Page 82 of Play Along

I huff a laugh until she shuts me up with another quick kiss.

I didn’t teach her shit tonight. That was all her. I, on the other hand, have quickly learned that I’m going to be entirely fucked if she’s serious about this thing between us having an expiration date.

Chapter 16

Kennedy

It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

I didn’t know it could be like that. I wasn’t aware my brain could quiet itself, or that my body knew exactly what to do when the moment presented itself.

Kissing Isaiah wasn’t supposed to be like that.

He was supposed to teach me how to be comfortable dating other people, not ruin my every waking thought because all I can do is replay that moment. How good his hands felt in my hair. How eager I was to have my leg slung over his lap.

This was supposed to be an innocent experiment. Get the awkwardness out of the way with someone I don’t see a future with. We’re technically married so what’s the harm in adding a little physical contact into the equation? A little kissing. A little hand holding.

Well, I’ll tell you what the problem is. The problem is I want more, and that can’t happen. It shouldn’t. After all these years of him blatantly hitting on me, I can’t crumble because of one freaking kiss.

It’s been days. Days since we’ve been back in Chicago, and I can’t get him out of my head. That night in St. Louis, for the first time, I didn’t invite Isaiah to sleep in the bed. He’s refused every night prior, most likely realizing my offer is made purely out of guilt. But after that kiss, I didn’t even give him the option.

I needed space to organize my thoughts.

Rationally thinking, he’s just the first. Not my first kiss, by any means. Just the first time a kiss felt intimate. That’s all it is. He’s the first guy I’ve allowed myself to be open with, and I’m sure it’ll feel just as good when I open myself up to other people.

So, yeah, things are fine. I’m fine, and this experiment is working exactly how I need it to. Sure, I’ve completely avoided him since we’ve been home, but yeah, things are going just fine.

The training room has been busy all morning thanks to our afternoon game today. My thumbs throb in pain from rubbing sore muscles and ripping athletic tape to secure uneasy joints. I haven’t had a spare moment for food or even a sip of water, but I couldn’t care less.

I love this.

I love game days and I love my job.

I love working on athletes and the one benefit of being an athletic trainer over a team doctor is that I get to work on them every single day.

Will, our second doctor, does a good amount of therapy too, but I couldn’t tell you the last time Dr. Fredrick was hands-on in the training room. As Head of the Health and Wellness Department, he’s too busy working on schedules, overseeing the nutritionists and strength training coaches, and being the department’s face.

The only time he has any real involvement is when one of the players has a serious injury or surgery and we have to run our rehabilitation plans through him.

That’s it. That’s the only thing he does that we can’t.

It’s something I’ll have to look into if I get the position with San Francisco. I don’t want to be stuck at a desk doing paperwork. I want to do exactly what I’m doing now, but with the title of Lead Doctor.

And judging by that call I got a few days ago, I might be having that conversation sooner rather than later.

“You’re all set, Cody.” I toss his specific tape aside as our first baseman flexes his hand, making sure his mobility is still there, regardless of his taped fingers.

“Thanks, Ken. Where are you working today?”

“Clubhouse.”

“Again?” Cody’s brows furrow in confusion.

I’ve been stuck covering the clubhouse for the past five games. The medical staffer who is left to cover the clubhouse is essentially a floater. We’re there to help out if extra hands are needed in either the visitor or home training rooms. We watch the game on one of the four giant televisions hung in the center of the room, but most of the time, we simply sit and wait for the game to be over.

But it’s not hydration, so I’m not complaining. Dr. Fredrick hasn’t made that mistake again after Reese put him in his place for assigning me as the water girl on Opening Day.

“I don’t mind,” I assure him.

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