Fallon
I had no idea how I ended up here.
Well, actually—I did.
Reid had come home earlier than expected, looking ridiculously put-together despite what I knew had to be a brutal day at work. Meanwhile, I’d been lounging on the couch, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and no intention of doing anything productive when he casually dropped a question that sent my entire evening spiraling into enemy territory.
“Do you play chess?”
I blinked up at him. “Are you being serious?”
His lips twitched. “I don’t joke about strategy, Fallon.”
Of course he didn’t. I could already picture it—Reid Callahan, eleven years old, probably reading The Art of War between school exams and power plays on the playground.
But I wasn’t about to let him think he had the upper hand.
“Fine,” I said, stretching la
