Chapter 57 Kennedy
kennedy
“I, Kara Reeves, would like to officially initiate the newest member of the Riders WAGs, Ms. Kennedy Kramer! Cheers to Kennedy, and cheers to the Riders making it to the Stanley Cup Finals!” Kara announces at brunch as we all clink glasses and drink our mimosas at Walt’s.
This is the first time we’ve all been together since the playoff travel schedule is so intense and I’ve had to miss the last few due to being on the road during the third round.
And now, after I confessed to them that we are actually dating, they are over the moon excited.
My heart flutters in my chest, because—same.
“Thank you all. I never felt like I wasn’t a part of this group, but now that we’re officially dating, it does make it all seem a bit more real.”
“Annnddd???” Maggie asks in a singsong voice.
“And what?”
“We want to hear you say it again!” Olivia chimes in.
I roll my eyes, shaking my head at them both. “This is the last time I’ll say it.” I point at my two friends. “You were right, okay? You were right about him.”
They all cheer and laugh as Maggie throws her arm around me. “We are so happy for you, Kenni. Jordan has a heart of gold, and you two are the ‘it couple’ of the playoffs. A hockey player and a pilot? Two people in uniform who both happen to be hot as hell? This is a marketer’s dream.”
I try to scowl, but I can’t shake the damn smile from my face. “Okay, okay, calm down. We’re just dating, Maggie. We’re not walking down the aisle and having a thousand babies.”
“Not yet,” Kara pipes in. “But that boy is so head over heels for you. I guarantee he bought a ring the day you two got into your fake dating predicament…just in case he needed it.”
“Pssht. There’s no way he has a ring yet,” I spit out as my friends all look at me with raised brows. My heart skips a beat. “Wait…do you all know something I don’t know?”
Olivia laughs. “No. We just know Jordan, and that seems pretty on brand for him.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, suddenly wishing there was a little more air in here. Does he want to marry me? Oh God…he did say he didn’t want to sleep with someone unless it was forever? Fuck…do I want that? And fuck…is it weird that I think I do?
It’s been a month since we’ve been dating, actually dating, and every day is like one of the rom-coms we watch when we both have a night free.
I never pictured myself wanting, or needing a lot of attention from someone.
Whenever I pictured my future, we’d both have our separate lives, we’d be together when we could, screwing whenever we got the chance, but these past few weeks have proven one thing to me—that thought was just like the game they play in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days…
bullshit. I don’t even know what’s come over me.
A few months ago, I was irritated to occupy the same space as him, finding everything about him, except his hot body, extremely annoying.
And now I find myself counting down the minutes when I know he’s headed home from practice.
I feel a pang of sadness when he leaves before me in the morning.
An ache in my chest when I have to head to the airport early for a flight.
Not to mention the way we’ve actually been fucking like unhinged, wild animals at night.
The moment he finally let go? Damn, did he let go.
The man is insatiable. And I’m here for it.
He comes in the door, and we barely make it to the bed.
More often than not—we don’t. I’m fairly certain every square foot of my apartment has been defiled.
I have never felt so wanted or needed in my life because, as much as I ache for him, I know he’s aching for me just as bad.
How the hell did an uptight, skeptical person like me get it so bad for a pompous ass professional athlete?
Probably because he’s nothing like that at all—he’s so much more.
Just thinking about him has my heart and my stomach twisting.
Or…no, wait. My stomach is actually twisting.
More like churning and not in a good way.
Fuck, why is the room spinning? Am I this worked up over the thought of marrying him?
Sweat beads on my forehead, panic rising in my throat.
No wait…that’s not panic rising, it's…oh fuck. What the hell is going on?!
“Kenni…you look a little pale. Are you okay?” Olivia says, concerned, placing a hand over mine.
“Yeah…I, I think I just need to go to the bathroom,” I say, speedwalking to the restroom.
As soon as I close the door, I lunge for a stall, barely making it in time for my breakfast to no longer be in my stomach.
Holy shit. Did I accidentally grab Jordan’s regular milk for my coffee instead of the almond milk?
Shit, I need to pay more attention. Or maybe it’s from the stress of the stalker being eerily quiet, like the calm before the storm.
“Kenni…are you alright?” Maggie worriedly asks through the stall door.
I flush the toilet and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah, just…that just hit me fast. I think I grabbed the wrong milk this morning.”
Silence fills the bathroom. “You sure?”
I open the stall door, walking past her to the sink. “Yep. I’m better now.” I wash my hands, the cool water soothing my clammy skin. “I think I’m going to head out, though. I’m super tired this morning.”
“Kennedy,” Maggie says, using my full name.
Fuck. In Maggie speak, full names are never a good sign.
“Are you sure it was the milk? I know you guys are banging all hours of the day. You know I’m right down the hall, right?
No judgment here, of course, but when I came by to grab a few things to take to Vladi’s the other day… I could hear you from the hallway.”
I glare into the mirror, meeting her eyes. “Yes, Maggie, I’m having sex with my super hot, young, full-of-stamina boyfriend. What about it?”
“Is there any possibility you could be…you know?” She pauses, and my stomach sinks. Don’t say it… “Pregnant?”
My gaze drops to my hands, rubbing them together as I shake off the thought, convincing myself she’s lost her damn mind. “No. There’s no way. I’m on the pill.”
She gently nudges my shoulder with hers. “Is that all you’re using? Cause that’s not foolproof.”
“I don’t need a sex-ed lecture, thank you very much. I’m not pregnant. I can’t be. I had my period…” My eyes widen, finding hers in the mirror again. “Shit…when did I have it last?”
Maggie winces, looking at me like it pains her to say more. But she does. “It wouldn’t hurt to grab a test—just to rule it out. You’re right, it was probably just the wrong milk this morning. But if you keep drinking the right milk and throwing up, it might be something else.”
I nod. “Yeah. No big deal—I’ll just grab a test. Just to rule it out.”
“Exactly. We’re just ruling things out here. Insert a pilot analogy; you have to rule things out. I’m sure you have one.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yes, we rule out problems all the time.”
“See? You do this all the time! Truly, no big deal. Now, come on; I’ll give you a ride home.”
I pull her into a hug. “Thank you. Thanks for being my friend and my neighbor and pushing me to love that man. I’m…I’m so happy,” I say as a tear runs down my cheek.
“Love you too, Kenni. You know, now that I think about it, I bet it is the 2% milk that’s making you so emotional.”
I glare at her out of the corner of my eye as we leave the bathroom. “Ha ha. Very funny. I take back my thank you.”
“Bitch, you know you love me. Now let’s go get a stick for you to pee on.”