9 #2
Nash’s parents brought me to Luigi’s, the same restaurant where he’d taken me.
We were seated quickly at the same table.
Howard ordered a bottle of red wine and a couple of appetizers to share.
I had a great time catching up with them while we waited for Nash.
I filled them in on my new job and the move, while they shared all about their new house in Florida.
Liz was in the middle of describing how beautiful it was and how close they were to the beach when Nash walked around the corner.
He was dressed in dark-gray slacks and a light-green button-up shirt that did wonderful things to his eyes, his suit jacket draped casually over his arm.
A smug smile spread across his face as he glanced between his parents and me.
Damn, he looked incredible.
“Hey, guys,” he greeted us with his usual laid-back confidence.
“Awesome game today, son,” Howard said, giving Nash a proud slap on the back. “I haven’t seen you play like that in a while. You killed it out there tonight.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Nash’s grin was wide and boyish, reminding me of the kid he used to be.
Watching the two of them was like slipping back into a world I’d missed more than I’d realized.
But things had changed. Nash was now easily a couple of inches taller than his father, but his broad, muscular frame made him seem much bigger.
He turned to his mom, giving her a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. She beamed up at him, clearly proud.
My heart raced as I realized it was my turn. I wasn’t sure what to expect—whether he’d hug me or if I’d made things awkward by standing up. Maybe I should’ve remained seated, then this wouldn’t have been an issue. Deciding to let him take the lead, I just stood there.
“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes locking on to mine with that same intensity that always seemed to undo me.
“Hi,” I replied, my voice almost a whisper.
His gaze flickered down, quickly scanning over me, before he wrapped his arms around me in a strong, bone-crushing hug.
He held me tightly against him for a second longer than I expected, my heart racing even faster.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered into my ear before letting go, leaving his familiar scent lingering in the air around me.
When I sat back down, between Nash and his father, my heart was still racing. I needed a second to calm myself.
“You started without me, I see,” Nash teased, reaching for one of the few pieces of bruschetta left on the plate in the middle of the table.
“Yeah,” Howard said with a grin. “What do you want to drink?”
“I’ll just have water for now.”
His father nodded.
“So, what did the reporters ask tonight?” Howard asked.
“Same stuff, different day.”
“So, nothing new?”
“No, not really.”
Nash took a long sip of water, and when his eyes drifted over to me, the look in them made me brace myself so I wouldn’t shudder. There was something there—something that didn’t feel like just friendship anymore. I tried to smile, but it felt forced.
What the hell was happening to me?
I’d had a crush on Nash for as long as I could remember, but I’d never acted like a lovesick fool before. I took a sip of my wine, hoping the nerves would settle—and my hormones along with them.
“You had an incredible game, Nash,” I said, both because it was true and because I needed to break whatever spell I was under. “All the sports networks should only have good things to say after that performance.”
“Thanks, Kennedy. I hope so,” he responded with a teasing, flirty grin I’d seen work wonders on countless women. “It was thanks to you.”
“What? Me?” I snorted. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, but you did,” he said, leaning back in his chair, grin widening. “You’re my good-luck charm. I play better when you’re around.”
Howard laughed beside me, and Liz leaned back in her chair, smiling as she watched us.
“You might be onto something there, son,” Howard said. “You didn’t play half as well in North Carolina.”
“I know. That’s what I’m saying, she brings good luck.” Then he flashed me the full panty-dropping Nash Reed smile.
I scrambled for something to say, and the only thing that came to mind was when we were in middle school and he’d called me his good-luck charm. “You mean like when we were in sixth grade and you said you won the sprint in gym because I wore your T-shirt?”
He froze with his glass halfway to his mouth, his eyes widening as recognition set in. Then he started to laugh, that deep, genuine laugh that always made my chest ache. “Yes! Shit, I forgot all about that.”
Dinner with Nash and his parents was lovely.
It didn’t feel strange at all, despite the years that had passed.
They’d always been so welcoming, and it was easy to slip into the familiar.
I knew Howard and Liz loved me, and I felt the same about them.
About Nash too, of course. But I was more confused than ever about the vibe between us.
The looks he’d been giving me lately, the teasing, the flirty texts—that was all new.
Nash’s phone buzzed while his parents enjoyed dessert and I finished my wine.
“What’s going on?” Liz asked when Nash glanced at it for the third time without answering.
“It’s just the guys, mostly Mitchell.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling. “How’s Mitch?”
“He’s good. Same pain in the ass.”
Her smile turned to a frown. “That’s not true. Why aren’t you answering him?”
Nash chuckled, glancing between her and me. “He’s trying to convince me to skip out on dinner with you guys and take Kennedy to the bar. The team’s celebrating the win.”
Howard chuckled while Liz waved her spoon in the air, pointing it from Nash to me.
“Oh, that sounds fun! You two should go and celebrate. You definitely earned it tonight, honey. No need to wait on us.”
Nash looked surprised. “Are you sure, Mom?” he asked.
“Of course. Go.” She shooed him with a playful flick of her wrist.
Nash hesitated until his dad set his fork down. “Nash, you deserve to celebrate. We’re glad we got to have dinner with you and Kennedy. Really. But it’s time you two went and joined the young crowd.”
I giggled, and Liz winked at me. “We’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” she said.
We stood and hugged his parents goodnight, and I promised Liz we’d all have dinner again when they came back for the next round of home games.
When Nash led me outside, it was with my hand in his. And for the first time, being alone with Nash Reed made me nervous as hell.
The easy friendship we’d always had wasn’t so easy anymore.
My feelings were not just a leftover crush.
Whatever was happening was very real, and that scared the hell out of me.
Nash had changed, but I couldn’t tell if he wanted what I did or if this was just a fun, flirty thing for him.
If it was, I’d end up more heartbroken than ever.
Because Nash Reed wasn’t capable of just breaking my heart—he could completely destroy it.