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“She’s marrying my ex-fiancé, and I’m fairly certain the only reason she wanted me here this weekend was to rub it in my face.”
I must be far more wasted than I assumed because I know I didn’t hear that right. “What did you say?”
“She’s marrying my ex-fiancé.” Her tone holds no inflection. “The guy she only met because I was supposed to marry him, and he always came with me to social obligations. You know, that guy.”
Kennedy throws back the double shot of tequila we each took with us from the last bar.
“And you’re okay with this happening?”
She holds up her now-empty cup. “Does it look like I’m okay with this?”
“But... but what about your parents? They can’t be on board with this.”
“Oh, they love Connor.” She waves me off. “They agree he’ll be the perfect candidate to take over the family business, and since I couldn’t pull the trigger in all the years we were engaged, everyone is perfectly happy with my stepsister stepping in and doing so. Well, except Dean. You know Dean. You hate Dean.”
I do hate Dean.
“He’s the only person that’s vocalized how fucked up this whole thing is.”
Okay, well, maybe I hate Dean a fraction less than I did thirty seconds ago, but Kennedy’s stepbrother is still one of my least favorite people, and I’m forced to see the guy a few times a year when we play against Atlanta.
My blurry and tequila-fogged brain has no idea what to say to this fucked-up situation, so the only thing I come up with is, “You should just get married before them.”
She startles with a laugh. “What?”
“Get married before them. You know, really stick it to them by going first. I bet they’d hate that. Especially when you made whatever-his-name-is wait for so long.”
“I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“I’ve offered.”
“Yeah,” she chuckles. “Except now, apparently, what I need is a husband.”
I keep my attention locked on hers.
She pauses for a minute, rolling something over in her mind before her tone turns serious. “Are you still offering?”
“You’re drunk.”
“So are you.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I think you are too.”
I’m completely out of my mind because with the way she’s looking at me, little smirk on those lips, brown eyes shining with mischief the way mine usually do, I know in this moment, I’d do just about anything she asked me to.
Chapter 4
Kennedy
I don’t know why he’s looking at me like that.
But then again, I think he always looks at me like that.
My skin feels funny. Like it’s on fire, but I’m also cold.
I think I like when Isaiah looks at me.
