Page 30 of Game Changer
“Sorry for calling. I’m just really slow at typing.”
“S’okay.”
“Are you busy, or—”
“No! No, it’s fine. I, uh, it’s nice to hear your voice.” Kip cringed. But he couldhearScott’s smile over the phone.
“You too, Kip. I’ve been thinking. A lot. About the other night.”
Kip lay back on his bed, grinning. “Yeah?”
“Mm. I was hoping you might want to come over later.”
“I could probably make myself available,” Kip said playfully.
“We could get some food delivered. Watch a movie. It doesn’t just have to be—”
“That sounds perfect. As long as it can also include—”
“Oh, it definitely can.”
Kip bit his lip. Scott’s voice had dropped a bit and gathered some gravel when he’d said that last thing.
“So what time do you want me?” Kip asked, trying his best to match Scott’s tone.
“I’m not doing anything right now.”
Shit.“You want me to come over now?”
“If you want.”
“I do. I want. I’ll see you soon.”
Kip almost hung up, but then he thought to ask, “Oh. Should I...should I bring an overnight bag?”
Scott was silent a moment, and Kip cursed himself for being presumptuous.
“Yeah. Bring one. Absolutely.” Scott hung up.
Kip blew out a breath and smiled stupidly at the ceiling. Then he got to work figuring out the fastest route to Scott’s.
Chapter Seven
Scott couldn’t sit still while he waited for Kip.
All morning he had been worried that Kip wasn’t going to contact him, either because he didn’t want to, or because he had lost the number. It had been ridiculous; Kip had seemed very interested in seeing Scott again, and he also seemed smart enough to enter a number into his phone.
Kip was smart. Smart and gorgeous. And a really good kisser.
Scott paced around the apartment, occasionally doing something unnecessary like rearranging the throw pillows on the sofa or straightening a perfectly straight picture on the wall. He stood at his windows and watched the boats in the East River, and the cars going over the bridges at either end of his panoramic view.
He brushed his teeth (again) and checked his hair.
Scott considered his outfit. He was keeping it casual, obviously—he was relaxing at home, after all. But he was wearing his best jeans, and a pale blue T-shirt that he was pretty sure made his eyes look nice. Unfortunately, he also had a pretty big bruise on his right arm, just above his elbow, a fucking two-handed slash from a Buffalo defenseman’s stick.
You look fine. Everything is fine.
He went down to the lobby to meet Kip. He timed it well because Kip arrived less than five minutes after.
