Play Along(77)

“Is that why you want me to go?”

I run a palm over her denim-covered thigh. “You know that’s not the reason I want you to go, but if you need to tell yourself that’s the reason you’re willing to, then you can.”

She doesn’t hesitate for a moment when she says, “I don’t need to tell myself anything.”

Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip, and it takes everything in me to keep from closing the two inches of space between us and pressing my mouth to hers. But the room is crowded with people she works for and though she’s getting accustomed to physical affection, I’m not sure she’s ready for the public display variety.

Kennedy’s phone dings in her lap, breaking the moment, and my eyes can’t help but land on the name that pops onto her phone.

Connor Danforth.

“Why is he texting you?”

She shrugs. “He hasn’t stopped since that dinner in Atlanta.”

I sit up straighter against the wall. “What?”

She opens her messages to show me the screen with dates of texts ranging from weeks ago until today. She hasn’t responded once.



Connor Danforth: Whatever the hell you’re doing with that guy is a fucking joke. Break it off, Kennedy. It’s not a good look for your family.

Connor Danforth: If you’re not responding because of what Mallory said, you really need to get over it. What did you expect? You wouldn’t even touch me. Of course I had to look elsewhere.

Connor Danforth: I wanted it to be you. Sometimes I still want it to be you.

Connor Danforth: Did you really cheat on me with that guy?

Connor Danforth: You’re not going to answer me? We were engaged and you can’t even give me the courtesy of a response? What the hell happened to make you so fucking cold, Kennedy?



I snatch the phone from her, my thumbs moving a mile a minute across the screen as the seething anger spills out of me.

“Don’t.” Kennedy places her hand over mine to stop me. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fuck that, Ken. He’s harassing you.”

“I don’t care.”

Her face is entirely impassive as if she really doesn’t care. As if he’s truly not affecting her.

I like that far too much.

“Fine,” I resign, handing her back her phone. “But if he keeps it up, you let me know and I’ll handle it, okay?”

“Okay.” She sets it on the floor, screen down.

With my hand still holding her thigh, I gently run the length of it, rubbing my palm absentmindedly against the denim as we both shift our attention to the game that’s on the TV.

My teammates shoot the shit around us, the house rowdy as hell, but Kennedy and I sit in complete silence. Me softly rubbing the inside of her thigh and her head awfully close to resting on my shoulder.

We stay that way for an entire inning before Kennedy quietly asks, “Do you think I’m cold?” for only me to hear.

I could fucking kill him.

With the back of my hand, I test her forehead. “You feel pretty warm to me.”

“Isaiah, I’m being serious. I think something is wrong with me.”

I adjust to face her. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you and fuck him for making you think there is, Kennedy. No one has ever been warm to you, including that guy, so how would you know how to be anything different?”

“So you do think I’m cold?”

I let out a slow breath.

“Yeah, maybe I do. But I don’t think that’s wrong or bad or something that needs to be fixed. It’s part of your personality. You’re a little reserved. A bit hesitant towards people.” I take her hand in mine and she doesn’t resist for a moment. “But it also feels like I won the fucking lottery knowing you’re no longer hesitant towards me. I like that you’re a tough one to crack, because when I say something stupid and get to see you smile, I know it’s only for me. And that smile, it’s all warmth.”

Her brows are furrowed, her lips slightly parted. She’s looking at me as if she can’t believe I could like her cold exterior. As if I couldn’t like that she hasn’t made it easy for me. I’m not sure how she doesn’t see it. It’s been years, and there hasn’t been a single thing Kennedy has done or said that hasn’t kept me coming back for more.

“Besides,” I continue, toying with the ring on her finger. “Winter has always been my favorite season anyway.”

She bursts this unpolished, un-Kennedy-like laugh, her smile I was hoping to see coming back to life.

“I can’t win with you sometimes,” she says before dropping her head to my shoulder and leaving it there.

There’s no denying it. I’m an absolute fool when it comes to this girl.





Chapter 21


Isaiah


“I’m almost ready!”

Leaning back against the sink, I cross my arms over my chest. “Take your time, Kenny. They won’t start without us.”

I don’t want it to start at all.

Under the bathroom stall, I can see her hopping around on a single foot as she hurriedly tries to slip on her other high heel.

Dr. Fredrick tried his hardest to force Kennedy to work in the training room tonight, cleaning, organizing, and reordering medical supplies while he and the other staff attended my brother’s ceremony. Reese found out and put a quick stop to that, but still he had Kennedy working until the last possible minute, which had me bringing her dress, shoes, and jewelry to the bathroom for her to quickly change.