13
Nash
“Reed!” Mitchell called out as we headed toward the dressing room after practice.
The air inside the practice arena was thick with the lingering chill of the ice mixing with the heat of dozens of exhausted bodies.
The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, reflecting off the slick rubber flooring that lined the hallway leading to the locker rooms. My jersey clung to my skin, damp with sweat, and my breath came a little heavy from the last scrimmage drill.
It hadn’t been a grueling session, but I was drenched in sweat regardless.
I took off my helmet, running a hand through my damp hair to push it back from my face as the team clattered down the corridor in their skates.
Mitchell was a bit behind me, so I stepped aside, letting the rest of the team pass by.
I wasn’t sure why he needed to pull me aside in the hallway, but it had to be something personal. He wasn’t the type to avoid saying what was on his mind in front of the whole team, so his quiet approach had me curious—and maybe a little concerned.
The wide hallway buzzed with noise, the chatter from the guys echoing. I could hear Mitchell joking with our goaltender as I leaned against the wall, wiping the sweat off my face as I waited for him to catch up.
“What’s up?” I asked Mitch when he stopped next to me. He peeled off his gloves and pushed his blond hair, which was just as sweaty as mine, out of his eyes.
“Care to tell me where the hell you ran off to last night?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “You didn’t even tell me you were leaving. And why the hell didn’t you respond to my texts?”
I hadn’t even glanced at my phone after I got to Kennedy’s apartment. Seeing her in that T-shirt had made me forget about everything else. And as the night progressed . . . yeah, checking my phone had been the last thing on my mind.
“Aw, were you worried about me?” I teased, grinning. Mitchell was my best friend, but I still wasn’t sure I wanted him to know exactly what had gone down with Kennedy. Hell, it wasn’t like I even knew what it was yet.
“Asshole,” he grunted, punching my shoulder. “Seriously, Nash, what happened?”
“Why do you think something happened?” I dodged the question, playing it cool.
“Because I know you,” he shot back, giving me a look. “You never take off without saying something, and you sure as hell don’t ignore my texts. And you’ve been in way too good a mood today for it to be nothing.”
I felt a grin spread across my face. Mitchell really did know me too well. The practice had gone okay, but not good enough to put me in this mood. “Maybe I’m just happy to see your ugly face,” I said.
“Yeah, right.” He snorted. “Good one. And for the record, you should be, but that’s not it. Seriously, man, what happened?”
I shrugged my shoulders, unsure how much I wanted to tell him. “Maybe I just got laid.”
Mitch studied me carefully, his eyes narrowing. For a second, I thought he’d let it slide, but then he shook his head slowly. “Maybe you did, but that’s not it. There’s something more.”
I leaned back against the wall, letting the last few players walk past us. I didn’t want anyone to know about Kennedy, at least not until I figured out what we were to each other, but if anyone deserved to know why I’d ditched last night, it was Mitch.
“It didn’t have anything to do with Kennedy leaving right before you, did it?” he teased, his eyes locking on mine.
Fuck. Did he already know?
“Hey.” Mitchell nudged my elbow. “It’s cool, Nash. I could tell back in college you liked her as more than ‘just a friend.’” He even tossed in air quotes, like I could have missed the point.
“You knew?” I asked.
He’d only met her a few times, once when he came home with me for spring break freshman year, and then when we played against her college.
One of those had been a particularly shitty loss that had left me moody for hours.
Guess the way Kennedy handled my grumpy ass had stuck with him more than I’d realized.
He nodded, a small smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Yeah, it was pretty obvious—at least to me. You had this look on your face I’d never seen before.
Like you were fired up but completely calm at the same time. She lit you up and kept you grounded.”
My mouth dropped open. How the hell could he read me that well? It wasn’t that I didn’t know how much Kennedy had meant to me back then. I did. I’d just never said it out loud. It had been easier to pretend.
“From the way you used to talk about her . . . I think you’ve compared every girl you’ve ever been with to her,” he continued. “And none of them have come close to what you thought it’d be like with her.”
I knew Mitch was intuitive, but this took the prize. “Shit, man.” I sighed, dragging my hand through my hair and down my face.
“So . . . you were with her, right? Am I right?” he pressed.
I just nodded, too stunned to speak.
Mitchell’s grin spread ear to ear as he clapped me on the back.
“Good for you, man.” He wasn’t wrong. It was good for me.
