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Glancing around to ensure we’re hidden, I give in to temptation and press my lips to his. “Of course I would. I’d never force you into something that makes you uncomfortable.”

His tension visibly eases, shoulders relaxing as he rises on his toes to chase another kiss. “I think… I’m okay. It’s awkward, but it’s not real, right?”

“Right.” Smiling, I grab his wrist and tug him toward one of the lounge seats near the front. “What is real, though, is us. And I want to experience your first NFL game together.”

Olivia smiles as we approach, her gaze flickering between us. “Everything good?”

With a nod, I slide into the middle seat. Shilo’s still visibly tense, his shoulders hunched, and I can’t help but wish I could pull him onto my lap to shield him from the awkwardness.

Clearing her throat, she offers my little doll a grin. “Ryann tells me you’re studying programming. I actually have a degree in that field myself.”

“Computer engineering,” he mumbles, fiddling with his hoodie sleeves as he peeks at her. “Kind of the same thing, but not.”

“Oh, that’s right. You deal with all the physical components while I specialize in code,” she winks, and he thaws a fraction.

“Yeah, sorta.”

The two exchange a few more words before the conversation fizzles out, and I send her a grateful smile for making an effort.

“I should FaceTime my dad,” Shilo whispers as the players take the field, the crowd erupting into cheers. “These seats are insane.”

The mention of his father makes my stomach roil, but I push the feeling aside and smile. “I bet he’d love that. It’s not every day you get to see the Giants kick some ass live.”

Olivia nudges me, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bag at her feet. “True. And you get to see your Ravens lose.”

I scoff, draping an arm behind Shilo’s chair. “Shall we make a bet? If my team wins, you cut the royalties for AVA in half.”

“Deal.”

While Shilo chats with his father, I let myself get lost in the game, my eyes tracking number twenty-two as he moves through his warm-ups. Football was never my sport, but I’ve followed Huckslee Davis since his college days. The kid’s got guts—coming out in an industry as hyper-masculine as the NFL takes courage I’ve never had.

Not for the first time, I wonder how different my life might’ve been if I were free to just be. If my mother had raised me instead of Ronin. If she hadn’t died. Would I still be this version of myself? Or more like Declan, with his easy smiles and joking nature? And what if our roles had been reversed? If I’d been the one she’d taken with her instead?

Maybe I’d be in Huckslee’s shoes, openly out and playing pro ball in Boston. Or maybe I wouldn’t even have made it this far. I guess I’ll never know.

A shiver pulls me from my thoughts as Shilo presses into my side, sneaking as close as he can without drawing attention. The ache in my chest tightens. If I were braver, I’d wrap him up in my arms for warmth, but I’m not. At least, not yet.

The game drags on, heading into overtime after the Giants’ quarterback lands a flawless pass to tie it up. I spend most of it explaining the rules to Shilo, though he hardly pays attention, instead ogling every player on the field. When I lean down to tease him about it, brushing my lips against his ear, he flashes me a coy smile, his cheeks pink beneath the stadium lights.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Callahan,” he murmurs sweetly, popping that damn thumb into his mouth. “I’d much rather watch basketball players instead.”

Oh, I do love this bold side of him, but he’s playing with fire.

Two minutes left on the clock, and Huckslee intercepts the ball from the Giants, sprinting for the end zone. Olivia and I are on our feet instantly, shouting for opposing teams as he’s tackled at the line. The stadium holds its breath—but his feet cross the boundary. Touchdown. Game over. My Ravens take the win.

“Bullshit,” Olivia mutters, huffing as she grabs her Prada bag. I smirk, rolling my eyes.

“Don’t be a sore loser. Your team played well.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighs, placing a hand on my little doll’s shoulder with a warm smile. “It was nice to meet you, Shilo. If you ever want to talk computers, hit me up.”

With that, she disappears into the crowd, leaving Shilo staring after her. When those big blue eyes finally swing back to me, they’re laced with curiosity. “She seems… nice.”

“She is,” I agree, guiding him toward the exit. “I think we’ll be good friends when all of this is over. She’ll make a savage business partner.”

He hums but stays quiet as we navigate the throng of fans pouring out of the stadium. By the time we find our ride and slide into the backseat, he still hasn’t said much, and I can tell he’s stuck inside that pretty head of his. I don’t know what’s on his mind, but I do know that I’m not ready to go back to the hotel just yet.

“Know any place where we can get some authentic Brooklyn pizza?” I ask the driver as he pulls into traffic.