Page 76 of Play Your Part

“Is it?” I spun toward her again. “You showing up tonight to check on me is all for show? Because no one is here, Kennedy.”

“This was a mistake.”

She turned to leave, but I couldn’t let her walk away from me. Maybe I couldn’t have her the way I wanted, but I wasn’t ready to let her walk out of my life.

“Why did you come here, Kennedy?” I asked again, all the fight leaving my voice.

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I thought you could use a friend. You won this game… and you’re here alone.” Her gaze circled the empty arena before landing back on me. “I thought being friends, being there for each other could be the one benefit of this fake relationship thing.”

“Not the only benefit.” It didn’t take much to conjure the image of Kennedy straddling me in the front seat of her truck.

Kennedy’s blush crept up her neck and added more pink to her chilled cheeks. “That was a lapse in judgment we shouldn’t repeat.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’ll confuse things. Make this feel like something it’s not.”

“But you coming here doesn’t?”

“I thought we were becoming actual friends, but I guess I got that wrong.”

“That’s what you want?” I asked. “Friends?”

Part of me wanted her to see reason, to see there was no way we could be friends. Forcing us to ignore the crackling chemistry between us was self-imposed torture, but the more rational part of me knew that being friends would stop her from breaking me into pieces when she went back to Ward.

And by some miracle, if I was wrong and she didn’t go back to him, it wasn’t like something between Kennedy and me could ever work out. Why even go there when it would blow apart? It might start perfect, but it wouldn’t be long until she complained I was never around and didn’t pay her enough attention. We would slip into stilted conversation and frustration over remembering what we used to have but no longer did.

She smiled, her shoulders dropping a centimeter. “Don’t you?”

“Someone has to raise Zach,” I said, avoiding her question. “God knows how long that’s going to take. Guess what I caught him doing the other day?”

Kennedy moved toward the bench as I skated closer to her. Tension deflated between us. “Tell me.”

“He microwaved metal, then left the room like it wasn’t going to cause a fire. I walked into the kitchen when it started sparking.”

She laughed, tilting her head back. Winning a laugh from her felt as good as the overtime puck in the net tonight. I didn’t know if I could be only friends with her, but the thought of a clean break, drifting back into strangers, killed me. Somehow, in two months, Kennedy had become a person whose presence in my life I relied on. I pushed it out of my mind; that decision was weeks away.

“Seriously?” Kennedy asked. “What did he say?”

“He said he’s done it his whole life, and it’s never caused a fire before.”

She let out a high-pitched laugh. “Of course he did.”

“I invited him to Thanksgiving. I hope that’s okay.”

Kennedy’s small smile grew into a wide grin. “Our holiday got a whole lot more interesting.” She stood again, teetering her weight on one foot before shifting it to the other. “Are you done? Because I know a spot where you can get pizza and beer and sit in a hot tub.”

I skated to the bench and pulled the door back to stand in front of her. Her eyes studied me, roaming over the cuts and bruises on my face. Ward looked worse than I did. Kennedy had been right, I won that fight handily. I wanted to break his nose again, for every way he made my life more difficult, and for how he took this wonderful woman who stood in front of me for granted.

She moved so quickly, taking two steps forward and wrapping her arms around my middle, I didn’t have time to react. Not until the choice became wrapping my arms around her or standing stock-still. I dropped my stick and gloves, and pulled her toward me, my hands resting on her midback. She laid her head against my chest, as she had when we danced at the fundraiser. There was no way to disguise that my heart wanted to beat straight out of my chest. I hoped she would chalk it up to postgame adrenaline.

“It was the first game I’ve watched in over a year,” Kennedy said, so softly I wasn’t sure the words were for me. The anger at not having her here tonight bled away. She’d pushed through that block to watch me. “I forgot how good you are.”

My hand tugged lightly on a strand of her hair. “I like the direction this conversation is taking.”

She laughed again, all in one puff of air. “You never get tired of people telling you how good you are, huh?”

“Some people,” I said and rested my chin on top of her head.

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