Chapter 10
TEN
HENRY
DUMBEST JOCK IN THE WORLD.
Kennedy hadn’t been living with me for a full twenty-four hours, and I had already managed to get on her bad side.
Great job, idiot. Fucking A.
I could practically imagine Michael Scott handing me a fucking Dundie Award for Dumbest Jock in the World.
I was one stupid motherfucker.
After we arrived home from the store last night, she went straight to her room and didn’t even come out for dinner.
Should I have held my tongue? Probably—okay, yes—but the way she acted around him was a completely different Kennedy from what I was used to.
I was aware I had only seen her in a professional setting, but I had been observing her from afar for three years.
I knew how she acted. I knew the fire that resided inside her.
Seeing the way her light dimmed around him pissed me the fuck off.
If I had gotten my way, I would have punched his smug face.
It would have been a fucking honor to do so.
“Morning,” I said as I strode into the kitchen.
Kennedy leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. She was wearing one of her usual power suits, this one was light blue and complemented her brown skin beautifully, with some white shiny heels that added those few extra inches of height I liked so much.
I’d never been the kind of guy who liked short women. I was a sucker for long legs, and fuck, were Kennedy’s legs long. Dare I say, it was my second favorite trait about her.
She had her hair styled in an updo, her curls adding a natural bounce to her look. Her face was fully glammed, and though that meant her freckles were nowhere in sight, she still looked insanely irresistible.
Fucking hell. This woman was stunning. And very pissed at me, too.
Kennedy nodded in acknowledgment without a word.
“Hey,” I whispered and closed the distance between us. Her tropical, sweet scent hit me right in the face, and I took a hard gulp, because fuck, it was annoying how good she smelled all the time. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I realized I may have come off—”
“Like a presumptuous asshole?” she prompted.
I nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to. It just sort of…happened.”
She grabbed one of the mugs from the cabinet and served herself a hefty cup of coffee with a scoff. “Yeah, that’s sort of your problem, Anderson. You do things without thinking of the consequences.”
“It’s part of my charm.” I shrugged lazily as I grabbed a mug for myself.
“Right,” she retorted dryly. “The same charm that got you benched until further notice?” she asked condescendingly. “Let’s see how your charm can get you out of this situation.”
“It’ll be fine,” I muttered. Even though she had a point, the truth still stung like a paper cut.
“Of course, it’ll be fine.” She shook her head with a mocking laugh. “The fans adore you. Big bad boy Anderson, the man who gets away with everything.”
“What is that—”
A knock on the door interrupted us, followed by Hayes’s voice, “Can someone please open the door?”
I stared at the ceiling with a tired sigh as Kennedy went to open it.
“Hello to you, too, Hayes.” Her tone was lighter, almost playful, and it pissed me off knowing my best friend got that treatment while I was getting a completely different side of her.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked her mean. But I didn’t like her mad at me.
“Have you guys checked your phones?” Hayes asked as he perched himself on the kitchen island. Captain Sushi, who was resting on the couch, strode into the kitchen and jumped on the island—the damn cat could jump so fucking high, it was actually sort of terrifying—and sat next to Hayes.
Without a word, I grabbed the phone from my pocket. I had hundreds of social media notifications and texts, but one message in particular caught my attention.
Coach Sloane
We need to talk.
Coach Sloane
*sent link attachment*
I pressed on the link, and an article from Vogue Elite—one of the biggest web medias in the country—popped up. I could practically feel the way my face paled as I read the headline.
HAS THE NOTORIOUS BAD BOY FORWARD HENRY ANDERSON RESORTED TO DESPERATE MEASURES?
There was a picture right in the center of the article that showed me and Kennedy at the store.
Our bodies were pressed close as I tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.
I kept scrolling and found another photo—one of me standing in front of Joe when he was talking shit.
My body looked visibly tense in the picture.
Fuck. Is that how I looked when I was pissed? Yikes.
“What the fuck?” I growled and snapped my head up to look at Hayes.
“It’s all over social media and the only thing people have been talking about this morning,” Hayes commented.
