Although Darren and I spent a lot of our time together at my condo in bed, we did go out on occasion, usually for dinner or drinks somewhere in the city. One afternoon, he sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to a Bulls game that evening since a friend had given him tickets he was unable to use. Despite dating a basketball coach and former player, I wasn’t a fan of the sport. The thought of spending the evening at the United Center with thousands of basketball fans watching grown men chase a ball up and down the court didn’t exactly thrill me either. I would have preferred to spend the evening at home with Darren watching the game on television—if I had to watch it at all. At least at home, we could be ourselves. At a Bulls game, we’d both have to suppress whatever feelings we had for e
