“We’ll see,” she shot back, her grin widening, freckles dancing across her rosy face.
* * *
Hazel was mouthing along to Keane as the music filled the room. We’d been playing chess for two hours, and unfortunately for her, I was excellent at it. Her moves weren’t bad—far from it—but she hadn’t quite cracked the code to actually win. Still, the concentration on her face was something to behold. She considered each move with care, trying to anticipate mine, and I couldn’t help but admire her determination, even as I stayed stubbornly five steps ahead.
For a moment, I considered letting her win, but Hazel didn’t want a pity victory. She even warned me, which I foundhilarious. But she tried so hard to threaten me that I had to promise not to go easy on her.
Hazel liked to learn, analyze, and adapt, and I had mad respect for that. Even when I pointed out she couldn’t recover from the position, she insisted on finishing every game. Losing for two hours straight and still wanting to play? Honestly, it was pretty impressive.
At first, we only discussed chess logistics, but soon, our conversation moved into deeper topics. Each of us searched for more and more intimate questions.
“Your friends told me you’ve surfed a lot in other places. So much that you could’ve gone pro,” Hazel said, eyes locked on the board, planning her next move. I chuckled.
“Funny. My parents used to say that I won’t make a career out of it.”
“Maybe not, but sometimes the wrong path leads you to the right place,” she mused, focused on her rook.
Don’t go there. I’ll take it in two moves.
“I actually had a friend, a pro surfer, who got injured. It made him stop and figure out what else could make him feel that alive. Turns out, it was cooking. He moved to the States and ended up becoming a famous chef.”
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but her eyes told me it was true. “So, what’s your career failure turned passion?” I asked, sliding my queen into position. Her face shifted as she realized what was coming.
“Barista turned professional cheese sniffer,” she answered without missing a beat.
I laughed. So hard. “What?”
“Yeah, if you don’t like cheese, we should part ways now before this goes any further.” I cocked my head to one side and smiled, savoring the moment.Further where?
I hummed, considering my next move. Now she was the one watching me.
“I don’t know. When I was little, I wanted to be a librarian. You?” she said.
“Salesman turned lifeguard, maybe?” I lifted my gaze, and it locked with hers. For a moment, we just stayed there, trying to read each other’s minds.
“Tell me about your parents,” Hazel said, moving her knight.
“No, sweetie, it’s my turn now.” I smiled, dodging the question and earning a bonus—a rosy color on her cheeks. It was probably thesweetiethat did it. I’d have to remember that.
“The most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done?” I asked.
“This trip,” she admitted with a smile. I was secretly happy for being part of the reason.
“What always relaxes you when you’re stressed?” she shot back.
“Complimenting people. Speaking of which, you look very pretty today. And relaxed.”
She froze for a second, eyes still on the board, caught off guard. “Are you stressed right now?”
“No.” I wasn’t. At least not anymore. Not after that hug she granted me. “Which means you can believe me when I say it.”
“Yeah,” she dismissed me. “It probably has nothing to do with your whole flirty vibe.” It stung a little bit. Deservedly so, I guess.Why does she do that? She never accepted compliments. Was it because they came from me or because she didn’t believe them?
“It doesn’t mean it’s not true.” I searched for her face, but she was hiding her gaze in the game.
Hazel smiled to herself, giving a little shake of her head. If she’d had a fling or two in her life, the guys probably said nice things. Still, I had a feeling she never believed them, since mostwere just chasing a night, not a person anyway. But she didn’t seem like the type who did that.
“Have you ever had a one-night stand?” The words left my mouth before my brain could stop them.
