Chapter 19
kennedy
“That was the longest two hours of my life, Kenni—I need details!” Maggie screams on the other end of our FaceTime call.
“Geezus, Maggie, I haven’t even had coffee yet.
” I run my hand across my face. So much for a relaxing day.
“You do know the point of the phone is so you don’t have to yell, right?
” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t side eye me, miss ‘what if you did date him.’ You and your ridiculous idea got me into this mess and…
” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I suppose I did agree to it. Sorry, it’s… shit, it’s been a morning.”
Another notification pops up on my phone. Fuck.
“Who is it? Is it Jordan?!” she screeches, still too loud for my morning ears.
“It’s Kara. I’ll call her back later.”
“Don’t you dare!” she warns. “Get her on the phone now! We’ll have a virtual catch-up session. I’ll add Olivia and Shelly.”
My head shakes, my thumb itching to just hang up, but the mere thought of having to recount this story multiple times is a fate worse than death. There’s no avoiding the inevitable. “Fine. Hang on—let me add Kara.”
After we get everyone on the call, I see them all foaming at the mouth for details. They look like a bunch of crazed owls—every damn one of them wide-eyed and ready to swoop down and snatch up the latest bit of gossip.
“Today’s emergency meeting of the Brunch Babes has now commenced,” Kara proclaims in a very regal tone.
Her husband being the captain makes her the official First Lady of the WAGs.
“Kennedy Kramer, you are hereby subpoenaed for interrogation as to the details of your new relationship with Jordan ‘Bougie’ Boucher. Please place your hand on the Gideon’s Bible in the hotel room so we can swear you in. ”
Everyone laughs, easing some of the nerves and tension in my body.
I lean against the headboard, pulling a pillow in my lap.
God, I love these gals so much. I love my family, but found family are like a warm hug on a shitty day.
I can’t even be mad right now because, if the situation was reversed, I’d be doing the same thing.
Here goes nothing.
“Yes. We’re dating. Fake dating. Emphasis on fake. However, the fake thing is a secret. And I’m specifically calling that out for you, Olivia.”
“What?! I’ve been so much better lately! I haven’t told anyone that Maggie and Vladi bought that new sex bed thing.”
Maggie’s face reddens darker than a beet with a glare of pure irritation aimed directly at Olivia. “It’s called a swing, Liv, and I haven’t told anyone else either, thank you very much!” Maggie snarks, admonishing Olivia for spilling yet another secret.
An awkward smile stretches her cheeks. “Shoot! Sorry about that. Well…at least it’s just us on the phone.”
“I want to hear more about the sex bed thing.” Shelly smirks.
“Thanks, Liv,” Maggie snaps. “Whatever. It’s fine. I’m not embarrassed. Vladi will be pissed when the guys find out, but he’ll get over it. I’m less concerned about that leaking than this secret about Kenni and Jordan.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Promise”
I roll my eyes, only half believing her. I do think she’ll keep this within the group. But, a lump forms in my throat and I swallow it down—it’s only a matter of time before the boys learn the truth.
“Enough stalling. Kenni…spill. How the hell did this happen?” Kara asks.
I fill them in on all the details from the bar last night, the photo, the idea—stupid fucking idea, damn Maggie—and how it all came to fruition. All their mouths gape the entire time as they hang on my every word. Damn, does our group love to hear the tea. I mean…same, but not when it’s about me.
“So now we have to go on a date when the team is in Dallas. He literally asked me if I brought anything to wear other than pilot clothes.” I wince, slumping down in the bed. What the hell have I gotten myself into? “Guys, I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Kara pipes up. “This could be good for you! It seems like a good solution to your problem, and there are a lot worse things I can think of than having a hot, young guy at your side.”
“Young guys are trending right now, Kenni,” Shelly says with more enthusiasm than I’d like. “Men have been dating younger women for decades—it’s about damn time we got ourselves some good-looking younger men.”
“Can we please stop using the word young? It implies that I’m old, and I already feel like I’m in my nineties. You know me. When I’m not working, I sit my ass on my couch and do nothing. He seems to want to go out every night and go to all these fancy things. Not my cup of tea.”
“Oh, come on. It’s fun to get all dolled up and go out once in a while!
” Olivia says. “Maybe he’s just going out all the time because he’d be sitting at home alone, too.
Some people don’t like being by themselves.
I know I’m one of them. When Hayes is away, I’m constantly trying to fill my schedule just to not have to sit at home by myself.
Maybe Jordan is like that. You never really know what’s going on behind closed doors. ”
My nails tap a nervous rhythm against the back of my phone case. I love my friends, but why do they keep defending him? “I can’t imagine that playboy being scared of being alone.”
“Regardless of his reasons, I think you should give this a shot,” Kara says seriously.
“Then give us all the details. Are you going to have to kiss?” Her brows raise to the top of her hairline as she squeaks.
“Oh my God, you are! Have you practiced it? Talked about it? Did you guys write up a PDA contract or something? What are the rules here?! Ahhh! I’m so excited for this! ”
Kara is indeed way too excited about this.
“No,” I scoff, “We have not practiced shit. No contracts. We’ll hold hands and stuff, but we will not be kissing. Maybe a peck on the cheek. Nothing more. Ever.”
