Page 12 of Play Along

Her stepsister and all the other women in white are now surrounded by a train of bottle girls carrying endless amounts of champagne lit with sparklers, dancing and cheering as they celebrate the soon-to-be bride.

“Let’s go,” I say, hand on her lower back, ushering her to the door.

She slightly flinches when we first make contact, but settles into my palm, letting me guide her out.

Once we’re outside, I pull up the group text with my two best friends, finding messages already waiting for me.

Cody: Holy shit.

Travis: I cannot believe our Kennedy is here.

Me: MY Kennedy is here. And we’re leaving.

Travis: How long will you be?

Me: I’m not coming back.

Cody: Shut the fuck up.

Me: See you boys at the airport tomorrow.

Cody: I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality. This can’t be real.

Travis: Isaiah motherfucking Rhodes. What happened to the guys’ night you were so adamant about?

Me: Fate happened.

Chapter 2

Kennedy

If you would have told me a year ago that Isaiah Rhodes, of all people, would be walking down the Vegas strip by my side, I would’ve assumed you were out of your mind.

And if you would’ve told me the reason I’m in Vegas to begin with is that I’m attending my stepsister’s bachelorette party, I would’ve laughed in your face.

And if you would’ve told me that the man she’s marrying is my ex-fiancé, I would’ve looked into having you committed.

Because for my entire adult life, Connor Danforth and I knew we were marrying each other.

And my stepsister and I have never been close enough to invite the other to our personal events.

And I can’t stand Isaiah Rhodes most of the time.

But here I am, all three of those things being my current reality.

Isaiah closes the back door to the club as we step outside, the pounding music dulling to a low vibration and easing the panic I was experiencing in there.

What the hell was I doing agreeing to leave with him? I was desperate to get out of there, that’s what. And though I’ll never admit it aloud, there’s an understanding between Isaiah and me that no one else knows about.

But the man is carefree, cocky, even downright childish at times and it drives me insane. I’m far too type A for him and when the brisk Nevada air hits me in the face, it clears my brain fog and reminds me of just that.

“I’m staying two hotels over. I’m going to call it a night.” I raise my hand to hail the closest cab, but just as quickly, Isaiah pulls it down.

“One drink, Ken.”

“No.”

He tosses his head from side to side. “Let’s try that answer again. I liked it a whole lot better when you gave me those doe eyes inside and whispered ‘please.’”

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