Brianna mutters something to herself before saying, “I’ll be back.”
We wait exactly ten seconds before bursting into rib-squeezing cackles. Kenzie pushes her forehead into my shoulder, squeaky sounds alternating with belly-deep guffaws. One of my hands grips her waist while the other braces the door so I don’tcollapse atop her as I laugh so hard I stop making sound. When Kenzie glances up, tears stream down her face, and the two of us start up all over again.
“That was—” My sentence breaks off in a laugh. “How do you come up with this stuff?”
Kenzie shrugs, her eyes shining when they find mine. “It only seems to happen when you’re around.”
My thumb gives her cheek an affection sweep before I unlock the door. Then we’re glancing down the hall and running hand and hand, like two kids trying not to get caught stealing cookies from the kitchen. We swing through the clubhouse, grab my bag, and giggle all the way to my truck.
Kenzie smiles at me when I toss my bag in the truck bed and press her against the closed passenger door like she had the same exact thought. I keep this kiss brief, though, because there’s a chill in the almost-midnight air, and I don’t want Kenzie to get cold. After helping her into her seat, I jog toward mine.
As I drive, I listen to Kenzie’s version of tonight’s adventure—from getting kicked out initially to being upset that her jersey and sign are still in the trunk of Mallory’s sports car.
“You’re going to have to wait a few days to make another sign,” I tell her, bringing our joined hands to my lips so I can kiss her knuckles. “I’ll need to submit a formal appeal in writing, and it’ll probably take a few days for approval.”
“I’ll write an apology letter and promise that I’ll never disregard the rules of the stadium again.” Kenzie chews on herbottom lip. “I can also volunteer character witnesses to testify that I’m usually a law-abiding citizen. Former teachers. My pastor. Whatever they need.”
A soft chuckle leaves my mouth. “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”
We ride in silence for a few minutes while I gather the courage to tell her the rest of the information that Patrick told me.
I squeeze her fingers. “We also need to talk about Aaron. One last time.”
“Okay.” Kenzie tucks a knee onto the seat, turning toward me.
“The only reason Aaron is still on the team is because Patrick convinced him not to press charges against you tonight.” My gaze darts toward Kenzie’s stunned face before I force myself to focus on the road. “Apparently, he’d been planning on trading Aaron to Memphis for a while. Tonight’s abysmal performance had cinched his decision, but…”
“But then I tried to knock his teeth in.”
A chuff leaves my nose as I smile. “It’s more like he suffered the consequences of his actions.”
“Patrick has a handshake agreement with Aaron that if he puts in his best effort, stops shaking me off, and actually acts like a teammate instead of a massive tool, he can finish out the season with the Waves. However…” I pause, turning into my neighborhood.
“If Aaron doesn’t follow Patrick’s strict guidelines, he’ll get shipped to Tennessee overnight. That also means that Aaron might come after you. Though he’d be hard pressed to find a witness to corroborate his story since none of the other guys would turn on you.”
I kiss Kenzie’s fingers again, helpless not to. “I know you like to consider yourself the unofficial personal accountant of the Waves, but after tonight, you’re officially a Wave.”
“I didn’t think anyone except the players were Waves.”
My head shakes. “The team is so much bigger than the nine of us on the field. There’s the coaches, ball boys, and clubhouse staff. Also front office personnel and people like Jerry, who’s been serving hot pretzels on the concourse for the last thirty years.”
“I had one of those at my first game! The way he toasts them over an open flame and tops them with parmesan? Perfection.”
“Jerry is the longstanding MVP of culinary delights,” I say through a smile.
“One hundred percent.”
I pull into the garage, putting the truck in park and turning off the engine before shutting the garage door behind us. It’s the only way to keep Jet from trying to escape now that she has free range. Once we open the door to the house, she’ll run a quick lap of the garage before darting back up the stairs. Banks sits in the open threshold, almost shaking his head at her exuberant antics. Then they nose each other and trot off towardthe kitchen, knowing that us being home usually means snack time.
“Stay put a minute,” I tell her before jogging to open her door.
“Why, Mr. Chapman.” Kenzie sets her chin on her fingertips and bats her lashes. “Such a gentleman.”
A smile quirks my lips. She’s acting like I haven’t done this every single time she’s exited my truck.
After helping her down, I box Kenzie against the side of the truck and continue my train of thought. “The most important Waves are the family members who sacrifice their time and energy so we can do what we love. What you did tonight…” I shake my head. “I’ve never felt like I had someone on my side before.”
Kenzie grins up at me. “Get used to it because you’re stuck with me. I’m ready to cheer, or answer media questions, or do whatever is necessary. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