“Kenni.” Maggie looks like she’s a teacher about to scold me.
“No one will believe you’re dating if you only give each other a peck on the cheek.
If you were in a real relationship with that hot piece of ass, and he’s with your hot piece of ass, you would not be able to keep your hands, or your tongues, away from each other. ”
“Mags, oh my God,” Olivia yelps, her cheeks blushing.
“I’m just saying! Bougie wasn’t named Hottest Rookie in the NHL last year for nothing.”
“You know Vladi would murder you if he heard you say that.” Shelly giggles.
“I’m just saying he’s hot in a brother-like way. I mean…shit, there’s hardly a bad-looking man on the entire team! Am I right?” Maggie exclaims as everyone else nods in agreement.
Great.
“Listen…I’m not saying he’s ugly, but…uggghh…
what have I gotten myself into?!” I cover my face with my hand.
I mean, he is attractive—I won’t deny that—but I’m also not going to admit it out loud, especially not to my nosy as shit friends.
My sexual frustration of not having had any in a while is too much to even consider making out with him.
“Even if he is, just because someone’s good-looking doesn’t mean we’re compatible for dating, or fake dating.
His rich boy attitude isn’t going to cut it for me.
Besides, he’s the one who got me into this whole mess to begin with!
” The muscles in my jaw tense. I’m the one who’s going to have to make changes to my life to accommodate this. I hate this already.
“Okay…I think we’ve had enough of the Kennedy show for today. I need to figure out what to do with my life, and I think his PR rep is supposed to call me or something. I’d better go get in the shower and prepare for this super fun day.”
“Keep us posted! We want to know about any tongue action ASAP!” Kara yells as I roll my eyes.
“Bye, girls! Nice chatting with you, as always. Not weird at all that you’re pressuring me to make out with my fake boyfriend!” I singsong before hanging up.
I could never have a long-term relationship with someone so much younger than me.
He’s from a completely different world. A different generation, for fucks sake.
He had to explain slang terms to me. I thought I was hip, but nope!
Old as fuck apparently. I groan, finally pulling myself out of bed.
I’m a Millennial. We used to be the young ones.
Now we’re just in the ancient civilization category with the Gen Xers and the Boomers.
How did this happen? I swore when I was younger that I would never be old like my parents, convinced I would always stay hip to the pop culture and trends.
I roll my eyes as I turn on the shower. When did adulting become boring?
My shoulders slump as I toss my clothes in a messy pile on the floor.
When I finally step in, the warm droplets soothe the tension in my muscles from all this stress.
I breathe in the steam, leaning back to wet my hair.
This is relaxing. But my stomach turns, wishing I were able to shut off my mind like I could the faucet.
I smile, knowing my friends were helping me not freak the fuck out at what I’ve gotten myself into.
Telling me that he’s sweet. That he doesn’t want to be alone.
I lather up the shampoo, biting the inside of my lip.
I mean…I don’t want to be alone either. I push my shoulders back.
Him not wanting to sit at home by himself does not mean he’s ready to settle down and start a family.
The hollow ache in my chest cries out as a reminder—I am ready for that.
But, at the end of the day, they were right about one thing—he is attractive. Something nice to look at for a few months at least. I suppose it could be a hell of a lot worse.
Finally clean, I stare into the abyss, my anxiety still racing through me like a jet hitting the runway at full speed.
I need to relax. I bite my lip. If there’s one thing that helps me do that, it’s getting myself off while thinking about a nice, age-appropriate man.
My hands wander across my skin, down past my stomach, thinking about running them down someone’s chiseled abdomen.
My fingers squeeze my nipple, imagining how it would feel if it were someone else.
Their mouth teasing the sensitive bud—worshipping every inch of my body.
I push my fingers inside my aching entrance, lubing myself up enough to rub gentle circles around my clit.
Not directly on it. Just to the side. Just the right amount of pressure.
Just the way I like it. God, what would it feel like for this to be someone else’s fingers?
Rough, callused, and firmly caressing me the way I want.
Rubbing myself faster, harder, thinking about being in control over him.
To sit on his face, suffocating him with my cunt, feeling his tongue fluttering across my clit, getting me as close to the edge as I am now.
How hard would his dick be lying there while I ride his face and find my release with his mouth?
What would it feel like if he were here, picking me up and using his thick as fuck thighs to hold me steady while he thrusts inside and presses me against the wall?
Our tongues colliding as my hands dig into his sculpted shoulders so hard they leave a mark.
Oh God.
The pressure builds, warmth flooding my core, and I can’t hold it in anymore. I fully let go, and my orgasm hits me hard. My body shakes uncontrollably as I moan, a name escaping my lips that shocks the hell out of me.
“Jordan.”
My entire body quivers as I float down from my peak.
I fucking needed that. I collapse against the shower wall, the chill welcome against my flushed flesh.
The water prickles my overly sensitive skin as it calms the fever running through me.
My pulse is barely steady as my eyes pop open and my hands fly to the wall to steady myself.
The relaxation I clawed free is ripped away, my throat closing as the realization hits—there is only one thing that would make this situation a million times worse.
Goddammit. I want to fuck my fake boyfriend.