subhumans. I guess I didn’t think they could be that mean.”

“You warned me.”

“I know, but I didn’t quite understand.”

You’re an idiot.

That I do know.

Seeing Riley in his natural habitat felt like a strange kind of death. Death by unrequited desire. Snow swallowed. Maybe that was overstating the case. Not like he’d ever really had a boyfriend. Winston didn’t count. Win had an unrequited desire for Snow. Of course, he had an unrequited desire for a lot of guys. Karma, right? Snow paid the price of leaving Winston unfulfilled by yearning for a prince who didn’t know he existed, wasn’t even gay, and now proved he was just like all the others.
So much for your damned fairy tales.

The coach had said to come right after the game. They walked slowly to give him time to get there from the locker rooms. Snow pushed through the double doors of the huge athletic building that housed the gym, locker rooms, training facilities, classrooms, and offices. He knew because he’d looked it up. A few steps in, a man the size of a tree trunk moved in front of him. “Sorry, no visitors until two hours after the game.”

“Uh, Coach McMasters is expecting me, uh, us.”

The big man looked at a clipboard. “What’s your name?”

“Snowden Reynaldi.”

The guy glanced at Snow like he must have made a mistake about his identity. He nodded at Winston. “Who’s this?”

It wasn’t as if they were planning an assassination. “Another physics tutor. That’s why the coach asked us here.”

The guy frowned in suspicion but finally nodded. “Okay. Down the hall, second door on the right.”

“Thank you.” They skirted around Tree Trunk Man and followed the hall. Even this far from the locker rooms, the air had a tinge of sweat. At the door, Snow took a breath.
Here you go.
He plunged inside.

A handsome young guy wearing sweats lounged on the edge of a reception desk in the outer office, flipping through what looked like a sports magazine. He glanced up, and his eyes widened slightly. “You the physics guy?”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

He nodded at Winston. “Who’s this?”

“Another physics guy.”

He cocked a half grin at Snow. “Jesus, man, they should put you on the cheerleading squad. You’re prettier than most of the girls.” He held up a hand. “Sorry. No offense. Coach says I got no filters. Name’s Danny.”

“Hello.”

“Hope I didn’t embarrass you. Sorry.”

“No. Others have said the same.” Snow forced his eyes from his shoes.

Danny pointed toward a door in the back wall. “Coach is waiting for you inside.”

“Thank you.”

Snow managed to cross the few steps to the door without passing out. Just what he’d needed. Someone to remind him what a freak he was. He glanced back at Winston at his heels, pushed down the door handle, and walked into the inner sanctum.

CHAPTER 3

SOMEWHERE IN
the background, he heard Coach McMasters say, “Hey, Reynaldi, thanks for being on time.” But he didn’t see him. All he saw was the blazing glow of golden light that was Riley Prince.

Riley sat on a chair in front of the coach’s desk, still wearing his uniform pants but no top, with only a towel around his neck, his golden hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks pink as roses, and two strips of black on his cheekbones emphasizing the blush. His chest. Dear God, did humans really look like that? Carved as if from alabaster. Riley leaned forward, but still no fat bunched at his waist. Snow had heard of six-packs, but this was some amazing expansion of that idea. Twelve. Maybe sixteen-pack.

“Uh, Snowden.”

“Snow.”

Snow looked up at the coach, then at Winston, and blinked. “Yes?”

The coach nodded. “I was saying, this is Riley Prince. You volunteered to tutor him in physics, right?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I did.” He tried to swallow the mouth full of cotton. “I mean, actually, no. I mean—”

Winston kind of snorted and stepped forward. “I’m Winston Erhlinger. Snow doesn’t have time to do the tutoring, so he asked me. I’m an honors student in physics.”

Coach McMasters half stood and shook Winston’s hand. “I see. Yes, I guess that makes more sense. I was wondering how Reynaldi could manage it with his practice schedule and all. I appreciate you doing this, Erhlinger.”

Riley stared at his hands, and for just a second it looked like he frowned. Then he stood up. Funny to say stood up, since there was no other direction to stand, but in Riley’s case he stood up and up and up. Snow’s eyes followed the motion until they landed on the guy’s face. He was smiling. Not some phony, polite, arrogant, football-star smile, but a real one, with dimples and everything. He extended a large, long-fingered hand to Winston. “I sure appreciate you doing this for me, man.” Sweet Jesus, Snow actually felt jealous of Winston getting that smile instead of him.

Winston about cracked his face with his grin. “Hey, my pleasure. I didn’t realize it was a one-on-one. Thought it was more of a class.”

The coach said, “Is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all. I’m a big fan.”

Snow’s knees gave way, and he sank into the other guest chair in front of the desk. Fan. Winston didn’t know a football from a watermelon, but he sure liked handsome hunks.

