The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

Miller laughed. “Okay, but you are making up an excuse for a guy who took too long to call after the first date.”

“It’s a logical one, though.”

“So is that he was too busy to call because he’s dating four other women.”

I frowned. “Don’t pee on my parade.”

“Tell that to Jose and his girlfriend…”

I smiled. “Anyway, I’m going out with him again next Thursday.”

“Maybe he’ll go wild and hug you at the end of this date.”

I shook my head. “I should never have told you he shook my hand at the end of date one.”

“I would bet my entire life savings that the quarterback would do more than shake your hand at the end of a first date.”

That bet I would definitely not take. I was certain Christian Knox was not shy when it came to women. I was also certain our chemistry would be off the charts. But I wasn’t about to admit that and open the door for more talks about something that wasn’t going to happen. I shot Miller a look. “So the bet would be for what? A dollar eighty-two, then?”

“Not all of us own a football team, sunshine. Which reminds me, you can fill my tank on the way to the airport.”

“Then we better get going. I don’t want to be late and miss the team plane.”

Miller stood and took the handle to my luggage. “Pretty sure they’d wait for you, princess.”



***



“You’ve got a little drool…” Christian pointed to my cheek. “Right here.”

I reached up to my face as I blinked sleep from my eyes and looked around, confused. I’d been sitting next to the team’s director of analytics when we took off.

Christian thumbed toward the back of the plane. “Jeff’s son is a big fan. I told him I’d stop by where he sat in the stands next home game if he switched seats with me.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to see if you snored. I’m a light sleeper, and that will make things more difficult when you start sleeping over at my place.”

“You’re not practicing, yet you’ve somehow hit your head. I won’t be sleeping at your place.”

His grin widened to a full-fledged smile, drawing my eyes to his dimples. “We’ll see.”

I forced my eyes from his face. That’s when I noticed Christian was wearing a suit, a full, three-piece one, vest, tie, and all.

“You’re all dressed up?”

“Gotta look professional when we go on the road.”

The navy of his suit brought out the color of his eyes, and his jacket accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. He actually overflowed from his seat, impinging into mine a bit. “Does your suit have shoulder pads?”

He smiled. “No, ma’am. That’s all me.”

God, he really is sexy as hell.

Christian leaned toward me. “In case you’re wondering, I’m evenly proportioned. Big everywhere.”

I felt my face redden. “Thanks for sharing…”

He shrugged. “Of course. Full disclosure is important in a relationship.”

“We don’t have that type of relationship.”

“Not yet. But we’re working toward it.”

I laughed. “Is this how you get all your dates? You repeatedly tell them they’re going to go out with you?”

“Nah. Just you. Normally, they ask me out.”

“That sounds much easier. Maybe you should redirect your focus to one of those women.”

“Easy is no fun…”

“Oh.” I nodded. “Is that what this is about? You’re one of those, huh? The kind who likes the chase.”

“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t enjoy a good chase once in a while. But that’s not the reason I’m interested in you. Think I already laid out those reasons. You’re beautiful, thoughtful, independent, smart—a hell of a lot smarter than me—down to earth. I could go on. But there’s one more reason I can’t seem to leave you alone.”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “I’m almost afraid to ask…”

Christian looked over his shoulder before moving close. “I’ll never live this down if one of the guys finds out I said it, so I’ll deny it if it gets around. But I get butterflies in my stomach when I’m with you. First time it happened, I thought I was hungry or something. But I wasn’t. It was just you.”

Oh.

My.

God.

I thought butterflies were strictly for women—like a menstrual cycle or the ability to put the cap back on the toothpaste. Christian stared at me, waiting for a reaction, which I tried to curtail on my face but clearly couldn’t. He tapped the underside of my jaw.

“You should shut this.” His eyes sparked hot. “It’s making me imagine things you don’t want me to tell you about—not yet, at least.”

I was still trying to formulate a coherent thought when Jeff walked over. I’d never been so grateful for an interruption.

“Sorry. I think I left my medicine in the seat back.” Jeff pointed to the pocket in front of where Christian was now sitting. “I don’t mind takeoff and flying, but I need a little something before we land.”

Christian reached forward and pulled out a prescription bottle. He held it up to Jeff. “Happy landing.”