The Fall (Colorado Coyotes #6)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Rowan

“Checkmate.”

I lower my brows and study the chess board, then sigh heavily. Arthur’s right—he checkmated me in less than five minutes.

“Again,” I say, moving my pieces back to their original places on the board.

It’s the day after Dom and Tess’s Halloween party, and I’m still buzzing from Cam agreeing to a date. I haven’t told Dom, and I’m not looking forward to him finding out about it. He made his feelings about me dating Cam crystal clear.

“You’re a sucker for punishment, kid.” Arthur’s eyes gleam as he reaches for his queen, his hand trembling slightly.

At age eighty-two, he’s wrinkled and stooped, with just a few white hairs remaining on top of his head. His eyes, though, could still be twenty. A pale-blue shade, they light up with mischief when he cracks a joke and darken when he’s pissed off.

I never would’ve thought that when I was twenty-nine years old, one of my closest friends would be a grouchy Vietnam veteran who kicks my ass at chess every time we see each other, but here we are. Arthur and I met last year when I was doing mandatory volunteer service hours Mila requires from her players. When my weekly visits to the nursing home ended, I kept coming back to see Arthur. I always bring my dog, Duke, and all the residents and nurses love him.

“Do you remember what I told you about castling?” Arthur peers at me over the dark rim of his glasses, still lining his pieces back up.

“Only do it if it puts my king in a more protected place.”

“Yet you did it anyway.”

I shrug. “I play chess like I play hockey.”

He scoffs. “If that’s the case, how the hell do you still have a job?”

I reach over to help him set up his pawns and he bats my hand away. Shaking my head, I look down at my golden retriever, who is lying on the floor by my feet.

“Can you believe this guy, Duke? He doesn’t want me to listen to my gut.”

Duke, who at age thirteen is a lot less concerned with the world around him than he used to be, doesn’t react. Arthur laughs, which leads to a coughing fit.

I stand up and get him a cup of water from the dispenser in the corner. Passing it to him, I say, “Hey, don’t knock this out of my hand, old man.”

He takes the paper cup and downs all the water in it, muttering his thanks. Then he clears his throat.

“Your gut doesn’t know how to play chess, Rowan. You need to be more disciplined about the strategy I taught you.”

“Isn’t it counterintuitive to use the plays you taught me against you? You’ll see ’em coming.”

“You’re right. Keep playing the same dumbass way you always do. I like my 142–0 record.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I’m bringing some sticks and pucks next time so we can play hockey in the hallways here. I’ll show you a winning record.”

“My left hip hasn’t been broken yet. That should do it.”

We start a new game of chess and this time, I play the way Arthur taught me. Before meeting him at Pine Haven a year ago, I’d never played a game of chess. Now I can beat six of the seven teammates who play against me when we’re on the road. I’ll never beat Sergei. His Russian grandfather was a professional chess player, and he taught Sergei well.

“How’s the knee holding up?” Arthur asks.

“It’s good.”

I tweaked my knee during training camp and Arthur worries I’m playing with an injury. Even though our team doctor and team trainer have checked me out and cleared me to play, Arthur still asks me about it pretty much every time I visit.

He lost his only son to cancer nineteen years ago, and he has no other surviving family. I’m an only child and my parents have both been gone for more than a decade. We both know what it’s like to feel alone.

I take my hand off my bishop after moving it and Arthur howls in annoyance. “Of all the boneheaded moves...You’ve got shit for brains, you know that?”

I grin. “Watch your blood pressure, old man. I don’t want to have to shock you back to life with that defibrillator on the wall.”

He grunts. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t not enjoy it. Looks fun when I see people doing it on TV.”

“Still no TV here at the Haven.” He scowls as he speaks. “Cable’s been out for more than two weeks now.”

“You want to use my laptop? I’ve got all the streaming apps on it.”

He wrinkles his face in disgust. “I wouldn’t know an app if it bit me in the ass.”

“I can show you how to use it. It’s easy.”

“Nothing’s easy when you’re as old as I am. Takes me half a damn hour to walk down to the dining room.”

“But then you’re a ray of sunshine to everyone in there, aren’t you? Especially Clara.”

He gives me a scolding look. “Don’t mention her. The nurses will hear you.”

Arthur has a thing for another resident at the nursing home. I noticed him watching her every time I was here and she was in the room, but he denied it for the first six months. Now he’ll only admit he thinks she’s good company.

“You should ask her out,” I suggest.

He scoffs. “And take her where? To the dining hall? So we can sit at a table full of people with their dentures sitting on napkins who can’t hear a damn thing?”

When he puts it that way...yeah, it doesn’t sound very romantic.

“It doesn’t have to be elaborate to make her feel special. Get her some flowers. Put on a nice jacket. Comb down your two hairs.”

He grunts. “I don’t need dating advice from a guy whose balls just recently dropped.”

I arch my brows. “You’ve had zero dates in the year I’ve known you, so...I think you do.”

Arthur looks like a kindly old man, but he could hold his own chirping with the guys in my team’s locker room. I know he enjoys our banter, even if he pretends it annoys him.

“When was your last date?” he asks in a smug tone.

“Last one? I don’t know, a few months ago. I actually have a date Thursday night.”

He studies me over the rim of his glasses, his lips turned down in the frown he wears when he’s thinking. “Well? What’s her name? You taking her somewhere nicer than a nursing home dining hall?”

“I made a reservation at a good Italian place. And her name’s Cam. She’s my best friend’s girlfriend’s sister.”

His frown deepens. “That’s a bad idea.”

I ignore my flare of aggravation. “Why is that?”

“Because if it doesn’t work out, and it probably won’t, your best friend and his girl will be mad at you.”

“Why do you think it probably won’t work out?”

He scoffs. “How many women have you been out with?”

“I mean...ever?”

“The number doesn’t matter. Point is, none of them worked out, did they?”

I open my mouth, then close it again.

“Cancel the date. Your best friend is more important.”

Why does he assume I’m a douchebag who’s going to screw Cam over and piss Dom off? I don’t let on how aggravated I am.

“I don’t have to choose between the two.”

Arthur shrugs. “Okay. I won’t say I told you so.”

“You’re overthinking it.”

He drops the subject, making his next move in our chess game.

“Check.”

I move my king out of check and Arthur counters by putting him in check with another piece. A nurse stands off to the side as we both play in silence, concentrating.

“That’s it. Checkmate,” Arthur says.

“Well done,” the nurse, Sara, says. “And now it’s time for your medication.”

I look at my watch and then back at her. “He doesn’t usually take medication in the afternoon.”

“The doc put me on a new one,” Arthur says. “Supposed to help with the shakes.”

Sara passes him a pill and some water and he takes it. As soon as she’s out of earshot, he gives me a wry look. “Don’t ever get old, kid. It’s no damn fun.”

“Beats the alternative, though.”

A corner of his lips quirks up in a smile. “I suppose.”

“You want to play some more chess?”

“If you’re not tired of losing yet.”

“One of these games, I’m gonna sneak up on you and win.”

His laugh is hearty, so thorough he has to wipe his eyes when he’s done laughing. I like making him laugh like that. Even if I have to lose a hundred and forty-four chess games in a row.