Sex with Kennedy had been amazing. Better than I could’ve imagined, and I’d imagined plenty.
I’d been with a lot of women, more than I was proud of, but this?
This was different. It wasn’t just the physical that blew me away—it was the connection we had that made it so much more.
Usually, I slept with women just for the release, but with Kennedy, it was something deeper.
Like my body had finally caught up to something my heart had known for years.
Kennedy had always been amazing, one of the most genuine people I knew, but I’d never expected the chemistry between us to be like this.
It was intense in a way nothing else had ever been.
“So, was it everything you thought it would be?” Mitchell teased, the smirk never leaving his face.
“Fuck you,” I shot back, but I couldn’t stop my grin.
Mitchell just laughed, rolling his eyes at me. “Seriously, man,” he said, schooling his face, “you look happy. If she’s the one doing it for you, you need to make sure she sticks around.”
“I know.” I sighed, rubbing my face again. I wanted that—wanted her around for a very long time. “I’m trying, man.”
Mitch nodded, his expression turning more thoughtful. “For what it’s worth, Nash, she’s a really great girl. And I think she feels the same way.”
My head snapped up. “Yeah? You do?”
“Yes, Nash,” he said seriously, meeting my gaze. “I do. She looks at you the same way you look at her.”
“We did grow up as best friends, you know. Of course there’s something there. I’ve always loved her.”
“But now it’s more than that, right?” Mitch asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not just that childhood bond anymore.”
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, it’s a lot more than that now.”
“It’s like the two of you are drawn to each other. And I know this’ll sound fucking cheesy, but there’s some kind of spark between you guys or some shit. You both light up when you see each other.”
I laughed. “Man, you’re lucky the team didn’t hear you say that.”
“Would you really want them hearing me talk about this?” he shot back.
Touché. Yeah, no. Of course I didn’t.
“So, are you seeing her again?”
“Yeah. She’s coming over tonight to cook for us,” I admitted, almost embarrassed by how much I was looking forward to it, but Mitch didn’t seem fazed.
I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head all day. I still couldn’t believe she’d taken the initiative at her apartment last night. I never would’ve pictured Kennedy doing something like that—she’d always seemed so controlled, so proper.
“Dude,” Mitchell said, snapping me out of it with a shove to my shoulder, harder than usual.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing the spot.
“All I’m saying is—don’t screw this up. Keep your dick in your pants when you’re away from her.”
I started to laugh, but he kept going. “And for fuck’s sake, Nash, treat her well. There are already guys on the team talking about her.”
That grabbed my attention. “Wait, what? Who?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know who.”
Yeah, I did.
“Sampson,” I said flatly.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “But I don’t think he’s the only one.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Sampson, I could see. He’d already started whatever half-flirty friendship he had with Kennedy. But the idea of my other teammates thinking about her like that?
I hadn’t realized they’d even considered going there.
Not that I’d blame them . . . No. Fuck that. I’d totally blame them, but I’d understand it.
“Nope.” Mitch exhaled, leaning back against the wall.
“The way some of the guys have been talking lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few tried their luck—if they think she’s available.
Hell, some won’t even care if she’s with someone, as long as they think it’s casual.
” He straightened, meeting my gaze head-on.
“Figure out what you want with her and make it clear. Fast. At least to the guys.”
A hot, tight knot formed in my chest. The thought of any of them trying something made my jaw clench hard.
“Shit.” I scrubbed my hands over my face, then dragged one through my hair. “Already?”
“She’s a beautiful girl, Nash. The guys are noticing.” Mitch clapped my shoulder. “So get ahead of it.”
I spent the rest of the day thinking about seeing her again.
Not just thinking—buzzing. Off my game in a way I couldn’t explain.
It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a nervous guy. Not before big games, not before playoffs, not in front of twenty thousand people chanting my name. But the idea of Kennedy coming over tonight had something twisting low in my stomach.
I wanted her there. Naked and under me in the worst way.
At my apartment, no less, where nobody would be around to hear us.
I couldn’t wait to hear her moan like she had last night when I made her come.
I wanted more of that, to see if I could get her to scream or even shout my name. Damn, the things I wanted to do to her.
But it wasn’t just that. It was so much more than sexual. I just wanted to see her again.
To be near her.
I wanted to figure out what it meant . . . because for the first time in a long time, I cared what it meant.
Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.