The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

We clinked glasses. “To getting the star of the team back,” I added. After we sipped, I motioned to the planner. “Would you want to see a few pages? I feel like I’ve told you how odd it is, but seeing it and hearing about it are two different things.”

Christian shrugged. “If you don’t mind.”

I was kind of curious to get someone else’s take. I’d never kept a planner, so maybe this type of thing wasn’t that unusual. I picked up the book from the bed, flipped a few pages, and held it out to Christian. “Start here.”

Christian took the book and sat down on the edge of the bed. I chewed a fingernail as he read one page and then the other, before flipping to the next.

After two more pages, he stopped and looked up at me. “Did you go to Stuyvesant High School?”

I nodded. “And I was on the math team. Did you see the note that says Japan donation? Every four years, the team went to Japan for the World High School Math Olympics. It was expensive, but the team would raise money each year to fund the trip. We used to sell candy. Before my mom died, I would give the order form to her, and people at her work would all place orders. But once she was gone, I didn’t know anyone who could afford to waste money on overpriced candy, so I went door to door. But then the following year, we didn’t have to go door to door anymore. Someone paid for the entire club to go on the trip. There was a rumor that the donation stipulated that the team couldn’t go door to door anymore selling things.”

“John made the contribution?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea, but he watched me go door to door. And then there’s that note. I think he might have.”

Christian thumbed through a few more pages without reading. “The whole thing is like this?”

“Every page.”

“Well, now I get what you mean when you say it’s creepy. I don’t think I could’ve visualized how weird it is—just line after line of places you went, and you had no idea anyone was following you.”

“I know. I really wish I could ask Tiffany and Rebecca about it. But I doubt they know what he did, since they had no idea I existed until the will reading. Maybe they could help me understand why he would do it. They had to know him better than most people—he was their father, and they worked together for so many years.”

“Why don’t you? Worst that can happen is they tell you to screw off. But it seems like they do their best to tell you that every time they see you anyway.”

I shook my head. “They would probably demand that I turn over the planners. I was left the interest in the team and the stadium. My sisters were left everything else that was not specifically bequeathed. They spent three weeks in court arguing whether the furniture, fixtures, and equipment in the corporate offices were part of the team or part of ‘everything else.’ I’m sure if they knew about the planners, I’d be back in court.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m sorry. I made this about me. We’re supposed to be celebrating your return. I’m happy for you as your friend and as the owner of the team. Today’s loss was not fun.”

“Is that what we are? Friends, Bella?” Christian’s gaze dropped to my lips, causing my stomach to do a little somersault. He took his time making his way up to meet my eyes again. “Because I’m friends with a lot of guys on the team, and I didn’t go straight to any of their rooms to tell them the good news.”

I suddenly wished I’d kept the big suite I’d originally been booked in. This room felt very small at the moment. Where’s a grand piano to stick between us when you need it?

Christian stayed silent, watching me the way a pro poker player sizes up his opponent, trying to determine whether he should bet the pot. He rubbed his chin. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“What?”

“On the plane you said you’d never had a serious relationship as an adult. Did you have one before you were an adult?”

The man was astute, I had to give him that. I motioned to the bottle of champagne. “Can I have more of that, please?”

“Of course.”

Christian poured me a glass, our eyes meeting more than once while he did. After, he set the bottle down and waited for me to continue. But first I drank back half the flute.

“I went out with a guy for about six months when I was seventeen.”

“Was he the same age?”

I shook my head. “He was twenty-five.”

The muscle in Christian’s jaw ticked. “Did he hurt you?”

“Oh gosh, no. Not physically anyway, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was hurt when he broke things off, but I was a kid who thought we were in love.”

“Was he your first?”

I nodded. “Oddly, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to that relationship lately. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I’ve preferred no-strings-attached in the years after.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“We’re friends, right? Friends share.”

His smile was halfhearted. “I should probably go. It’s late, and the team leaves early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, sure. Of course. Thank you for stopping by and letting me know. I’m excited to see you back on the field.”