Play Along(95)

“So, I’ll see you soon then.” His words are even, emotionless, nonchalant.

I can read right through it. He doesn’t want to get hurt.

“Couple days.”

He lifts his hat, running a palm over his hair before replacing it. “Have fun. Be safe. Drink water.”

“All right, Mom.”

“Don’t forget about me,” he adds with a spark of humor, but his teasing grin quickly falls.

I couldn’t if I tried.

“Tomorrow before the game, if Sanderson is the one taping your wrists, make sure he does it the way I showed you. Because sometimes he does it too tight. If you need to, Facetime me pre-game, I can walk him through it—”

Isaiah’s teasing smirk is back.

I have yet to miss a game or practice since I started with the Warriors, and I’m having a serious case of apprehensiveness, knowing that tomorrow’s night game will be the first without me.

“I’m sure he’ll do fine,” I correct.

“He’s not you, that’s for damn sure. You’ll be missed, Kenny, and not just by me. The boys will miss seeing you at the clubhouse tomorrow too.”

“Don’t forget about me,” I repeat his words.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

“Hey! Let’s go.” It’s the same security guard as before. “This is a drop-off zone. Get your car out of here.”

“I should . . .” I throw a thumb over my shoulder, gesturing towards the baggage drop off.

He nods in agreement but doesn’t say anything.

“Okay. So I’ll see you soon then?”

He nods again. “Couple days.”

The silence is awkward, neither of us knowing what to do, so I turn on my heel and walk towards the entrance, towing my suitcase behind me.

I might not have any concrete answers as to what’s happening between us, but it sure as hell isn’t this.

When I turn back, Isaiah’s head is dropped, hands in his pockets, rounding the car for the driver’s side door.

“Isaiah!” I call out to stop him.

When he lifts to look at me, it’s with so much hope.

“You know what I’ve never done before? One of those long, sweeping goodbye kisses at the airport.”

He tries to hold back his smile. “Is that so?”

“I’d like to knock off another one of those firsts if you don’t mind.”

He tosses his head back and forth in faux contemplation. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon, Rhodes.” My tone is teasing. “Play along.”

His head falls back in a laugh before he jogs towards me. I meet him partway, abandoning my suitcase for him.

Hands cupping my jaw, his lips crash down on mine in a slow, all-encompassing kiss. Soft lips, but firm and commanding. I’m entirely under his spell when my mouth parts, allowing his tongue to slide against mine.

That’s when I moan against him. In public. I lean into him. In public. I’m arching and bending as if there were a way I could get closer to him. My hands bracket his face, pulling him into me.

One of his arms snakes down to my neck, wrapping around, while his other hand glides down to cup my ass. Right there in front of the airport.

And with full control of my body, he leans down, dipping me like we’re in some kind of goddamn Lifetime movie, and still his mouth never leaves mine.

We straighten, never losing contact, and when my arms are around his shoulders, he arches back, lifting me right off my feet. When my fingers slide up into his hair, Isaiah’s hat falls to the ground, but still that doesn’t stop us.

I think someone whistles next to us, but I’m not paying much mind. My main focus is on this man that I’m going to miss more than a healthy amount in the next forty-eight hours. The man I thought I couldn’t stand for most of the time I’ve known him.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I’m possessed by him. I had barely touched Connor when we were together, and never in public. And here I am, going at it like some uncontrollable horny teenager with the guy I drunkenly married in Vegas.

“Goddamn,” someone says next to us.

That finally breaks the moment, our mouths separating. We’re both short of breath and trying to catch it when our attention shifts to the side, finding that same security guard watching us.

“Let me guess,” he says. “Newlyweds?”

“Yeah.” Isaiah laughs. “Something like that.”

He sets me back on my feet. Back on my platform Vans, and when he bends down to retrieve his discarded hat from the ground, he taps them, silently teasing me for constantly wearing the shoes we got married in.

“You’re going to be great, Kenny. Don’t miss your flight.” He positions his team hat on my head. “This is so you don’t forget me.”

I secure it so it doesn’t fall off. “Couldn’t if I tried.”



“And this is the weight room.”

Immaculate, state-of-the-art equipment lines the wall. Towels are neatly folded and ready for tomorrow. San Francisco’s logo paints every free surface, making it impossible not to know whose team this room belongs to.

“There’s a sauna and a steam room attached back there,” Josh says. “Everything we have is for both the team and staff to use, so when you officially get out here, make yourself at home. Upper management is good to their employees here.”