Kennedy
“Why exactly are we doing this?” I ask Miller as we both position ourselves in downward dog in my hotel room in St. Louis.
“Yoga is supposed to be good for stress.”
Hanging upside down, I glance over to her. “You’re stressed?”
“No. But you must be. You are married to my brother-in-law, after all.”
A laugh instantly bubbles out of me, and it only grows louder when Max, Isaiah’s nephew, mirrors our position, hands and feet on the ground, booty in the air.
“Good job, Bug!” Miller encourages. “You’re better than both me and Auntie Ken!”
Miller and Kai have referred to me as Auntie Ken for a while now. It just feels a little differently now that, legally, I am.
Facing the window, opposite the door, I lean into the stretch. We’ve been on the road for over a week, and my body is feeling the stiffness of the constant flights and sleeping in a bed that’s not mine.
I can’t imagine how Isaiah’s feeling. Well, actually I can. I’ve had to work on his back, shoulders, and hips before each game because he insists on sleeping on the floor. I’ve offered him the bed to himself. I’ve offered to share. And still he takes the floor each night.
It’s been over a week since I asked him to touch me, to teach me how to touch him, and he has yet to try anything.
Miller is right. I am stressed being married to her brother-in-law because I’ve been on my toes, eager and nervous, all week, waiting for him to try something. Anything.
I don’t know what he’s waiting for, or maybe he changed his mind.
There’s a nagging part of my brain that’s berating myself for asking him to help me in the first place. I should’ve done the work myself. Gone to
therapy. Dealt with my issues alone without involving someone else. I should’ve fixed myself in silence.
“Okay, yeah. Screw this.” Miller drops to her knees, sitting on her heels, but I continue to stretch, extending through my heels and elongating my calves and hamstrings.
The door opens behind me while I’m in my pose and I look through my legs to find Isaiah leaning against the doorframe of our hotel room, arms crossed over his chest, cheeky smirk on his lips, and eyes on my ass.
The blood rushes to my cheeks and not just because I’m upside down.
But still I don’t break my pose. Instead, I stretch further, ass on display as much as I can make it, because for the first time since I’ve known him, I want to tempt my husband.
Isaiah chuckles under his breath, muttering, “Fuck my life,” quietly enough his nephew can’t hear him.
“There’s my boy.” Kai charges right at his son, playfully tackling him, wrestling with him on the ground and covering his cheek with kisses. He reaches over, hooking an arm over Miller’s shoulders and pulling her into their pile. “And my girl.”
Max’s giggles fill the room.
I drop onto my yoga mat and can’t help but smile as I watch them. Max completely changed Kai’s life, and Miller turned both those boys’ worlds upside down last summer. But in the same way, those boys changed her too, and I couldn’t be happier that my friend found everything she was missing.
I look back to Isaiah, expecting to find him watching his family, but instead his eyes are glued on me.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
Miller sits up. “Kennedy, what are you wearing tonight?”
I motion to the leggings and sweatshirt on my body, confused. “This.” “You’re not coming out for Cody’s birthday?” Kai asks.
“No.”
“Wait. Why not?” That’s Isaiah piping up from his spot at the door. “Because I never go out with the team.”
“Yeah, but I flew out for this,” Miller says.
I laugh. “You flew out because Kai was trying to fly home on our day off to see you, but Monty wouldn’t let him.”
Miller shrugs. “Well, yeah, that too.”
“Ken,” Isaiah says. “No one is going to give you a hard time for going out with us. We’re technically married. It’d be weirder if you didn’t go out with us.”
“Yeah, you should go.” Kai lays on the floor, holding Max’s hands as he walks across his stomach. “Even I’m going.” He tickles his son. “Maxie boy is hanging out with his grandpa Monty tonight, huh?”
Max giggles again, folding over his dad’s hands in laughter.
I had a whole night planned. I was going to finish my crossword, use a new face mask, and be in bed by 9:30 since I have an early showtime at the field tomorrow.
But I’m also trying new things. That’s what the next few months are about and being spontaneous by doing something that’s not penciled in my planner for the day would be very new for me.
“Okay,” I say. “I guess I’ll go.”
“That’s my girl!” Miller hops up from the ground with excitement. “See you in a few. I have beers stocked in the mini fridge in Kai’s room so come grab one when you’re ready!”
“Of course she fucking does.” Kai pats his brother’s shoulder as the three of them make their way out of our room.
Isaiah keeps his eyes on me. “So, you’re going out with me tonight.
Willingly, might I add.” “It’s Cody’s birthday.”
“Cody, my best friend.” He takes a step closer, into the room, and I don’t move from my spot.
“And Miller is in town.”
“My sister-in-law.” Another step in my direction. “You really need to make this about yourself, huh?”
“Of course I do.” That timely smirk makes its appearance. “Put me out of my misery, Kenny, and tell me you’re coming for me.”
That phrase could be taken in an entirely different way, and as much as I try not to imagine the alternate meaning, I still feel my cheeks warm.
“I’m trying new things, remember?” I raise a brow. “Or have you forgotten? Because it seems like you may have forgotten.”
His head falls in laughter. “Trust me, Ken. There’s not a second that’s gone by in the last week that I’ve forgotten about the new things you want
to try.”
