Page 11 of Play Along

Silver Sparkles is wearing a phony veil with a sash across her chest that reads “Future Mrs. Danforth,” posing for a photo with every one of her friends wearing white around her.

Posing with everyone but Kennedy.

“I was just heading to the bar to grab them another bottle of champagne,” she continues.

The flashes of strobe light make the dark room bright enough to see the endless line surrounding the bar, waiting to order drinks.

“Don’t you girls have a table server? That line at the bar is going to take an hour.”

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

My eyes narrow in confusion. “Come to our table. I can order for you there.”

“Isaiah,” she sighs. “You know I can’t do that. I work for the team.”

“And you’re the only person on the staff who feels like you can’t hang out with us. There are no rules against us being friends.”

“It’s different for me, and you know it.”

As much as I don’t want to agree with her, I know in a way it is different. No, none of the boys on the team would ever think differently of her if she threw back a few drinks with us. We’d still all agree she’s the best athletic trainer on staff, and I’d still be the only person who knew that is because she’s grossly overqualified.

She wouldn’t get in trouble for it, but she works under a lead doctor who wants nothing more than to find a reason to fire her. Even if that reason is some made-up story derived from pictures that landed on the internet of her spending time with us in Sin City.

Kennedy, unlike any of the male staffers, has to go the extra mile to make sure the professional line is clearly drawn.

People swarm around us, pushing and edging their way to the dance floor, and all it does is cause Kennedy to lean into my space for reprieve from the crowd, seeking a bit of shelter from the bodies packing in around her. Eyes glancing back to the group of women she’s with, she takes a step closer to me.

It’s the strangest thing she’s ever done.

The fact that I’m, for once, not the last person in the room she wants to be around is surprising and concerning all at once.

“Kenny, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of hot in here, I guess.”

“And that’s why you’re trying to snuggle up to me in a night club right now? We can go back to my room if you’d like.” Leaning down, I whisper, “I’m a big fan of snuggling afterward.”

“Please shut up.” Her voice holds no edge, and she doesn’t even attempt to move away from me.

“Ken, who are you here with?”

She doesn’t look back to the table, but blindly gestures to the tall one with the sparkly dress on. “My stepsister. It’s her bachelorette party.”

“And you two don’t get along?”

“It’s complicated.” Her throat works its way through a swallow. “Could you stay here with me for a minute or two? I just need a break before I go back.”

This is what others don’t see. This is why I haven’t given up on my little crush. Kennedy is comfortable around me. Sure, she might act like she fucking hates me. I might purposefully drive her mad, but there are moments like this one where I’m the person she goes to. Ever since that run-in in the bathroom, there’s been a quiet understanding between us. Maybe it’s because I know a secret of hers and I’ve kept it to myself, I’m not sure. But deep down, Kennedy trusts me.

Glancing back at our table, Cody gestures for me to join the group, but when I look down at my favorite athletic trainer tucked close to me while people push and shove around us, that confident woman I’m used to seeing at work is nowhere to be found. She’s uncomfortable and I hate it.

I lean down close to her ear, shooting my shot for what feels like the thousandth time I’ve done so in the past eight months. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Her big brown eyes flit to mine. “Please.”

I’m fairly certain my heart skips a beat because the last thing I ever expected when this night began was for Kennedy Kay to agree to hang out with me.

But it’s after midnight and officially the worst day of the year, so I count this as a sign.

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