Page 168 of Game Changer
Scott’s heart did flips in his chest. Kip looked so handsome, and so happy to see him.
“Hi,” Scott said, standing to give him a quick hug.
“Hi. You’re wearing a suit! IknewI’d be underdressed...”
“You look good,” Scott said, letting his eyes travel over him. “Perfect.”
“If you say so,” Kip grumbled, sliding into the semicircular booth. Their thighs brushed together, but Scott refused to flinch.
“This place is nice,” Kip observed.
“Yeah, uh, Carter said it’s...romantic.”
Kip smiled at him, and Scott blushed.
“I’m just happy to be somewhere with you,” Kip said. “Wouldn’t matter where. But this is nice. Thank you.”
“I’m a little worried that Carter might show up here,” Scott said. “I think he’s sort of keen to meet you.”
“That’s sweet, right?”
“Yeah. It is. I want to introduce you to everyone, but not tonight.”
Kip tapped his foot against Scott’s. “Not tonight.”
“Hey, um, do you want some wine? Or a drink? After tonight I’m abstaining from alcohol until after the finals, so...”
“Is that your rule, or your coach’s?”
“Coach’s. But I would have made the same rule for myself anyway.”
“Tough but fair.”
“Hey, some coaches make their players abstain from sex.”
“Shit. You ever had a coach who did that?”
“Yeah. Once.” Scott leaned in. “The hardest part for me was pretending it was difficult.”
Kip laughed, but it sounded a little sad. Scott touched their knees together under the table and saw a heat in Kip’s eyes that drew him in automatically. He wanted to kiss him.
“Any questions about the wine menu?” the sommelier said, interrupting the moment. Scott snapped backward, and immediately felt bad about it.
He clumsily ordered some wine, with the assistance of the eager-to-please sommelier. People expected Scott to know about things like wine, or to at least be interested, because he had money. He didn’t care about it.
He ordered a bottle of “The first thing you said. That one. Sounds good,” and the man left.
“Sorry,” Scott said as soon as he was gone. “I know I kinda...jumped back, just then.”
“It’s okay.”
“No—It’s—I didn’t mean to. I guess I’m not used to the idea of...”
“Not expecting you to suddenly be comfortable with everything,” Kip said. “We’ll take it slow.”
Scott smiled gratefully at him. Impulsively, he covered Kip’s hand with his own, on top of the table for anyone to see. Kip grinned and flipped his hand over, tangling their fingers together. It felt good. It was exhilarating, but it wasn’t scary.
Kip squeezed his hand, then pulled his own away to pick up his menu. “So what’s good here?”
