Play Along(53)

I love this.

I love game days and I love my job.

I love working on athletes and the one benefit of being an athletic trainer over a team doctor is that I get to work on them every single day.

Will, our second doctor, does a good amount of therapy too, but I couldn’t tell you the last time Dr. Fredrick was hands-on in the training room. As Head of the Health and Wellness Department, he’s too busy working on schedules, overseeing the nutritionists and strength training coaches, and being the department’s face.

The only time he has any real involvement is when one of the players has a serious injury or surgery and we have to run our rehabilitation plans through him.

That’s it. That’s the only thing he does that we can’t.

It’s something I’ll have to look into if I get the position with San Francisco. I don’t want to be stuck at a desk doing paperwork. I want to do exactly what I’m doing now, but with the title of Lead Doctor.

And judging by that call I got a few days ago, I might be having that conversation sooner rather than later.

“You’re all set, Cody.” I toss his specific tape aside as our first baseman flexes his hand, making sure his mobility is still there, regardless of his taped fingers.

“Thanks, Ken. Where are you working today?”

“Clubhouse.”

“Again?” Cody’s brows furrow in confusion.

I’ve been stuck covering the clubhouse for the past five games. The medical staffer who is left to cover the clubhouse is essentially a floater. We’re there to help out if extra hands are needed in either the visitor or home training rooms. We watch the game on one of the four giant televisions hung in the center of the room, but most of the time, we simply sit and wait for the game to be over.

But it’s not hydration, so I’m not complaining. Dr. Fredrick hasn’t made that mistake again after Reese put him in his place for assigning me as the water girl on Opening Day.

“I don’t mind,” I assure him.

“What the hell did you do to piss off Dr. Fredrick so badly?”

“I married your best friend.”

Cody’s eyes twinkle. “A fact you seemed perfectly okay with while we were in St. Louis.”

I wave him off. “I had too much to drink, thanks to you.”

“You had one drink thanks to me.”

“Well, then we can call it a fleeting moment of weakness.”

“You call it whatever you want if it’ll make you feel better, but you don’t need to justify it to me. I get it.”

“You get it, huh?” My lips tilt in amusement. “You got a thing for my husband, Cody?”

“Isaiah?” He barks a laugh. “Fuck no. Isaiah is too pretty for my tastes. I like them a little more rugged. I meant that I understand if your opinion of him has changed now that you’re getting to know him. He’s my best friend for a reason. On the surface, he comes off like this arrogant little shit, but deep down, he has a heart of gold and maybe you’re starting to see that.”

I have seen it. The protectiveness while we were at dinner with my family. The lack of judgment when I explained my inexperience in the dating world.

I ignore the rest of Cody’s statement. “He is pretty, isn’t he?”

“Who’s pretty?”

My attention snaps up to find Isaiah standing behind Cody, only wearing a backwards hat and a pair of shorts, holding a paper cup in his hand.

I try to keep my eyes on that pretty face instead of that pretty chest, those pretty abs, or those stupidly pretty arms.

Cody covers for me. “This guy I went out with last night. I was just showing Kennedy a picture.” He hops off the training table. “See you guys later. Thanks for the tape job, Kenny!”

“Excuse me?” Isaiah whirls in his direction. “What did you just call her?”

There’s absolutely no confusion on Cody’s smirking face as he walks backwards towards the exit. “What? I called her Kenny. Isn’t that what you call her?”

“And in what fucking world does that mean you get to call her that?”

Cody’s head falls back in laughter, muttering “Lovesick motherfucker” as he leaves the training room.

“Shithead.” Isaiah’s scowl turns into a smile as he turns back to face me. “There’s the Mrs.”

“Do you lay awake at night thinking of names you know will annoy the shit out of me or what?”

He sits on the now vacant training table, making us almost eye to eye.

“No.” He takes a sip of whatever is in his cup. “I lay awake at night thinking about those noises you made while I was kissing you and wondering how much louder you’d be if instead of your mouth, my tongue was on your—”

“Isaiah Rhodes!”

He gasps. “Kennedy Rhodes!” His smile is all mischief as he hooks a foot around my calf, pulling me to stand between his legs. “Hi.”

I shoot him a glare. “Hi.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I don’t see how that’s physically possible when you’ve already come to see me four times today, trying to feed me.”

Without thought, my hands land on his thighs in front of me.

Isaiah looks down and I catch the suppressed smile on his lips.