Play Along(91)

My fingers twirl the ends of his hair. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be comfortable with someone the way I am with you.”

Fuck, that didn’t come out right.

A heavy pause lingers between us.

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” he eventually says. “I know that’s what you want.”

It’s supposed to be said in an encouraging way, but his voice is full of defeat.

But what if I don’t? The question is on the tip of my tongue because that’s what I meant.

I don’t think there’s any part of me that wants to be this comfortable with someone else.





Chapter 24


Isaiah


The ride to my apartment is silent.

I offered to swing by her place tonight, let her change and grab her suitcase for tomorrow, but she assured me she would have time before her flight and would rather we just get home.

Yes, home. As if it were both of ours and not just mine. As if she doesn’t have her own penthouse apartment eight blocks away. Ridiculous fantasies were playing on a loop after she threw that word out, and I had to quickly shut them down.

I’m driving with my left hand on the wheel, my right one resting on her thigh, stroking a repeated pattern with my thumb. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Like a silent apology she says she doesn’t need.

I hated every word that came out of my mouth in that hallway, regardless that they were true. I never wanted to admit to her that I knew she wasn’t interested, simply because I wasn’t ready for her to agree.

If it were any other day, maybe I could’ve laughed it off, let her explain to me how some guy hit on her while I held in my bitterness towards our fucked-up situation. Maybe I wouldn’t have shown how much it hurts to not only know she’s going to move on after me but have to physically see it happen before my eyes.

She barely entertained him, simply spoke to him enough to not be rude. But he looked like he could’ve been another rich asshole her parents would’ve forced her to marry, and I snapped.

Today I’m fucking wrecked, emotionally wrung out from the realization that next season, I will once again be alone. Kennedy flies out for her interview tomorrow, and sure, Kai will still be living in Chicago, but it’s different knowing that he won’t be on the field with me ever again. I didn’t expect his retirement to come so soon.

And I took it out on her.

Because she’s leaving me too. We all know she’s getting that job, and I’m tired of people I care about not sticking around. I play it safe, hoping if I’m enough of a laugh, if they have a good enough time around me, they’ll stay. It never works. Kennedy’s leaving anyway, so I guess I thought she may as well see all the facets of me I’m too scared to show everyone else before she goes.

Jaded, and bitter, and really fucking tired.

God, I’m so fucking tired.

When I park in my spot outside of my apartment, I kill the engine and sit. Too exhausted to move and too ashamed of how I was with her to say anything.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes until Kennedy gets out of the car and rounds the hood to open my door.

“Come on,” she says, standing there in that pretty white dress.

“I was going to open the door for you. You didn’t give me a chance.”

A knowing smile lifts on her lips. “You were going to fall asleep if you sat there any longer.”

She holds her hand out for mine and leads me into my apartment building, as if she’s been here countless times before and knows her way around.

I like it far too much.

She chuckles to herself when she sees the Bless this Mess doormat, and when she goes inside, she doesn’t hesitate to kick her heels off by the couch and turn her back to me, holding her hair up with both hands.

Crossing the room, I take my time undoing the top buttons of her dress, fully expecting her to use a hand on her chest to hold the fabric up.

She doesn’t.

She continues to hold her hair, letting the dress fold over her waist.

And when I slowly unzip the part that connects just above her ass, I practically choke when she lets the entire thing fall and pool at her feet.

My wife stands there, butt-ass naked in the middle of my living room. The only thing on her body is her jewelry.

Hands dropping, her auburn hair falls over her back as she walks right to my room, moving slowly and allowing me to watch, done in a way that her heart-shaped ass sways with each step.

Fucking mesmerizing, seeing Kennedy Kay walk her naked self into my bedroom.

“I thought you wanted me to go to bed,” I call out.

“You are. But I thought I’d give you a little reminder that you told me you wouldn’t have sex with me tonight.”

“You’re not a nice woman. I’m not sure if anyone has told you that.”

She shoots me a devastating smile over her shoulder, and when she reaches the door to my bedroom, she taps her fingers on the “live, laugh, love” sign. That grin instantly turns cute and teasing before she slips into my room.

I want to follow her, toss her on the bed, and change my mind about not fucking her tonight. Maybe see if the lesson she wants to learn next is how to ride my cock.

But I’m not wrong here. It was an emotional night and I don’t think I could survive if Kennedy woke up tomorrow and looked at me with regret.