“What’s wrong?”
“I need to revise my plans to include an escape route from the basement.If someone sets your house on fire, you’ll cook down there.We can build an escape hatch on the property that’s camouflaged like the local terrain.”
“Do what you must.”
He rubbed his nose.“Your anxiety is bothering me.”
Poor Lucian couldn’t escape my emotional drama.I spotted the game table on the left wall and decided we needed a diversion.“Do you know how to play checkers?”
One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.“Are you kidding?I’m a master player.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” I purred.“Come help me with dinner and we’ll have a friendly game afterward.”
Chapter9
Lucian raised his arms and howled gleefully.The motion swung my left arm around due to the short chain connecting us.“Threetimes in a row,” he boasted.
I stared at the checkerboard, which now only had Lucian’s black chips.“You take this game far too seriously.”
“I let you win the first two, so technically I’ve won five times.”
I sputtered with laughter while folding the game board and putting it back in the box.“You didn’tletme win, and you know it.”
Lucian added the red and black checkers to the box.“Is this how you have fun?I pictured you going to upscale clubs and hanging out in the VIP section.”
After putting the lid on the box, I rested my arms on the wooden table.The warm glow of the floor lamp made this corner feel more intimate.Maybe it was the white wine, or maybe it was our forced proximity, but I was so comfortable around Lucian that it felt perfectly natural to reveal details about my personal life.
“Clubs aren’t my scene.My father and I used to play all the time—before he got weaker.He won’t let me bring the games downstairs because it gives him a reason to come up here.I guess he thinks I’m keeping him hostage.But we don’t play for hours like we used to.He likes to sit outside a lot and talk about the old days.What about you, Mr.Checker King?Is this your favorite game?”
“I used to play with my brothers all the time.It’s hard to get a game going with the pack.”
“Why?”
“They like group games with teams.I could play checkers all day.”
“We have something in common.I get addicted to the game.Chess was never my thing.People can retreat and drag out the game.You can’t run away in checkers.”
He folded his arms on the table and stared at the box, silence enveloping us until the only sound was the crickets outside.
“You’re not much of a conversationalist,” I said, stating the obvious.
“I say what’s on my mind.That’s the problem.”
“Why is that an issue?”
“People think I’m an asshole.Not every remark I make is meant to be an insult.I just state the facts.”
“What do your brothers say about that?”
He scratched the back of his head.“I’m the black sheep.They’re nothing like me.”
“Maybe that’s because you had it rougher than they did,” I suggested, thinking how a black-haired Chitah standing below six foot would have faced challenges.
“My family has a lot of… expectations.”
I swirled my wine.“Sometimes family doesn’t always know what’s best, but we do aim to please, don’t we?”
“We get along, but I’m tired of people apologizing for my personality.Don’t mind him, he doesn’t have a filter.Ignore him, he’s just being Lucian.”
