The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“You know they have this thing called Uber now...”

I smiled. “I’ll be there when it starts this time, I promise.”

“My friend Andre can drive you home after. He’s a pretty good driver.”

“Does Andre have a license?”

“He’s got his learner’s permit.”

“That’s not a license to drive. I hope you’re not getting into the car with him.”

“You know, you used to be cool. Now you sound like my mom.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You do that…”

I laughed. “I’m at work still, so I need to run. I’ll see you Wednesday, okay?”

“A’ight. Later.”

“Later, Trouble.” I brought my cell over to the couch with me after I hung up.

“You going to the Philly game?” Christian asked.

“Philly game?”

“You mentioned a game on Wednesday. The league is trying out weekday nights a few times this season. Philly game is this Wednesday.”

“Oh.” I shook my head. “No, I’m going to a high school game, not a league one. Wyatt and his mom are old friends. He actually grew up playing soccer, but when he got to high school, the football coach drafted him as the kicker. He’s really good. Hoping to get a scholarship, but he goes to a catholic high school in Queens that doesn’t get a lot of attention from colleges.”

“What school?”

“St. Francis.”

Christian nodded. He was sitting on the couch, with one arm slung across the top and one foot propped up on the coffee table. It certainly didn’t look like he was in any rush to get up, and he seemed perfectly content just talking about, well…nothing.

I tilted my head. “Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Why are you here?”

“You mean at the Bruins?”

I shook my head. “No, here with me at this moment. You must have plenty of other things you could be doing right now that are more fun than listening to my drivel.”

“Maybe I like drivel.”

I snort-laughed. “No one likes drivel.”

He smiled, and his eyes dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second. “Maybe I like you.”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “Why?”

Christian shrugged again. “I don’t know. I think you’re interesting.”

My eyes narrowed. “What about me is interesting?”

“You’re a billionaire who lives in a rent-controlled apartment over a fruit stand and tried to give the team you inherited to your grandfather. What’s not interesting about you? Given your situation, most people I know would live in a penthouse by now and take car services, not walk twenty minutes to the stadium every day after getting off the train or humping it on two buses to Queens to see a high school game.”

I raised an eyebrow, and a grin spread across Christian’s face.

“Plus, you’re hot.”

That last part made me smile. “And technically, I’m your boss.”

His grin widened. “That makes you even hotter.”

I chuckled. “Tell me about yourself, Christian. I feel like you know so much about me, but I don’t know anything about you, other than your stats, of course.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“You think I’m hot too, don’t you?”

I laughed. “Just answer the question, Knox. Something tells me your ego gets stroked enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shook his head. “No girlfriend.”

I tapped my lip with my pointer. “What do you do in the offseason?”

“Recover. Let my body heal. Sleep. Fish. I have a cabin on a lake up in Maine. Spend time with friends. Travel. Keep up with my training.”

“That sounds so…normal.”

“The season is anything but normal when you play in the NFL. It’s tough on the body and mind. You’re on the road all the time, the media follows your ass around, women hand you underwear with their numbers written on them and sneak into your hotel room. So normal is good.”

My face wrinkled. “Women give you their underwear?”

Christian smiled. “Any other questions?”

“Am I demented if I’m curious to know whether the underwear are clean or not?”

He laughed. “Maybe. But I like the way you think.”

A little while later, Christian’s cell chimed. He slipped it from his pocket and swiped. “I promised PT I’d stop back down before they close at seven thirty for a quick recheck of my knee, so I have to run.”

I tapped the screen on my phone to check the time. “Oh, wow. I can’t believe it’s seven fifteen already. We never even talked about the players or the staff.”

“Which means I have to come back.” Christian winked and stood. “Unless you want me to come back after and we can talk over dinner?”

I smiled. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “Another time, then?”

“Sure.”

He walked to the door. “I’m going to hold you to that sure.”





CHAPTER 5