Ignoring my sarcasm, he gives my shoulder a slap and walks off toward the house.

I should get up too, go inside, find Chess and mingle. But I don’t move. Everything feels sluggish and heavy. I’m also thirsty as hell, my throat dry and tight. “Fucking North.”

“I think he was trying to be your friend.”

Chess’s voice startles me, and I lurch to my feet just as she walks out of the shadows.

“Hey.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “You heard all that?”

Her lip quirks, as she hands me a cold bottle of beer. “Enough. What was it North said? Don’t talk in public if you don’t want to be heard.”

So she heard it all. I take a long pull on my beer and try to run through all of North’s lecture. None of it is puts Chess in a good light. “North is coming off a bad marriage.”

Chess stands beside me. “I heard. Megan says he got married too young. Before he could know his own mind.”

“Jesus, gossip is rampant in this organization. With everyone doling out advice like they’re Dear Abby.”

Amusement lights her eyes. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived.”

I snort and take another drink. Something uncomfortable and off buzzes between us. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. Knowing she’ll follow, I start to walk toward the pool house. It’s dark and abandoned right now. That doesn’t stop me from trying the door.

Thankfully it’s unlocked, and I walk in. Chess is a step behind me, a small wrinkle forming between her straight brows. “We’re not having sex in here,” she says. “That would be cliché.”

“I’d like to say I have better game than that. But we both know I’d be up for sex anywhere you wanted it.”

My joke falls flat, as Chess strolls around the darkened room. There’s just enough light to see her shadowy form and the glint in her eyes as she turns back toward me. “Then why are we here?”

“Something’s going on with us,” I blurt out. “Everything feels off since we got here.”

Chess walks back toward me, until she’s illuminated by the outdoor sconces that flank the pool house doors. “I feel it too.”

“Then talk to me.”

Chess lets out a tired sigh. “I don’t know where to start.”

My heart thumps in my throat, but I’m not backing down now. “At the beginning.”

Slowly, she shakes her head as if trying to clear it. “Finn, you’re my best friend but—”

“No, I’m not,” I cut in.

Chess gapes at me. “You’re not,” she repeats, pissed.

I want to kiss her. I refrain. Barely. “I have a best friend. It’s Jake.”

Her delicate nostrils flair. “Fine. Then James is mine.”

“I know this.” I take a step closer.

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.” She sneers. “Asshole.”

I grin, which really pisses her off. I ignore that too and take another step. “I know Jake is my best friend because I don’t want to fuck him.”

“Lucky for Jake,” she mutters, glaring up at me.

“I don’t miss him the second he’s out of my sight,” I add.

Her eyes narrow, her gaze darting over my face in growing confusion.

I’m so close now, the tips of her breasts brush my chest when we both take a breath. “I don’t need to hold him, need to see him just to know that he’s okay, that he’s comfortable and happy before I can relax.”

The anger in her eyes mutes to something softer.

I touch the curve of her jaw, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “We are not best friends, Chess. We are more. You are my everything. The reason I get up each day.”

She melts toward me. “Finn…”

My hand slides to the nape of her neck, and I hold her steady. “So don’t come at me with this, ‘we’re best friends’ bullshit when you want to use it to drive me away.”

She freezes, her chin firming in stubborn resistance. Did she think I was blind?

“You are not doing whatever this is under the guise of friendship.”

Her head jerks back, trying to get free. I don’t let her. My hold is gentle but firm.

Her glare is fierce. “Let me go, Finn.”

I can’t. It’ll break my heart.

“Talk to me,” I rasp.

Her cold hand wraps around my wrist. “I heard everything he said.”

Guilt has me flinching. “Look, North is…”

“He’s right.” Her voice is soft but emphatic. And it is a kick to the gut.

“He believes he’s right.”

Chess frowns. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard James bitch that one of his favorite athletes is starting to suck because he’s lost his focus in a relationship?”

“Are you saying I suck now?” My head pounds, a dull thudding at my temples.

“I’m saying that, aside from that kind of gross and misogynistic bit about players’ wives in the middle, North was making a lot of sense. And you know it.”

The pounding in my head gets worse. Something bitter burns its way up my throat. “I can’t fight you too, Chess. I need you on my side here.”

“I am on your side.” She moves to touch my cheek but stops short. “I just think that if we take a step back—”

“Fucking hell. Just stop with your damn logic and listen to me!” I throw the bottle against the wall and it shatters. Chess flinches as I round on her. “I’m hanging on by a thread. A fucking thread. And you’re either trying to end us with talk of babies that we may or may not want, or you’re being some sort of goddamn sacrificial lamb on the altar of football! Do you want me to choose football over you? Is that it?”

She blinks back at me with glossy eyes. “No. You shouldn’t have to choose.”

“Then don’t make it a choice.”

“Do you think it was easy to hear all that?” she snaps. “While knowing that, by having me in your life, I make it that much harder for you to succeed?”

“Your faith in my ability is heartening, Chess. Truly fucking inspiring.”

“Goddamnit, Finn, this isn’t about my faith in you, it’s my lack of faith in me. I am a bad bet!”