Page 77 of Mad Rivals
Sheismy girl. I’m not seeing anyone else, and neither is she. We’re in this, and tonight, I plan to tell her that I want to make it work even when we’re apart.
I want her to see if she can work out of her LA office more often so we’re in closer proximity. I want to reclaim the magic we had for that one perfect weekend in San Diego.
I want to give this a real try with her away from the spotlight of my family here in Chicago.
I’m going to ask her to move in with me…sort of. To stay with me when she comes to town. To see if there’s a future here.
I’m nervous. We’ve seen each other as much as we can over the last few weeks, but we’ve really only known each other a couple of months at this point. Still, I don’t see another option than this since we’re running short on time.
I realize how lucky I am to play professional sports, but that doesn’t mean life’s perfect. Sometimes I wish I had the capability to work a normal job where I’m not committed day and night for half a year.
Sometimes I wonder where I’d be now if I’d just started working for Bradley Group fresh out of college. Would I be married? Would I have kids? Are these even things Iwantfor my future?
I’m not sure. I guess I’ve never been sure since my post-playing career was already mapped out for me. I figured someone would make those choices for me, too.
Only now I’m thirty-five and still don’t have any of the answers. It’s all a little fucked.
Not one of the seven of us Bradley siblings went to work for the company. We’ve all worked in different capacities over the years, but none of us were chomping at the bit to make this a career. It was a nice way to earn some extra cash in the summers or even in the offseason before big contracts came along. But my brothers all committed to sports, and my two sisters never really wanted anything to do with the company.
I’ve only been at the hotel a few minutes when I hear a knock at the door. I open it and find Kennedy standing in front of me. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and I immediately haul her into my arms. I hate that she feels any sort of anxiety, no matter the case. But I feel like it has something to do with me.
I feel like it has something to do with the fact that I won’t be here in Chicago by this time tomorrow.
Things are about to change no matter how we look at it, and whatever this is will either thrive or not survive.
The door clicks shut behind her once she’s in my arms, and I press my lips to the top of her head while I hold her.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Not really,” she mumbles into my chest.
“Talk to me.”
“Total honesty, I’m scared I’m here tonight so you can end this when it feels like it’s just getting good,” she says.
I squeeze her more tightly against me for a beat before I pull back and meet her eyes with mine. “Let me assure you that’s not my intention tonight.”
“Then what is?”
I guess it’s time to ask, but I’m not ready. I draw in a deep breath and do it anyway. “I love you, Kennedy. I want a futurewith you, and I know it’s early for us, but I want you to stay with me when you’re in San Diego. I want you to spend more time there. I want to be able to see you, to continue getting to know you, to fall harder for you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, and my mouth crashes to hers before she can say more words.
I want to show her with my body how deeply I’ve fallen for her, but I also don’t want tonight to just be about sex. I don’t want it to feel like a goodbye since she came here with the anxiety that a goodbye was exactly what this was going to be.
But then her hand comes down to cup my cock over my jeans, and whatever coherent thoughts I just had about tonight not being about sex fly right out of my head.
My hand wanders up toward her chest, where I massage one of her tits over her shirt. She moans, and my cock stiffens at the hot sound.
I shove my hips toward her palm as I continue to kiss her, and she groans as she feels me getting harder and harder for her.
I pull back and study her for a second before I say, “Tell me what you want.”
“You, Madden. I want you.”
“Tell me what you want me to do,” I urge.
She seems shy for a second, but then her words are fucking fire. “I want you to fuck me so hard that I’m sore for a week and think of you every time I sit.”
