Sleepless nights, wondering if I’ve waited too long. Wondering if my body is even capable of what I want it to do.Why does there have to be a fucking time clock on starting a family?
I shuffle in my seat, my eyes darting around the bar, knowing I’ve got to be the only person in here thinking about this while out at a club.
As I watch the last few players file in the door, an irritating heat rises in my throat as I recognize the one person I try to avoid like the plague—Jordan Boucher.
He struts in wearing jeans and a white T-shirt—probably the most expensive plain white T-shirt known to man, made by some designer I’ve never heard of.
He’s young. He’s cocky. He’s unfairly and ridiculously handsome and,dammit,he knows it. He flaunts his wealth wearing designer everything. I’ve been around enough pompous assholes like him, their noses in the air and steeped in an attitude of being better than everyone, to recognize one instantly.
Every time we land, he waltzes down the aisle of the jet,my jet, and says hi to me with a smirk on his face like he owns the damn aircraft. To my knowledge, the team owns it, not that rich playboy. I see him in the tabloids, his arm draped around another girl in every picture. Pardon me for being the only female in America who doesn’t want to be associated with him.
Growing up, my mom worked her ass off for everything we had. Tapping my fingers on the table, I can’t help the corners of my lips crawling up my face, thinking about what a freaking rock star she is. She worked two jobs, made sure I went to the best schools, and did it all with a smile on her face. I knew how hard she worked, some days just so we could have food on the table. She always pushed me to be the best. To have more than she did. To never take anything we have for granted, and that hard work is the way to get what you want in life. And I fucking did that, and I’m damn proud of myself. And the fact that a guy like him just waltzed through life without a care in the world? My teeth grind, the bitter taste of his entitlement lingering on my mouth.
He’s probably never had to work a day in his life.
And now he’s made his way over to the bar, chatting up the bartender like he’s her best friend.Probably offering her a bunch of money to clear out the club so they can have it all to themselves.My friends and I typically go to Walt’s on Water,the best bar in all of Milwaukee, but decided to change it up for Benny’s last night in town.
I’m quickly regretting that decision.
“Kenni? Earth to Kennedy!” I’m jolted from my thoughts as Benny waves his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. I look down at the table in front of me and see the fresh drink slowly melting.Shit.Fuck that jerk-face, pretty-boy, as usual, distracting everyone. I didn’t even notice the waitress drop it off.
My arms tense as I practically strangle the two limes into the glass before picking it up and swirling it around, taking a bigger swig than I probably should.Why do I let this asshole get me so riled up?Maybe it’s because on top of his effortless life, he actuallyisgood-looking. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve been with someone. Maybe it’s the giant gulp of alcohol I just took, but with another few drinks, I would consider letting caution go to the wind with someone that hot.Whoa, girl…abort mission.For fucks sake I have bottles of gin older than him. I’m not going there. I amnevergoing there. Despite his hotness, I could never put up with a conceited, egotistical, privileged rich boy like Jordan Boucher.
3
jordan
She’s. Here. Oh my God,she’s here. My eyes found her through the sea of people faster than a Where’s Waldo world champion as my pulse raced in my chest harder than the EDM song playing at the club.Does she see me? Does she know I’m here?My stomach drops as I see theannoyed look on her face.Shedefinitelyknows I’m here.
“Bougie! You’re spacing out again!” Connor McKenzie, our backup goalie, yells over the loud music.Shit.I’m for sure spacing right now—I always am when she’s around. “Where you at tonight, man? Wait…are you daydreaming about your bobblehead night tomorrow? I’m so fucking jealous, asshole!”
I shake the cobwebs from my brain, trying to remember I’m here to be the life of the party.Snap out of it, Jordan!
“Yeah, man, I’m pumped as shit! My own little mini-me. Dreams can come true,” I gush, placing my hand over my heart.
“Dude, if your head gets any bigger, you and your bobblehead aren’t going to fit through the arena exit tomorrow,” EJ says, his arm slung around his girlfriend Natalie. I roll my eyes, giving him a weak punch on his shoulder. They started seeing each other a couple of months back, and this is their first public reveal as a couple.
She seems nice, but I just get a weird feeling from her that she’s not into him for the right reasons.Especially since EJ asked me where to get her diamond earrings for their debut.He has never been known for having impeccable taste in women. Everyone gets on me for having a different girl on my arm every time they see me on the news, but EJ tends to chase the ones who throw themselves at him.Then again, maybe I’m just jealous because the one who I want to be throwing herself at me looks like she’d rather throw me off the top of a building.
“Listen, I know we all get specialty placement on tickets and stuff,” EJ continues, “but why did they have to give you and your giant ego a bobblehead?”
“You know what, EJ, that hurts,” I say mockingly. “It’s not my fault Jordan Joseph Boucher was born with a jawline perfectly ready for merchandising.”
EJ scoffs as Natalie nuzzles into his chest. “More like a jaw perfect for punching.”
“Oh, dear God…I’m going to puke,” Tay groans, looking a little green.
“Are you sick from the shots or from Bougie’s ego?” Mac asks him.
“Why not both?” Tay replies with a Joker-like smile and a more chipper tone than normal. He usually doesn’t drink much, and I’m starting to see why.
“Come on, guys! We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to celebrate Tay!” I shout, hoping to hide my level of distraction from my teammates. “And, of course, I’m here to provide Tay with everything he’s ever wanted.”
Tay’s eyes widen with horror. “And what, exactly, is it that I’ve always wanted?”
“Entertainment!!!!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I run toward the bar. “Hit it, Ashley!” The DJ, who has been waiting for my cue, throws her thumb up over the crowd, a smile barelyrestrained across her face. I hear EJ mumble something like ‘lord help us’ as I hop onto the bar while Devil Went Down to Georgia pounds through the speakers.
4
