8
Nash
I was next to Mitch, who was trying—and failing—to balance an empty water bottle on his forehead while we waited for takeoff on the plane to North Carolina, when I found out the Men’s Advantage campaign was a go.
I ignored Mitch, despite his repeated request for me to watch “the work of a master,” and read through the email.
Tim, my agent, had finalized everything, and the paperwork was already signed.
I’d get the schedule within a couple of days.
It would be a mix of interviews and pictures focused on my training and nutrition.
They would follow me around for a day. Come with me to the gym, watch me on the ice, and discuss my diet, discipline, and routine.
It was a prestigious thing to be asked to do, and I appreciated the opportunity, but part of me worried that this would fuel more of the type of attention I’d been getting since Armani.
I was concerned they wanted to focus more on my looks than my work, but the campaign seemed to have actual substance, like what they were trying to do mattered.
What had me grinning so wide that Mitch raised an eyebrow was the second piece of news. I read the email twice to make sure I hadn’t misinterpreted it, but I hadn’t. Kennedy Miller was leading the campaign.
Damn.
The bottle fell off Mitch’s head and rolled down the aisle.
“Dude,” he said, giving me a look. “What has you smiling like a creep?”
I chuckled. “The Men’s Advantage project I told you about . . .”
“Yeah?” Mitch said, looking like he was trying to decide if he should go after the bottle or just leave it before settling on leaving it.
“Kenny’s running it.”
“What?” His head whipped around. “Let me see.”
I passed him my phone, and he scanned the message. Then he read aloud, “‘The campaign’s new lead, Kennedy Miller, has taken full ownership of the creative direction.’”
He lowered the phone and shot me a knowing grin. “She’s in charge of your ass, man. Better be good to her.”
Oh, I’m trying, I thought, grinning.
I’d been hoping her work would make her stick around town, and this proved she was doing an excellent job and getting ahead, just like she wanted.
It was completely dark out by the time we got to the hotel. I checked in to the room and sat down on the bed with my back against the headboard, stretching my legs out in front of me.
I opened my messages and found the thread with Kennedy.
Nash
Looks like we’ll be working together. Just found out I’m officially in on the Men’s Advantage campaign.
I didn’t expect a reply right away. It was after midnight, and most people were long done for the day. But my phone buzzed within seconds.
Kennedy
I heard! I’m going through campaign materials now.
Nash
You’re still working?
Kennedy
Yeah. There’s a lot to catch up on. I want this one to be great.
I didn’t like the idea of Kennedy working this late, not just because it was no work-life balance but also because she’d have to take the subway by herself at night.
Nash
You’re still at the office?
Kennedy
No. I’m home. Working in the kitchen.
That had me breathing a sigh of relief.
Nash
Mine will be the 7th? Who’s first?
Kennedy
Swimmer Jay Paulson.
Nash
Nice. The Olympic gold medalist. Not bad company to be in.
Kennedy
All the participants are impressive.
Nash
Well, I’m flattered you’re saving the best for last.
Kennedy
Seventh isn’t last.
Nash
Close enough.
There was a short pause. I imagined her rolling her eyes.
Kennedy
Hate to break it to you, but you were the one that used to say, “second best isn’t first.”
I laughed, shaking my head at the screen. She wasn’t wrong.
Nash
Ouch. That Olympic swimmer must’ve really impressed you.
Kennedy
I haven’t met him, but he’s got three gold medals and a world record.
I smirked.
Nash
Okay, fair. But I bet he never scored a hat trick in the last five minutes winning the game by one.
Kennedy
First of all, yes that’s impressive, but still not a world record. Second, you were 14.
I laughed out loud, both impressed and happy that she remembered.
Nash
Fine, but I’m good at other things.
Kennedy
Like what?
Nash
Work ethic. Strategic thinking.
Oh, and I make a killer omelet.
Kennedy
You can cook now?
Nash
No, but I can make eggs.
I could practically hear her snort through the screen.
Kennedy
So that’s your pitch? That I should overlook the gold medals because you’re good at breakfast?
Nash
Oh, I’m good at a lot more things than breakfast.
The dots popped up, disappeared, then came back again.
I leaned my head back against the headboard, picturing Kennedy flustered, her cheeks going pink, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.
Yeah, I wanted to cook her breakfast. Preferably after waking up with her in my bed.
I could imagine her in my kitchen, wearing one of my T-shirts, legs bare, hair up.
Kennedy
Hmm. I’ll let you know after I try the omelet.
Teasing Kennedy had always been fun.
Nash
Hope you like yours hot.
Another pause.
Kennedy
Are we still talking about eggs?
Nash
Depends . . .
Kennedy
I’m almost afraid to ask, but on what?
Nash
On whether you’re coming over hungry . . . or already satisfied.
I paused before sending the last text. This conversation had taken a turn from innocent to something else entirely, and my body was definitely reacting to it.
Good thing I was alone in the room because I was sporting a serious erection.
I stared at the screen, debating whether the message was too much, but the mental image of her reaction pushed me over the edge. I hit Send and waited.
She didn’t respond right away.
For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far—then the bubbles appeared.
Kennedy
Wow.
Nash
Too much?
Kennedy
You’re lucky I like eggs.
I typed “You’ll like mornings with me even more” but decided not to send that.
I set my phone aside and stretched out on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling.
I should’ve gone to sleep—we had an early practice in the morning—but all I could think about was Kennedy.
The way teasing her made me grin like an idiot.
The way it didn’t feel like just friendship anymore.
I wanted her here, in this bed, instead of several states away, but it wasn’t just about that.
I didn’t want the occasional night out when our schedules lined up or a few text messages, even if I liked the way they were turning into something more.
I wanted something real with her, and maybe it was time I stopped acting like I didn’t and actually did something about it.