Driven Snow Read Online Free PDF Page B

He moved his chin to the side and out of her grasp.
    She raised a brow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was carried away by your charms.”
    Not likely.
    “I hope you’ll allow me to participate in your coaching a little. Sometimes an outsider’s view can make all the difference. I’m not blinded by my own strategy.”
    Snow felt his eyes widen.
    The professor touched his arm. “Thank you so much, my dear, but Snow has a very particular approach to chess that doesn’t lend itself to traditional coaching methods.”
    An instant flash of annoyance crossed her beautiful face before she smiled sweetly. “Why would I ever be traditional about anything?”
    “I’m familiar with both your styles, and one is not better than the other. They’re simply different.”
    “That difference might give me the superior perspective.”
    The professor looked at Snow.
    Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
    “No, I think I’ll go with the ‘if it ain’t broke’ approach and use our usual methods. But thank you so much for the offer.”
    Relief made his head feel cottony. “Yes, thank you.”
    Her bright smile came nowhere near her eyes. “Oh my, you even sound like a girl.”
    A small crease appeared between the professor’s eyebrows. “No, he doesn’t, Anitra. Snow has a musical but perfectly masculine voice.”
    She hooked a hand over his shoulder. “Of course, that’s what I meant. The music.”
    Must get out of here. Snow grabbed his backpack. “I’d best be going. Good to meet you.” He headed for the door.
    “Don’t commit too much time to this enterprise, Snow. We have work to do, remember?”
    “I won’t.”
    Her voice stopped Snow. “Oh, what’s he doing?”
    Don’t tell her. Don’t tell her.
    “A bit of tutoring to help a fellow student.”
    “How compassionate. To jeopardize his championship for another.”
    Jeopardize? He glanced back to see the woman hanging off the professor like an ornament. Did she really care about him? But what could she gain from pretending? She must love him. “I won’t spend too much time. We can work later.”
    “Good. See you tonight, then.” The professor gave him a wave.
    Snow scurried out the door like dogs were chasing him. On the other side, he stopped and leaned back against the painted wood. Why was he reacting this way? Her wanting to coach him should flatter him, not scare him to death. Okay, so she was angry, but more at the professor than at him. Why did he feel like he could throw up?
    He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time. Get moving. Riley expects you. God, that made him want to throw up too, but in a different way.
    He started jogging across the campus. He hadn’t told Coach McMasters that he couldn’t drive, so he had to get to Riley’s apartment some other way. By cab, if he could find one. Not many cabs roamed the streets in a college town. Still, the address was close to campus. He could walk. Well, run, actually.
    A half hour later, he hadn’t spotted anything yellow except an old cat, and he rounded the corner of the street Riley lived on. He slowed to a walk and took a few deep breaths. Hopefully he wasn’t sweaty. Not that he ought to care. Of course, what he ought to do didn’t seem to count for much.
    He looked for the numbers on the row of older, two-story homes that lined the street. Most looked a little run-down. One stood out for the riot of flowers in the beds and bright white paint on all the trim. Sure enough. Number 557. But an old lady sat on the porch in a swing, rocking back and forth. Snow double-checked the number. It was definitely the one the coach had given him. He stood outside the white picket gate. Should he bother her?
    “Don’t just stand there, cutie. Come on in.”
    Was she talking to him? He took a quick glance over his shoulder.
    “Yes, you, young man. You must be here to see Riley.”
    Funny how he almost always knew if he liked a person immediately. Her he liked. “Yes, ma’am.” He pushed open the