The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

Not too long after that, we had to head back to the airport. Local time was only nine, so the real party was just getting started when we left, but it was eleven in New York, and we still had to fly home and be at work in the morning. At least if I was dragging, I wouldn’t be getting tackled by a three-hundred-pound lineman.

The small private plane Christian had chartered had wide, lie-flat seats. We sat facing each other as we took off, but once we were in the air, Christian reclined his seat and crooked his finger at me. “C’mere.”

“Where?”

He tapped his chest. “Lie on top of me.”

I pointed. “I am not having sex with you on that chair. Or anywhere on this plane, for that matter.”

He smiled. “I just want to hold you.”

The man was irresistible when he showed a vulnerable side. So I unbuckled and snuggled on top of him.

Christian stroked my hair. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“I had a good time. And I still can’t get over how much you and your brother look alike. It was sort of weird watching the man I’m sleeping with get down on one knee to propose to another woman.”

Christian’s hand on my head stopped moving. “Think we can use boyfriend?”

My nose wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Instead of guy you’re sleeping with.”

“Oh.”

He caught my gaze. “In case it’s not clear, that’s what I’d like to be…your boyfriend.”

“What does that mean to you?”

“It means we spend time together on a regular basis. Maybe stay at each other’s places sometimes. We’re honest with each other and take care of each other’s needs. It also means we don’t sleep with other people. Or date anyone else.” Christian paused to make sure he had my full attention. “Especially Julian.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t thought about Julian since you showed up and crashed our date.”

“I’m afraid to ask too much and scare you off. But I need to be realistic, too. I’d lose my mind if you were dating someone else at the same time. And it’s not because I’m a possessive guy. I’ve been in casual relationships where there was no commitment. But I feel possessive when it comes to you. So can you handle that?”

I thought about it before nodding. “I wouldn’t want you with anyone else, either.”

Christian kissed my forehead. “Good, so it’s settled.”

I didn’t actually feel settled about any of this. But I hoped that would come with time.

“You know what my mom said while you were talking to Jake, and I said goodbye to her?”

“What?”

“She said it was the first time she could remember me using we so much.”

“I don’t understand…”

“She’d asked if I was going to come visit her in Florida in the offseason this year. I said, ‘Yeah, we’ll figure something out.’ She also asked why I needed to leave so soon, and my response was, ‘We have an early morning.’ I guess I’ve been an I guy for so long, she noticed when I started using we. The fucked-up thing is, I didn’t give it any thought. It came out that way because I see you in my future.”

I’d been afraid to believe in a future with anyone, because people in my life hadn’t exactly been reliable, but I wanted to believe it was possible with Christian. I smiled. “You should get some sleep.”

“You, too.”

“Yeah, I should. You know how some people only require four hours of sleep and they’re chipper? I’m not one of them.” I started to climb off Christian, but he held me in place.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to tie my hair up before I go to sleep.”

He released me from his grip, and I found a tie in my purse. Christian watched as I pulled my hair back and bundled it into a high pony. Then I snuggled back into the chair bed with him, and he covered us with a blanket.

“You should do pigtails.” He smiled. “Like you did when you were in elementary school. And maybe a school uniform...”

I lifted my head to look at his face. “I thought you didn’t look at my photo album?”

Christian closed his eyes. “Sorry. I lied. I did look at it.”

“Why would you lie about that?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It was dumb. But it just ended so abruptly when you were a teenager, and it made me sad. I thought it might make you feel down if you came out and I was flipping through the pages.”

“That does kind of make me sad when I look through it.”

“Full disclosure? I read the newspaper article, too. It slipped out when I was putting the album away.”

I shook my head. “I’m not even sure why I keep that.”

“I didn’t realize it was a hit and run. Did they ever catch the driver?”

“Unfortunately, no. The investigation was active for a year, but they never were able to figure it out. The accident was near one of the stadium entrances, which has a camera to record all the cars coming in and out, but it wasn’t working at the time.”

“What about witnesses? The article said there was at least one.”

“There were two. They both said it was some sort of a classic car. But when the police showed them pictures, their memories were very different. One picked out a blue Ford Thunderbird from the fifties, and one picked out a red Jaguar. I remember the detective in charge said eyewitnesses who see a traumatic event actually make the worst witnesses. The police found a broken headlight at the scene. Based on the material it was made of, the only thing they knew for sure was that the car had been made before nineteen fifty-seven.”