Charlee stared at him. She’d never heard of him, but she could hardly believe that on top of it all Hector had a brother who was pretty famous. No wonder those girls were all over him. With fame, there also came fortune. Wow. She didn’t think he could be any more unattainable.

“Anyway,” Walter said, clearing his throat, still wincing as he set up his last piece. “He said it hasn’t been formally announced and probably won’t be for months until everything is finalized, but it looks like Abel’s going for the heavyweight title next year. That’s what the party is for. And it’s not open to anyone else but close friends and family, so it’s cool that Hector said we can all go.” Walter’s eyes suddenly opened even wider. “He said Felix Sanchez might even be there.”

Charlee caught herself as her mouth fell slightly open. Felix Sanchez—now there was a name she recognized. He’d become one of those household names now like Shaquille O’Neal or Tiger Woods. Even if you knew nothing about the sport they played, everyone’s heard of them because they were all over television and tabloids either for good reason or bad.

In the case of Felix, there was a little from column A and a little from column B. While he did a lot for his charity to help troubled youth and he won quite a few big bouts, he was also in the tabloids a lot. Because of his famously boyish good looks, in spite of how many fights he’d been in, his many romantic escapades with Hollywood starlets and other famous female athletes had made the front pages of countless gossip magazines.

Charlee purged the incredible urge to roll her eyes. Of course, Hector would be closely acquainted with someone like Felix. In a way, she was happy to hear this. His inviting the guys in the chess club to such an exclusive party had only furthered the confirmation of one thing: her theory about Hector thinking himself to too good to hang with the chess club people was completely debunked. She needed something, anything that would remind her he wasn’t perfect. Sure being friends with someone like Felix added to the already staggering mountain of cool Hector stood atop of, but it also helped further the other conclusion she’d come to about Hector Saturday night.

She wasn’t at all sure how serious he was about boxing, but if his brother was going for a major title, Hector couldn’t be far behind. Felix was the perfect example of what anyone even considering getting involved with Hector had to look forward to. She almost smiled smugly. This could very well kill the already weak temptation to continue to fantasize about the guy.

Catching Walter’s pained expression one more time, she finally had to ask. “Are you okay?”

The pained expression morphed into an even weirder one, and he started doing that head-bobbing thing again. “Yeah, I’m just a little sore is all. Me and Hector had a long workout last night over at 5th Street.”

Charlee lifted an eyebrow. “You work out with him?”

“Yep,” the head bobbing got more severe until Hector’s hand landed heavily on Walter’s shoulder and Walter froze.

“I’ll play the winner.” He pulled out the chair next to Walter, spun it around then straddled it, resting his big arms on the back.

Charlee’s mouth went dry in reaction to seeing him this close so suddenly, and her heart kicked into overdrive instantly. Not only had he interrupted the thoughts she’d been so lost in—thoughts of him once again, working out—he was now staring at her with that smile that made her insides liquid.

“But let’s put a timer on this one,” he added, still smiling and looking right at her. “I heard you’re the resident tactician. I don’t have all night,” his eyelids went a little heavy and he smirked, “not tonight, anyway.”

Panicking about feeling her face already heating, she was incredibly thankful that he turned his attention to Walter, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s say forty minutes tops, big guy? This way I still get to see enough of your game to get an idea what I’m in for, but we don’t go too long.” She was just getting over the flush from the last comment he made to her when he turned to her again with a smirk. “I know you like going at it long and taking it slow, Charlee.” His playful smile made her breath catch. “But tonight you can indulge the new guy, right? We can do this nice and slow another time. I promise.”

She had to clear her throat for fear her voice would be a croak since her mouth was still bone-dry. “Forty minutes is fine.”

How in the world she’d concentrate on her game with him sitting there watching her and in that manner was beyond Charlee.

“Okay, forty minutes it is,” Walter said, setting the timer on, “unless someone wins sooner.”

That just might happen. Charlee was already contemplating letting Walter win—the sooner the better. She was already having a hard enough time staying composed and breathing steady. She couldn’t imagine beating Walter, which she’d done several times in the past, and have to sit there directly across from Hector.

Walter’s opening was the same as usual. She already knew what his next few moves would be. Damn Walter and his predictable play. How was she supposed to let him win without making it too obvious?

After the third uncharacteristically bonehead move on Walter’s part, Charlee looked up at him. Was he trying to lose? Their eyes met but not for long, because he immediately went back to staring at the board. Great. Maybe he was nervous about playing Hector too.

“So did Walter tell you about tomorrow?”