The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

I shook my head. “Only to my work.”

“One of those, huh? Were you always that way or only since you took over the team?”

“Always that way. Even in school, I wanted to do well. And I never had any pressure to get good grades. I just enjoy working hard and achieving things.”

“Not me. I prefer a nap under a tree to a day of work.”

I laughed. “Well, you must know how to work hard when you want to, otherwise you wouldn’t be in the NFL.”

“My brother is the reason I made it. He’d wake me up at five o’clock in the morning before school to have a catch. The only reason I got good at catching is because my brother got better at throwing. It’s tiring chasing down his bullets.”

“I feel like you’re exaggerating a bit.”

Jake leaned forward and scooped some peanuts from the bowl on the table. He tossed a few in his mouth. “Not really. We were born with the gift of height and speed. Twins start out with all the same DNA, but some of it mutates in the womb after the split. Pretty sure my motivation gene mutated, because while we may look identical, that boy runs circles around me when it comes to drive.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short.”

“Nah. I owe where I am today to my family—both Christian and our older brother, Tyler. Those two kept me in line.” He paused and pointed to my empty mimosa glass. “Let me get us both another drink.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I’d invited all of the corporate staff to the suite, so a few of them arrived before Jake returned. It didn’t seem like I had to make introductions since everyone seemed to know him already. He fell into easy conversations, which allowed me to spend some time with the director of analytics, going over the tweaks I’d made to my model and showing him the predictions it had made.

This week’s projections turned out to be the best yet. When the game was over, I’d even nailed the score in three out of four quarters.

A few minutes later, Christian joined us upstairs.

“Thank you for babysitting,” he said, with a nod to Jake.

“Your brother is great.”

“Did he chew your ear off with more stories of dumb shit I did as a kid?”

“Actually no, not today. He was very complimentary of you.”

“Damn. I better make sure he doesn’t have a fever.” He smiled. “I should get him to start saying his goodbyes. He’s got a flight to catch, and I’m going to drop him off.”

“Oh, okay.”

A few minutes later, Jake came over. “Tough loss today. But thank you for having me.”

“My pleasure.”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I guess I’ll see you at Lara’s thirtieth?”

My brows pulled together.

Jake smiled. “I can tell he’s crazy about you because he couldn’t shut the hell up last night after you left. That determination I told you about earlier? It doesn’t only apply to football.” He winked, just like his brother, and touched two fingers to his forehead in a salute. “See you soon, Bella.”



***



I was halfway through my fourth read-through of the planner since I’d opened it two nights ago, when I heard a knock at my door.

Christian was on the other side, once again looking too handsome for his own good. I unlatched the top lock and opened the door.

“Coach just called. MRI results are in. I can resume practice tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, wow. That’s great news, Christian.”

He nodded. “Thought maybe you’d come help me celebrate.”

I looked down. I’d already changed into shorts and a T-shirt and washed the makeup from my face. “I’m sort of prepped for bed.”

“Is that the only reason you don’t want to celebrate with me?”

“Of course.”

Christian leaned down and reached for something on the ground off to the side of the door. He held up a champagne bottle and two glasses with a grin. “My room or yours then?”

I laughed. “You tricked me. Besides, you told me you don’t drink.”

Christian bent to the floor again. This time he held up a small bottle of apple juice. “It’s the closest thing they had at the bar that looks like champagne.”

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your teammates?”

“Why would I do that when I have such a hot neighbor?”

I figured it was my obligation as team owner to celebrate good news when I was with the team—at least that’s what I told myself as I stepped back so Christian could enter. “One drink.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as he came inside, his eyes went to the planner. It was open to a page, face down in the middle of the bed. “I was…rereading. Trying to figure out if I missed anything important.”

Christian peeled the foil from the champagne. “What’s the verdict so far?”

“Still just a weird summary of events that occurred while he followed me, and a note here and there.”

The loud pop of the champagne startled me, even though I’d watched him open it. I jumped. “Sorry, reading that thing puts me a little on edge for some reason.”

He poured champagne into one flute, then twisted the top off the apple juice and poured it into the other. Passing the first flute to me, he held his up in a toast. “To getting back to work.”