2
Nash
Kennedy stood at the bar with her back to Josh, who was chatting with Bryce, our enforcer, and was clearly too distracted to notice that something was off. She was staring down at her phone, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip the way they always did when she was anxious.
She’d always been independent—fiercely so—but I knew that look. She was upset, or at least frustrated, and trying hard not to show it.
I’d seen it a hundred times before. When we were kids, it showed up whenever she couldn’t figure something out on her own, like missing a shot in street hockey with our older brothers, not being able to climb the tree as fast, or trying to carry something heavier than she could handle.
As we got older, it was school that got to her.
She worked her ass off and pulled straight As, but if she got even one red mark on an assignment, it drove her crazy.
She’d bite her lip just like that and dig in until she figured it out. Asking for help was never her thing.
That part of her clearly hadn’t changed. I stepped closer and gently nudged her elbow. “What’s up?”
She turned, blinking like she was surprised to see me. Those big blue eyes of hers had always undone me a little more than they should. “Sammy,” she said, wiggling the phone in her hand. “She met some guy and left.”
I raised an eyebrow. I didn’t know Sammy that well, having only met her a few times during college, but she’d been the wild one out of the two of them, always up for anything, while Kennedy was the cautious one.
The first time was at a hockey tournament at Ohio State.
Kennedy had shown up with Sammy in tow, proudly introducing me to her new roommate.
We all went out to some hole-in-the-wall bar near campus where Sammy ended up dancing on the bar to Bon Jovi, hair flying, ass shaking.
The guys went nuts, cheering her on, while Kennedy was mortified, trying to drag her down while pretending she didn’t know her.
A chuckle escaped my lips at the memory.
Sammy going home with some random guy didn’t faze me—I’d done the same thing more times than I could count.
Hell, most of the guys on the team had. It came with the territory.
But Kennedy’s tone caught me off guard. For a second, I thought she disapproved, and that surprised me. She’d never been judgmental.
I was ready with a smart-ass comment, something like, “Classic Sam,” but it died in my throat when the reality hit me—Kennedy didn’t disapprove of Sammy hooking up, she was worried about being alone in a bar, in a new city she didn’t know.
“I got you, Kenny,” I promised, putting my hand protectively on her small shoulder. “What do you need?”
Her body stiffened under my touch. “I was just going to call an Uber.”
“No way. I’m not letting you ride with some random guy in the middle of the night. I’ll take you.”
Kennedy swept a few strands of her long dark hair behind her ear, revealing a tiny diamond stud that caught the dim light and sparkled. She looked tired suddenly, as if the night had finally started to wear on her, and something shifted in my chest.
She’d always been beautiful, even when we were kids. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she carried herself. The way she saw the world. The way she saw me—not as some headline-making player but as someone who mattered. Just me. She’d always meant more to me than I’d ever let myself admit.
And I’d never pursued her—for that exact reason. Because she was someone I couldn’t afford to lose.
But now, with her here in my city, standing this close, tired and trusting and still so damn beautiful . . .
“You don’t have to do that, Nash,” Kennedy said, lifting her chin in that defiant way she’d always had. “I can handle it.”
I didn’t doubt for a second that she could.
If there was one thing Kennedy had always been, it was capable of handling whatever life threw at her.
She’d always been smart, resourceful, and a problem solver, and having her here made me realize just how much I’d missed her.
But it was late, and she was a tiny little thing—barely reaching my chest. There was no way in hell I was letting her leave this bar alone.
“You sure can, but let me make sure you get home safely. That’s what friends are for, right?” I said, trying to lighten the mood, and maybe to remind myself that was what she was.
But that word—friends—hung there heavier than I expected.
“Ken?” I nudged when she didn’t answer.
She hesitated, long enough for me to know she didn’t love the idea. And yeah, that stung a little. But she knew me. She knew how stubborn I could be when it came to protecting her.
That hadn’t changed either.
“Thanks, Nash,” she said finally. “I appreciate it.”
I bit back a laugh. The look on her face didn’t exactly match her words, but I appreciated that she humored me. Maybe part of her still knew she could relax with me, that I’d keep her safe, same as always. Even if she didn’t always approve. But all I said was, “Of course.”
I finished the rest of my beer in a few long gulps, set the bottle down, and nodded toward the far end of the bar. “I need to grab my jacket. Come on.”