Kennedy strode over to me in a few quick steps and snatched the phone from my hands.
She scrolled down quickly then started to read aloud.
“Notorious bad boy, Henry Anderson, was seen in public looking a bit too cozy with one of the senior PR specialists of the Strikers, Kennedy Jones. Considering what has recently transpired between the star center forward of the Strikers and the NY Jaguars’ newly appointed captain and star center forward Jack Holt, many fans are wondering if this is a desperate PR move from the Strikers organization.
A way to possibly soften the player’s image after getting ejected at their season opener game.
” Kennedy gripped my phone tightly as she shook her head in disbelief.
“The source who took this photo stated they had been acting quite cozy since they arrived at the store, and they were then seen leaving together in his car.”
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered. My eyes widened as I tried to process the words.
Kennedy’s phone pinged with a new text, and she swiftly grabbed it from her pocket. “It’s Anthony.” She sighed. “He wants to see us.”
“I’ll drive,” I said quickly and grabbed my car keys. The apartment keys I had taken from Hayes the day before were right next to them, so I grabbed and threw them at him. “Give Sush some food and then lock up.”
What normally was a ten-minute drive to the arena took me less than five minutes after breaking my fair share of traffic laws.
I quickly found a spot in the players’ parking lot, but before I could get out of the truck, I muttered, “Stay right there.” I unbuckled my seatbelt, got out, and walked around to open Kennedy’s door, but she beat me to it.
“Are you crazy?” she snapped. “The last thing I need is you opening the door for me and giving people the wrong impression. I don’t even know why I came here with you. I should have driven my own car!”
I groaned with exasperation. “Kennedy, it’s just a door. What’s the big deal?”
She shut the door as her finger pointed back and forth between us. “People already think we’re together. We’re going to get in so much shit because of this.”
“The organization doesn’t have any rules against relationships,” I countered in an attempt to ease the tension radiating off her.
She tilted her head back with a disbelieving laugh. “You don’t think I know that?”
“Kennedy, this is not a big deal.” I frowned. “Believe me, I’ve been through worse. We’ll explain what really happened, and they’ll understand.”
“How do you think it will look for me when we go in there and tell them we aren’t dating?
” She started pacing back and forth. “I’m doing everything I can to show Brad and the organization I’m worthy of the director position, and here I am, causing them a scandal instead, which is quite literally the opposite of my job description.
I’m supposed to maintain a positive image for the organization, but instead, I’m part of the problem.
You’ll be fine, because you’re Henry fucking Anderson and you’re untouchable.
But me?” She jabbed a finger into her chest with a clipped shake of her head.
“This isn’t good. Not for me.” Her voice was shaky, and tears threatened to escape her brown eyes that carried so much fear and uncertainty.
The raw vulnerability was something I hadn’t witnessed firsthand before, and without thinking, I gripped her arms and brought her in for a hug.
When I wrapped my arms around her, she tensed beneath my touch, but I didn’t let go.
I rested my chin on top of her head and hugged her a bit tighter.
We remained silent, and after a few minutes, she relaxed in my hold and rested her head against my chest. It took everything in me not to inhale a sharp breath, not wanting to scare her off.
I wasn’t expecting her to return my hug.
I’d only done it because something told me she needed this for more than one reason.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that would make the situation better.
The truth was, I didn’t even think about the ramifications this article could cause.
But she was right. If they found out we weren’t dating, how were we going to explain those pictures?
We were standing pretty close. The only reason we were in this situation was because when I saw how distraught she was after he left, something called to me, just like it had now, and I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted to touch her. Be near her in case she needed me.
I exposed her to this stupid risk because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.
Me? I could take the hit from the media. It was what I’d been doing for most of my career. I wouldn’t necessarily say my problems went away easily, but my name did carry some weight.
And fuck. This could affect her career. The way the media would drag her if they found out the truth? It wasn’t right. Bringing a scandal to the organization, especially after what I did, is the last thing they needed. How could they trust her to do her job if they found out?
“What if it’s not an issue?” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could stop and think what the hell I was doing.