Page 51 of Play Along

Then I open my suitcase.

“Kenny,” Isaiah laughs from behind me, looking down into my luggage. “Are you a perfectionist and I had no idea?”

Perfectionist.

Type A.

Cold.

Just a few things I’ve been described as.

“You’re so cold, Kennedy,” Connor had said. “You’re the least affectionate woman I’ve ever been with. No man is ever going to want to be with someone who flinches every time they come near you.”

“Of course you’re a perfectionist.” Isaiah rests his chin on my shoulder. “Because you’re freaking perfect!”

“You’re annoying.” I shrug him off, taking my toiletries bag to the bathroom.

“I’m calling down for more blankets,” Isaiah calls out.

Emptying my toiletry case, I line each of my products on the counter in the order in which I’ll use them. It’s then I notice my missing toothbrush.

I peek my head out of the bathroom to find Isaiah on the phone. “Can you ask if they have an extra toothbrush? I forgot mine.”

“Okay, great,” he says into the receiver. “And do you have an extra toothbrush down there? My better half, she forgot hers.”

He shoots me a wink over the words better half.

“Oh. Okay, well do you have any for sale?” He nods. “You’re out. There’s a drugstore around the corner. Perfect. Will do. Thank you so much, Polly, and I hope you have a great night too. Don’t work too hard.”

Flirt.

He hangs up the phone. “They’re out of the free ones and their market doesn’t sell any. There’s a drugstore close by and I got directions.”

“From Polly?”

His lip twitches in a smirk. “Jealous.” Finding a nearby shirt, he slips it on, followed by his hat.

Backward, of course, because my body needed another reminder that it’s willing and able and very much not disgusted by my drunken choice of husband.

“Ready?” Isaiah slips the room key into his back pocket.

“Ready for what?”

“To go to the store.”

Confusion is written all over my face. “You’re going out with Travis and Cody.”

“I was only going with them because I didn’t have any other plans. But now I have plans, so let’s go.”

“A run to the drugstore doesn’t qualify as plans.”

“It does to me.” He holds the door open for me. “C’mon, Kenny, let’s go be domestic.”

Standing side by side, Isaiah and I stare at the wall of toothbrushes.

I don’t know why I’m not just grabbing one so we can go, but I’m kind of lost, utterly thrown off by the giant baseball player standing by my side who I’ve only known to be a ladies’ man. Who, instead of spending his night off with his friends, is shopping for dental hygiene products with me.

Finally, Isaiah reaches out to grab one.

---