“That’s weird. Because I’ve been waiting for you to remember.” “I know you have.”
“So, when are you going to do something about that?” “When you least expect it.”
But I’m always expecting it now. Every time we’re in the same room, I’m expecting it. No, expecting isn’t the right word. I’m hoping that he tries something.
I crane my neck to look up at him. He’s invading my space, my chest almost to his stomach. Isaiah softly moves my hair behind my ears, cupping my jaw, his thumbs slowly stroking over my cheekbones. His sparkling brown eyes bounce over my entire face, taking me in. The pads of his fingers grip the back of my neck. His breath dusts over my skin.
My pulse is thundering, beating wildly with anticipation, and it only pounds faster when he licks his lips and leans down.
Eyes closing, I suck a breath, expecting, waiting, but instead, he drags his lips across my jaw until his mouth meets my ear. “Lesson number one, Kennedy. You can’t pencil affection into your little planner, so stop overthinking it.”
He finishes that with a chaste kiss on the pounding pulse point under my ear, and I’m left panting for this man.
The tilt on his lips screams that he knows the tables have turned. We’re both aware that for the first time since we’ve known each other, I’m waiting on him instead of the other way around.
And he fucking loves it.
I don’t know if I can handle the spontaneity. If it were up to me, I’d schedule out an hour a day when I knew he would be touching me.
Isaiah rounds my body, right to his open suitcase, pulling out his clothes for tonight, laying a pair of khaki-colored pants on the bed, followed by a bright red tee and his olive-green jacket. He proceeds to dig out a clean pair of boxer briefs and two socks. One navy-blue, the other black.
Maybe I should let him go out in that outfit.
Maybe other women will stay away from the guy dressed like it’s Christmas in April.
But is that what I want?
Surprisingly, I think I do want other women to stay away from him. Which is unfortunate for me because I know no matter what the guy is wearing, women have never been able to stay away from Isaiah Rhodes.
He’s got this knowing smile on his lips when he says, “So now that I’ve held your hand and you’ve laid one on me, should we just skip ahead to the showering together lesson or do you want to go first?”
He motions towards the bathroom with a naughty twinkle in his eye, and all I can think about is whether or not that’s really a lesson he has planned.
I don’t think I’ll mind learning a thing or two from my husband. I clear my throat. “You go ahead first.”
Standing there in front of me, not moving a centimeter, he reaches over his head and takes his shirt off. Isaiah doesn’t even bother to act like he doesn’t want me to see every single inch of him, and I don’t try to hide my staring.
“Eyes are up here, wifey.”
“I’m a doctor, Rhodes. Aced anatomy, in fact. I know where your eyes are located. I just don’t care right now.”
I keep my attention on the lines in his stomach, the way they coil and move with his laughter. I want to touch them. My fingers are itching to make contact, to test the warmth of his skin, to splay out against the tan and toned planes of his stomach.
But I don’t do anything because I’m a coward.
Isaiah reaches out for me, his hands gently gripping my wrists. Looking up, I visually check in with him to find him carefully watching me.
He brings my hands to his body, pressing my palms to his stomach, and as soon as we make contact, he sucks in a sharp inhale.
“Sorry, cold hands.” I attempt to pull away, but he keeps me connected to him.
“Perfect hands.” Oh.
His skin is warm, his stomach is taut. He’s big, towering over me, and my hands seem comically small in comparison to his body. These are things I don’t notice at work because why would I? I’ve never noticed the way his breath hitches when I spread my fingers over him or how pleasingly his tan skin contrasts against my fair complexion.
I slowly run my palms over his abs, curving over his obliques.
His breaths grow ragged as he steps into me.
Slipping my hands around to his back, Isaiah wraps his arms over my shoulders in a hug.
“That feels good,” he says quietly, his cheek curved into mine.
“Yeah?” I slowly move my palms up and down the length of his spine, rubbing his back.
“Mm-hmm. You don’t have to wait for me, Kenny. You can touch me whenever you want, okay? Don’t overthink it.”
I nod against him.
His hold on me doesn’t loosen to let go. Instead, he closes me tighter in a hug.
I don’t remember the last time someone hugged me. Maybe last season when Miller threw her arms around me in the training room. That was nice. Unexpected, but nice.
This is different from that hug. That felt like I was someone’s friend. This feels like I’m someone’s everything.
Keeping his arms folded over my shoulders, he moves his lips by my ear. “I’m glad you’re coming out with us tonight.”
“You might change your mind about that when you realize having your wife around is probably going to be a total cockblock for you.”
He doesn’t laugh at my joke. “That’s perfectly fine by me. I’d rather be hanging out with you all night, anyway.” Isaiah presses his lips to the top of my head. “But now I need to go take a very long and very cold shower after having your hands all over me, so thanks for that.”
With that, he releases me from his hug and heads into the bathroom.
I don’t know how true that statement really is that he’d rather be hanging out with me, but I like the possibility that it could be. Because, admittedly and shockingly, Isaiah Rhodes is far from my least favorite person to be around.
I wait until I hear the water running before I take the navy-blue sock from the pile of clothes on the bed and search for its partner in Isaiah’s suitcase, folding them together. Then I grab the rogue black one and place it on the bed for him to wear tonight.
