The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

I grinned. “That’s not going to happen.”

“But it could…”

“It won’t. But if I got cut because I couldn’t perform at the same level anymore, that would be on me, not you.”

She shook her head and sighed. “What do you want from me, Christian? Is it only sex or something more? Because I’ll be honest, I could deal with a physical relationship, but I’m not sure more is such a good idea. Between my position at the team and me being confused about things with Julian…”

The woman had just told me a sex-only relationship was on the table, and instead of jumping on it, I felt a little offended. “I don’t want to just fuck you, Bella.”

She sighed. “That would be so much easier for both of us. You’re always on the road, and my life is chaotic right now.”

In my gut I knew her hesitancy had nothing to do with relationships being hard or even my being on the team she owned. Bella was nervous. Maybe it was because so many people in her life had disappeared on her, or that she was used to her independence. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw fear in her eyes. “I’m not looking for easy anymore, Bella. I’m looking for real.”

She mulled that around for a long time before finally nodding and taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay? Meaning you’ll let me take you out?”

She smiled. “Okay usually means yes.”

My head fell back, and I looked up at the ceiling. “Fuck, yeah.”

She giggled, and I felt the sound in my chest. Using the hand already joined with hers, I yanked her against me. She practically stumbled as I wrapped both arms around her waist.

“Saturday. It’s our only bye week this season.”

“Okay.”

I lifted one hand and stroked her hair. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “Let’s just take things slow, alright?”

“Not that I’m complaining, but let me see if I have this straight. My choices were, we could be fuck buddies, which is the opposite of slow, but if I want more than that, we take baby steps?”

“I know it doesn’t seem to make sense. I guess I compartmentalize things in my life, and sex when it’s only sex is simple, but sex when it’s more isn’t.”

I wasn’t sure I understood it, but that didn’t matter. “I can do slow.”

Bella smiled. “I’m not sure that’s true. But I’m willing to try.”

I kissed the top of her head and forced myself to release her from my arms. “You got it. Though you better get inside.”

“Why?”

“Because while my brain understands slow…” I motioned to the hard-on already growing in my pants, after only ten seconds of holding her. “My body doesn’t.”

She covered her mouth. “Oh my.”

“You probably should lock the door, too.”

Bella pushed up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Goodnight, Christian.”

“’Night, boss lady. I’ll see you Saturday.”





CHAPTER 14




* * *



BELLA



“Is your birthday today?”

Josh carried in a second arrangement of flowers and set them on my desk. This one was three times the size of the one delivered an hour ago and had the most vibrant colors I’d ever seen in flowers.

I stood. “No, my birthday is in March. But wow, those are gorgeous.”

He smiled. “Well, then someone must really like you…”

I opened the card pinned to the side. Oh boy. The arrangements weren’t from someone who liked me, it was someones. Unlike the flowers Julian had sent, this card was handwritten, and for some reason, I just knew the slashy, bold print was Christian’s.



Bella,

Until tomorrow...

X

Christian



My cell rang, and the name that flashed was just what I needed at the moment. Miller. I swiped to answer. “How did you know I needed to talk to you?”

“I read about it in the Post. And I’m pissed that’s how I had to find out. Give me all the deets, woman.”

My forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see this morning’s New York Post?”

“I don’t read the Post. It’s too much sports.”

“Ummm, sweetheart, you own a football team now. But that’s another conversation. You and Hunka Hunka Burning Love are on Page Six.”

“Still on your Elvis TV binge?”

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure Elvis was singing about Christian Knox when he sang that song.”

As usual, our conversation had gotten off track. “Back up, Christian is in the Post?”

“You’re both in the Post. And the way his big hand is wrapped around you, tucking you close to his side, is hot as fuck.”

Oh God. That paparazzo from last night. “Can you send me a pic of the photo and what it says?”

“Sure, hang on.”

Thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed with a new text. I opened it to find exactly what Miller had described. Christian and I were walking toward my building, his arm wrapped snugly around me. We looked like a couple. But in case people didn’t view the photo that way, the caption beneath sealed the deal.