Not My Match (The Game Changers 2)

So what are you doing?

I stare up at the ceiling, the peek of the sunrise shining. I have no clue. I’m operating on instinct and going with the flow. She hasn’t made me promises, and neither did I. It’s possible she’s just exploring her sexuality with me; it’s possible this won’t last.

Later I come out of my shower with a towel around my waist and head to my closet, anxious to get dressed and talk to Giselle before I head out. My closet is huge, about the size of a bedroom, suits on one side, jeans and casual shirts on the other, clothes for the gym folded in cubbies in the back. Loafers, sneakers, and a myriad of other shoes are in boxes, neat and organized, but I can’t see anything because the light doesn’t come on when I flick it up and down. The bulb must be blown. A sound scrapes, like nails down a chalkboard, from the vicinity of the darkest part of the room, a spot near my tailored shirts. Maybe I’m hyperaware since the Cindy episode, but it makes me hesitate, picturing a giant spider with babies ready to pounce on my chest. I’m not scared of bugs, not really, but I don’t want an infestation in my house. Better tell Quinn to call the pest guy.

A light crawling sensation dances over my foot, and I skitter back. A beam of light flashes in my face, making me blink; then the light bounces down to a pointy-headed monster with a wide mouth and bloody, sharp teeth. It growls, and I yell and jump two feet back.

Laughter spills from Giselle as she whips off the shark mask and rolls on the floor. A flashlight falls from her hands. “Dev, oh my God, your face . . . dying . . .”

“You took out the light bulb?” My voice sounds incredulous.

“While you showered.” She giggles and throws the Jaws mask at me, and I catch it, holding it out with a disdainful finger. It’s hideous, and I throw it behind me. Will burn it later.

“Where did that thing come from?”

She bites her lip. “Ordered it the first time we watched Shark Week. Amazon Prime delivery.” Another fit of laughter. “I told you I’d get you.” Her eyes narrow. “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, I’m just picturing fake spiders in your bed, on your laptop, in your panties.”

She rolls over to her back, her fingers playing over the edge of my shirt she’s wearing as she looks up at me with innocent blue eyes. “Try it. Give me all you got.”

I’m on her in a heartbeat, tickling her as she cries out and tries to scoot away from me, but there’s no escaping. She twists and turns under me as I run my hands under her shirt and dance my fingers over her ribs. Squealing, she begs me to stop, promising she’ll never scare me again, and I laugh, putting my face in her neck and inhaling the smell of her, soft and all Giselle. I’ve got her. I’ve got her. Here in my arms, with me. Fear spears me, snaking around, making my heart jump in my chest. I shove it away.

I’ve stilled, and she pulls my jaw up. “Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t like it.”

My eyes shut briefly. “In one of your universes, in the future, what am I doing? Where are you?”

Time stands still as we look at each other.

She swallows thickly. “You just scored the winning touchdown, a sweet pass from Jack where you ran seventy yards. There’s already a Super Bowl championship ring on your finger, and your heart is light. Your dad is clean and sober. Your girl is crazy about you. She travels with you when she can. She always knew you’d win. She’s special, a little quirky, not like anyone you’ve ever met, and before each game you look up, see her, and send her a kiss with your fingers. That’s your signal that she’s the one.”

My breath hitches. “What’s she like?”

“Smart. She has a serious career, but nothing would exist if you weren’t there.”

I press my forehead to hers. “What if we’re too different?”

“You aren’t different—not underneath, where it counts. Life doesn’t decide who you fall for. Love knows no rules at all, and your girl, she’s never boring, and you’re constantly wondering what she’s going to do next. She brings out your soft side, and no one makes you laugh like her. One day, you take her hand and beg her to be yours. You make a home with her, a wild little family of boys who play football in the yard and girls who grow into intelligent women. You can’t believe how lucky you are. You guard them with your life. The first time daughter number one has a date, you follow them to the movies until she confronts you, and you back down and hope she chooses a good man like you. Your wife kisses you when you get home, and you make another baby that night. Five kids total. Maybe more.”