It felt like heat touched his face, and he glanced up to find Riley’s golden eyes staring at him. Riley stretched out a hand. “Good to see you again.”

Sweet Jesus. Snow stared at that big paw, then extended his own and watched it get swallowed. Heat traveled up his arm to his chest and then his brain. Like looking into the sun. He shook slowly, one, two, three times. The shake ended, but Riley kept holding; then he kind of shook his head and dropped Snow’s hand like it was hot. A little extra pink seemed to attack Riley’s cheekbones. “Sorry I won’t get to work with you. I’m a fan.”

Snow caught his breath. “You, uh, you like chess?”

The coach leaned forward. “Yeah, I didn’t know you were a chess player.”

Riley shrugged. “I looked it up to help me with strategy on the field. I don’t understand it very well, but I sure like watching you play the game.”

The coach looked confused. “Is there much to see?”

Riley’s cheeks got brighter. “Hard to explain.”

The words fell out of Snow’s mouth. “Because you know what I’m going to do next, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

McMasters looked back and forth between them. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Riley has an innate grasp of quantum reality.”

“I do?” Riley’s eyes widened.

“He does?” The coach looked just as shocked.

“Yes, that’s why he’s so good on the field. It’s why I know he can learn physics.” He had to get out of here. Snow stood. “So, you’re in good hands with Winston. Good luck passing your exams.” He practically ran to the door and heard the coach say, “Thanks again, Reynaldi.” He escaped into the outer office, waved at Danny, who managed to look like he was lying down in his chair, and gasped for breath as he made it into the hall. Riley Prince might be the most beautiful human ever generated, but he hadn’t said a word about Rog’s attack on Snow and Winston the night before. Clearly, the man had his priorities, and the top of his priority list was football.

SNOW CURLED
on his rug and stared at the ceiling instead of his chessboard. Focus! He sighed. No use. His brain conjured images of Riley Prince wrapped in erotic embraces with Winston.
Stupid. Totally.
Riley was far more likely to be having sex with Courtney at this moment than Snow’s tall, skinny friend, but Snow’s brain refused to create that picture.
Jealous. Simple truth.
No matter how much he told himself that Riley qualified as a small-brained homophobe, he still wanted to be the one teaching him, the one Riley smiled for, and the one he felt grateful to.

Snow flipped on his stomach and rested his cheek on his hand. His cell chimed in his pocket, and he practically knocked himself out, he rolled back over so fast. He pulled the phone to his ear before he hit the green button and had to try again. “Hello. Uh, hello.”

“Hey.” Winston sounded weird.

“What’s wrong?” Maybe they did have sex and Win felt embarrassed.
Good grief, you’re nuts.

Winston sighed. “Crashed. Burned.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He can’t learn physics.”

“That can’t be right.”

“Never spent a more frustrating three hours in my life.” Winston grunted. “Or with better scenery. Man, that guy is hunky.” He sighed. “But he gives new meaning to the term dumb blond.”

“No. Riley Prince isn’t dumb.”

“You weren’t trying to shovel shit into his brain all afternoon.”

“You just couldn’t teach him.”

“Hey, thanks a lot.”

Winston didn’t deserve his disdain. “Sorry. I just mean that he can’t learn physics from the standard curriculum. His professor’s probably tried that all year. He needs a different approach.”

“Hell, I tried everything.”

Snow sat up. “I know. Thanks for taking it off my hands.”

“By the way, he apologized for what happened at the Zeta house. Said something about that Rog dude having a lot of emotional issues because of family stuff, and Riley’s trying to get him some help.”

“That’s something, I guess. Still, seems like he cared more about the football team than our lives.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I didn’t save the football team. I sure would have loved all that free beer.” He laughed.

“I’ll buy you your own kegger.”

Win laughed again, then paused. “Seriously?”

Snow smiled. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“Nah. So, want me to come over and tuck you in?”

“I’ll be up plotting chess moves all night.”

Win chuckled. “I’d like to mate your king.”

Snow sighed real softly. “Sleep well.”

“Okay, okay. You know how to hurt a guy. See you tomorrow.”

Snow clicked off the phone and stared at it. Was he giving Winston false hope?

I never told him I wanted to be his boyfriend.

You never said you didn’t either.

He slipped the phone into his pocket again.
Maybe I just want someone to care about me.

You’re a desperate mess.

So true.

What was he going to do about Riley Prince and physics?

Nothing. It’s not your problem.

Feels like my problem.

Add it to the list.

He sighed, faced his chessboard, and tried to concentrate more on the Ruy Lopez opening than on how to get a prince into his castle.

OH NO.
How can it be morning?