I took her hand without thinking—like it was second nature—and led her past Josh, who looked more than a little surprised.
“Leaving so soon?” someone called out behind me, amused.
“Yeah,” I said without missing a beat, used to the ribbing from my teammates. “I’m taking my friend home.”
A few of the guys laughed.
“Is that what you call it now?” one of them joked.
I didn’t even need to look to know who it was. Mitchell Evans. My best friend, teammate, and former college roommate. Kennedy had met Mitch when we were in college.
He’d been drafted straight into the Empires, while I’d taken a detour through St. Louis for a couple of seasons before we were back on the same roster.
“Dude,” I snapped, shooting Mitch a glare.
He just grinned like the cocky bastard he was. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. And hey—remember to wrap it.”
I just rolled my eyes, used to his shit, but the way Kennedy’s hand tensed up made me stop. Mitch hadn’t recognized her. To him, she was just another girl I might take home. That didn’t sit right with me. She’d never be just some girl.
He gave her a quick once-over, his light-blue eyes skating past her like she was a stranger. I chuckled softly, waiting for the moment it would hit him.
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Kennedy, however, had recognized him. “Oh, Mitch,” she said, her tone teasing, “I’m hurt.”
His eyes darted back to me, then to her . . . then down to our joined hands.
“What’s up?” His expression shifted as the recognition finally hit. “Holy shit! Is that you, Kennedy?”
She smiled, and before I could say anything, Mitch was on his feet, pushing me aside and scooping her into a giant bear hug.
“Damn, girl, how the hell have you been?” he said, squeezing her like she was his long-lost sister. As much as I appreciated my best friend, I didn’t like his arms wrapped around her.
Kennedy giggled, caught off guard. “Good! Really good.”
He finally let her go, running a hand through his messy blond hair as his gaze swept over her—too appreciative for my liking. “You’re looking great,” he said, flashing a grin. “What are you doing hanging out with this loser?”
Kennedy just laughed.
Mitch took a long sip of his beer, studying me knowingly over the rim of the bottle. He knew better than most what she’d always meant to me—even if I’d never said the words out loud.
“How long are you in New York for?”
“Oh, I live here now,” she said.
Mitch choked mid-sip, coughing as his gaze bounced from her to me and back again. “No shit? That’s . . . wow. That’s news. But great. That’s great.”
“I’m taking her home,” I interjected, earning a raised eyebrow from Mitch.
“My friend bailed,” Kennedy explained quickly, her cheeks blushing. “I don’t really know my way around yet, so Nash offered. And we all know how protective he is,” she added with an eye roll.
Mitch nodded slowly, clearly amused. He knew me too well not to read into that, but he didn’t press.
He understood.
It was late. The streets outside weren’t exactly friendly after midnight, and Kennedy was slightly drunk and alone in a city she didn’t know. He knew this was me making sure she got home safe.
That was all it was.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
“Well, it was great seeing you, Mitch,” Kennedy said with a smile. “I hope I’ll see you around.”
“You will, Kennedy,” Mitch replied, pulling her into another quick hug and grinning like the smug bastard he was when he caught me glaring at him. “Take care of yourself.”
I grabbed my suit jacket and led her out of the crowd, weaving past my friends and teammates.
“Hold on just a second,” Kennedy said as we got to Josh. She slipped her hand out of mine and stepped up to him, making me frown and miss the feel of her hand. He said something I couldn’t hear, but I sure as hell noticed the way his eyes lingered on her. The slow grin. The too-long glance.
“Hey, Nash.”
Amy—one of the girls from the Empires’ merchandise department—appeared out of nowhere, sliding a perfectly manicured hand around my arm like it belonged there. “Where’d you go?” she asked, batting her lashes up at me. She’d been clinging to my side earlier in the evening.
“Uh, ran into a friend,” I said, nodding toward Kennedy, who was smiling at Josh a few feet away.
Amy’s light-brown eyes sparkled with something that wasn’t curiosity. She was a good-looking woman, no doubt about that. Average height, killer curves. The kind of body that made people stare. Hell, Playboy would probably throw money at her.
We’d hooked up a few times in the past, mostly after home games when the adrenaline was still high and I didn’t feel like going home alone. But tonight, I definitely wasn’t feeling it.
“You’re not going to introduce me?” she asked.
I hadn’t planned on it.