After handshakes and celebrations, I grab a quick shower and change back into my suit. As I head out of the locker room, I see most of the WAGs waiting in the hallway for us. Maggie, Olivia, Kara, and—oh my God. My jaw drops, my stomach twisting into knots.Breathe, Jordan…Breathe.Standing next to Kara, wearing a blue embroidered jacket with the number sixty-eight on the sleeve, is Kennedy. She’s wearingmy number.Am I allowed to cry? Cause I kinda want to cry. Girls cry in movies all the time; why can’t I, dammit?! But I suck in a sharp breath and flash her a smile as I get close.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Great start, Jordan. Maybe say more than one word next time.“So…what’s this?” I say, pointing to her jacket. “You’re wearing my number?”
“I’m technically your girlfriend, so…yeah.” She bites her lip as she leans against the concrete wall. “Also, Maggie said I had to.”
I look over to Maggie, who gives me a wink and mouths ‘you’re welcome.’Does she know I have a thing for Kennedy?How much does she know? Do her and Vladi sit and gossip about us at night? I can’t really picture that. I feel like she asks him how his day was, and he just grunts.
“I’m flattered. It’s kind of a big deal to have someone wear your number.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Are you, um,” —I swallow back the nerves that have my throat closing up— “are you coming out with everyone after the game? We’re all going to Walt’s to celebrate.”
She forces a smile that sends my heart plummeting to the floor. “I don’t know; I’m kind of tired. I think I’m just going to?—”
“Oh no, you don’t!” Kara shouts as she and Olivia quickly move to her side, looping their arms around hers. “Kennedy Kramer, you are coming out with us. My parents are taking the kids home, and we’re going to spend thisone nightcelebrating. We have no idea when they’ll be at home for a series clinch again, so we are going to have a good time!”
“Yes, Kennedy, you have to come! There is no excuse. You don’t work tomorrow. The team has an off day. You don’t have Guard stuff,” Olivia says, counting out the reasons on her fingers. “You’re coming.”
“Well,” Maggie chimes in, “sounds like Kara and Liv have my speech covered. So, it’s settled. You’re coming.”
I dig my fingernail into my palm, trying to hold back the smile as these feisty women gang up on her. And every word they say gives me a little more hope she’ll say yes. She looks at her friends, who are all giving her a look like they know she’s about to make up another excuse. Her brows narrow as a fake smile creeps across her face. “I guess I can come for a couple drinks.”
“Great!” Maggie grins. “You’re riding with Bougie. We’ll see you guys there!”
“What?!” Kennedy and I both shout, looking at Maggie wide eyed.
“Yes! You’re dating. You have to ride together. It’s the law. WAG law. See you there!”
My heart jumps from the floor back into my chest, beating fast and hard.Is she riding with me? In my car?We haven’t been together in a car since…since…the most powerful, explosive, mind-blowing, life-altering kiss in the history of the world.
What the fuck do I do?
29
kennedy
I’m going to strangle Maggie.Hello, awkward—party of two—here for our reservation of a cringe-worthy car ride. Because we kissed and have not talked about it. We’ve sent a few texts here and there to coordinate things—each one from him having a ridiculous amount of emojis. During away games, we’ve still, somehow, had adjoining rooms. And every time I arrive at the hotel, my mini-bar is fully stocked with all of the ingredients for my gin and tonic—fresh ice and limes included. Every night, I make my drink, sit on my bed, and stare at the door between our rooms, wondering why the hell I’m lusting after my fake boyfriend.
And now here we are, walking through the tunnels of the arena to the player parking lot. Our footsteps echoing off the concrete are the only sound cutting the thick tension. And with each step, I remind myself this isn’t real.It could never be.He’s too young. Too cocky. Too…way too fucking handsome. Based on my very rational and very analytical analysis, we could never work. It’s like flying. Follow the flight plan and arrive at the destination. My brain is well aware of how this works, but my body seems to only remember that goddamn kiss. And his biceps. And his thick as hell thighs. And—no.Hell no.I can’t gothere. He needs to focus on the playoffs. And I need to focus on literally anything else. I pick at my cuticles because if I don’t, I’m not sure my mind will win this war; it’s raging with my hormones.
Walking past the rows of player cars, I realize I don’t even know what kind of car myboyfrienddrives. I’m guessing it’s some sort of tricked-out sports car I can’t pronounce with every extra imaginable. He comes to a stop beside a black Range Rover. Is it expensive? Yes. But at least the doors don’t open in an upward motion.
“Huh.”
His face crumples. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’snotnothing. You just said ‘huh.’ What was the ‘huh’ for?”
“I just…I just figured you’d have some ridiculously expensive sports car with weird doors.”
He winces, his jaw clenching as if the sting of my words hit deeper than he’s willing to admit. My stomach churns. Maybe I went a step too far?Ugh…why am I such a bitch?His eyes narrow.
