The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

I shrugged. “I’m confused about my feelings toward Julian. I thought he was exactly what I needed.”

A cocky smile stretched across Christian’s face. I was waiting for a matching cocky response, but then there was a knock at my door. Josh cracked it open and peeked his head in. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were alone. I was coming to give you the five-minute warning before your next meeting.”

“Thanks, Josh. I’ll be there.”

“Good enough.” He nodded to Christian. “Knox.”

Christian lifted his chin. “Sullivan.”

After Josh closed the door, Christian picked up a petal that had fallen from the roses. He rubbed it between his fingers. “You’re busy, so I’ll get out of your way. I was just coming up to ask if eight AM tomorrow is okay?”

I’d assumed we’d be going out in the evening. But it didn’t matter. “Sure.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh…what are we doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m more of a planner than a surprise-type person.”

Christian smiled. “You also thought Bozo was exactly what you needed. Keep an open mind.” He winked. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”





CHAPTER 15




* * *



BELLA



I changed four times.

Not to mention before putting on the outfit I currently wore, I’d actually googled comfy clothes. The range of photos that popped up went from yoga pants, to cute little dresses, to ripped jeans and sneakers. The written definition I’d found wasn’t any better: clothing that when worn makes you feel relaxed. Relaxed? Are they crazy? Clearly they had no idea who I was. That word didn’t make a frequent appearance in my vocabulary during a normal week, but now it was fifteen minutes before Christian Knox was picking me up.

Or so I thought…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shoot. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had on a long-sleeved, smocked dress Miller had made me buy last night, and I really wanted to change again. But it was going to have to wait until after I let Christian in.

At the door, I took a deep breath before opening. “Hey…” My face fell when I saw Christian’s outfit. He had on a pair of black sweats and a form-fitting thermal. “I’m overdressed, aren’t I?”

Christian’s eyes drifted up and down my body. “You look beautiful. But you might want to put pants on.”

I sighed and stepped aside. “I knew I was overdressed. Come in. I need to change. And I’m warning you, it’ll probably be more than once.”

Christian looked around my tiny apartment, stopping at the couch, which had a pile of clothes strewn all over it, most of which still had tags on it from my shopping trip.

“I take it this isn’t the first wardrobe change you’ve made.”

“Comfy clothes covers a wide spectrum of options.”

“Do you have any of those yoga pants women wear to exercise?”

“I do. Is that what’s appropriate for today?”

Christian shrugged. “They’ll work. Plus, I’d like to see your ass in them.”

I chuckled. “Let me see what I can do.” I walked over to my dresser and opened the drawer where I kept my rarely used exercise clothes while Christian looked around.

He peered down at the bookshelf. “What are all these?”

“Those are antique metronomes. I collect them.”

“The timing things musicians use to stay on tempo?”

“Yep.”

“Do you play an instrument?”

I shook my head. “Not since high school. When I lived at the shelter, I played in the orchestra, and my teacher gave us each a metronome to use when we practiced. She said learning to play while it clicked was good training for following the hands of a conductor. I didn’t really use it for practicing, but the clicking sound had a way of relaxing me. After my mom’s death, I struggled with panic attacks a lot, and I found that putting the metronome on, and focusing on it, was soothing. One day I passed an antique store and saw one in the window. I went in and bought it, and that started me collecting old metronomes, I guess.”

Christian flicked the switch on one, and the rhythmic clicking started. He kept it on for about ten seconds before turning it off. “That would drive me fucking nuts.”

I laughed. “Miller says the same thing.”

I held up a pair of Lululemon leggings, a cropped top, and a zip-up matching jacket. “Is this good?”

He grinned. “Definitely. That’s sexy as shit. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

“But is it also appropriate for where we’re going? Better yet, why don’t you tell me where we’re going since I’m going to find out soon anyway. Then I can make an informed decision on what to wear.”

“Nah.” Christian shrugged. “We’re working on you learning to go with the flow.”

“Oh we are, are we?”

“Yep. Go get changed.”

I squinted before heading to the bathroom. “Bossy.”

When I came out, Christian was sitting on the couch, which was more of a loveseat to fit in my tiny apartment. He took up more than half of the thing. My eyes shifted to the neat pile next to him. “Did you fold my clothes?”