Page 149 of Play Along

I exhale for the first time since this goddamn storm started.

A tsunami-sized wave of relief settles over me, my body physically slumping from the tension unwinding itself. But I can’t move, stunned into place that she’s here. She’s okay, and it isn’t until she jogs down the hall to me that I realize that all those anxious thoughts begin to settle and rationalize.

But still, there’s nothing soft or sweet about the way I ask, “What the hell are you doing here?”

She’s breathing heavy when she stops on the other side of my door, water soaking the floor around her.

“Did you fucking drive here?” I continue.

She shakes her head no, and that settles me for only a moment before she admits, “I ran here.”

“That’s eight fucking blocks, Kennedy.”

“Yeah. I’m aware.”

I can feel myself amping up again. Can feel the nerves sparking to life, fragile and raw. Does she not understand how dangerous it is to be out in weather like this? She’s dripping from head to toe, probably going to get sick because of it, and she’s lucky something worse didn’t happen to her on the way over here.

My fear speaks for me through my raised voice. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Her shoulders are straight, no hesitation in her tone when she says, “Because I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Her words bring me down again, the constant spike of fear accompanied by the drastic come down is spiraling my emotions out of control. My eyes instantly burn. My throat constricts.

“Don’t fucking do that for me, Kenny.” My voice breaks on her name.

“I wanted to.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why. I don’t know when it changed. But you always tell me to do what feels good, and I’ve never felt better than when I’m with you.”

I inhale a sharp breath, trying to calm myself down, trying not to let her see how much it means to me that even knowing I’m going to be at my worst, she’s here. Even when my mind plays tricks on me, she validates my fears.

Even when others would call me irrational, laugh off a silly summer storm, she ran instead of getting in her car to check on me.

She reaches out, hand wrapping around mine to uncoil my fingers. They soften in hers, dropping my car keys into her palm.

“Why do you have these?”

“Because I couldn’t get a hold of you, and I needed to make sure you were okay.”

Her head tilts, her face softening. She slips my keys into her jacket pocket the same time she pulls out her phone. Water drips from it, so she wipes the screen, allowing it to display my endless missed calls.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it on my way over because of the rain.”

“You scared me.”

She shakes her head, brows furrowed as if she truly can’t grasp the concept of someone being concerned for her well-being. That someone would care about her enough, miss her enough that they’d get in the car and check on her.

A rumble of thunder shakes my entire apartment, the subsequent flash of lightning exploding in streaks across Kennedy’s beautiful face.

I try not to pay attention to anything but her, yet I can’t help the slight flinch in my expression.

Kennedy reaches up, her small hand cupping my jaw. I cover it with my own, reveling in her touch, proud of how easy it is for her now.

“Let me distract you,” she whispers.

Chapter 27

Isaiah

Stepping into the hallway, I take Kennedy’s face in both hands and press my mouth to hers, desperate to touch her.

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