Play Along (Windy City, #4)

by Liz Tomforde

“I like those.” Isaiah holds them up to the cashier. “Can we get these in a six and a half?” “What are you doing?” “Buying you shoes. Your feet hurt.”

AHHHHHHHH

I pull my credit card out of my clutch, but Isaiah snags it, slipping it into his back pocket without looking at it or me. He simply continues to peruse the aisle, pulling a pair of socks off the rack by the register before unhooking the hanger of a denim jacket and holding it up for my approval. “I can pay for my own shoes.” “And I said I was buying you a drink.” “This isn’t a drink.” “This is part of the drink. This is my one shot, and if you’re uncomfortable the whole time you’re never going to want to have a drink with me again and I can’t blow my one shot because it’s cold and your feet hurt.”

“Have I told you lately how much I dislike you?” “Mmm,” he hums. “I should warn you, Ken, I like it when you’re mean. It does something to me.” “So that’s why you haven’t left me alone all these years? I should’ve been nice to you all this time, I guess.” “I probably would’ve proposed a handful of times by now if you were. Nice. Mean. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“He needs to keep his eyes to himself,” Isaiah mutters as he reaches down between us, using the leg of the chair to pull me as close to him as possible. I can’t help but laugh. “Kind of like how you are right now?”

Hotttt

I grab the cocktail list from the counter. “What are we drinking?” “We? Jesus, Kenny, this is a first date. I didn’t realize we were a ‘we’ already.”

Isaiah Rhodes is self-assured, but in this goofy, annoyingly charismatic manner that doesn’t feel too suffocating. He’s laid-back and easygoing in a way I can’t relate to.

I can be honest and say I don’t know much more than that about him, but I would imagine that Isaiah Rhodes makes smart girls do stupid things. Which is why I’ve never given into or even thought about the constant flirting and the years of pickup lines he’s spewed my way.

“How do you feel about tequila?” he asks. “I feel like it causes me to make poor decisions.” “Perfect.” That signature smile is back before he turns towards the bartender and orders two of the same drink.

Me lmaooooo

“Three years?” “We met on this day, three years ago, and I’ve wanted you to tell Dr. Fredrick to promote you every day since. You’re overqualified, Kenny, and I’m the only one who knows. You’re taping ankles and wrapping ice packs when you’re a literal fucking doctor.” “You remember the exact date we met?”

“I’d be the first female lead doctor in the MLB.” Isaiah’s lips curve at that. “As you should be. That’s amazing, Kenny. You deserve all the good things.”

Isaiah sighs in resignation, sinking back into his seat. “California, huh? Did you know that’s my least favorite place?” “And when did you decide that?” “About two minutes ago.”

:(((((

I have no fucking clue how I got here, having God knows how many drinks with Kennedy Kay. Somewhere along the way we left the Cosmo and made our way through three more bars. Or was it four now? Fuck if I know.

She won a hundred bucks on the penny slots. We found ourselves in a karaoke bar without a single other person under the age of forty. I sang a rendition of Mariah Carey’s “Touch My Body” and we left as soon as the older women started taking the lyrics literally.

Leaning my forearms down on the gate in front of me, I make myself eye level with her. “Kennedy, I have feelings for you.” “They’ll pass.” Her glazed eyes stay fixated on the water ahead of her. “I’m serious, Ken. I’ve got a major crush.” “A crush is just a lack of information.”

She’s not wrong. At least, from what she knows about me. What she doesn’t know is that I haven’t even looked at another woman since the day I realized she stopped wearing her engagement ring. So no, I don’t like everyone. I like her.

“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.”

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.

“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.

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.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” he says. “That’s what I’m hoping for.” The words feel silly. I don’t think my tongue is connected to my mouth.

Mariah Carey. Isaiah sang a Mariah Carey song tonight. He was pretty good. “Obsessed.” I think I might be obsessed. Why do I keep thinking about him? Isaiah laughs. I laugh because he laughed.

“I finally married the girl I’ve been obsessed with for years.” Obsessed is a weird word too. I’m obsessed with how soft this pillow is. My new shoes are so cute. Isaiah is so cute too. I’ll never tell him that.

Eight months of waiting for⁠— Kennedy. Holy fuck. I recognize that hair curtaining the woman next to me. Kennedy Kay Auburn. Kennedy is in my bed.

Flashes of last night seep through my foggy memory. Her pulling me into a chapel. Me asking her countless times if she was sure about this. Her being positive this is what she wanted. Me only hearing the words that Kennedy wanted to marry me. My last memory was that on the worst day of the year, I had the time of my life. I suck a sharp inhale in realization because I vaguely remember slipping that ring on her finger, but I could’ve sworn that everything from last night was a fucking dream.

Still sitting on the bed, I hold up my left hand. “We did, however, get married.” Her eyes shoot open. “What the hell is that?” “Same thing that’s on your hand.” Her right hand covers her mouth the same time she holds out her left for examination. “No, we didn’t.” “We did.” “We didn’t!”

She simply stands there in that denim jacket and white dress, shaking her head. Ironic, that the dress she wore to her stepsister’s bachelorette is now her wedding dress. I chuckle to myself. What the fuck did we do?

For the first time since I’ve known the girl, I’m fucking pissed at her. “Do not put this on me, Kennedy. You asked me to do this.” “No,” she laughs incredulously. “There’s not a chance in hell that I, of all people, asked you to marry me.” “You begged me to!”

Her eyes are wild. “Then you should’ve told me no!” “When have I ever been able to say no to you?!” Her jaw hardens, both our chests heaving in anger. “Take it off.” “What?” “The ring.”

“As if you’re not going to go running to Cody, Travis, or Kai and tell them about this.” “Oh, I’m for sure telling those three.” “Isaiah Rhodes.” “Kennedy Rhodes,” I mimic.

AHHHHHHHH!!!!

“You have a lawyer?” “Oh my God.” Head falling back, she exposes that pretty throat and lets out a whine that goes straight to my cock. No. No it doesn’t because I’m mad at her right now.

She attempts to hold back a small smile. “Yeah, from what I remember, I didn’t totally hate hanging out with you.” “Geez. Cool it, Ken. I get it. You’re into me.”

“Does this mean the honeymoon phase is over already?” “I hate you!” “See you at home, wifey!”

LMAOOOOO I LOVE HIM

I feel bad lying to Miller, but I know what her exciting news is. I know she got engaged to Isaiah’s brother, Kai, this weekend. I also know I couldn’t show up to Max’s birthday party and act like I’m not legally bound to his uncle.

“Damn,” Isaiah exhales when I meet him outside of Denise’s office. “You look…” He whistles. He, on the other hand… “Really, Rhodes? Your socks don’t even match. You couldn’t have tried to at least look presentable to watch me get fired?”

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. We both know what’s about to happen in there. We both know one of us is going to lose their job and seeing as you have the team’s best batting average, I’d make an educated guess and say it’s not going to be you.” An annoying smirk tilts on his lips. “Keeping an eye on my stats, huh?”

We silently enter and I don’t breathe as Isaiah pulls the chair out for me to sit across from the team’s owner, and the oxygen still doesn’t come when he takes the seat next to mine.

Right there, blown up on the screen, is a full-color photo of Isaiah and me outside of the little chapel where we drunkenly said some vows. I’m in my white dress, denim jacket, and Vans. He’s in black slacks and a black button-up. He’s got me tucked under one arm, holding me close to him, the other fisted in the air in victory, dangling my white high heels above his head.

In big block letters across the top, the article reads, “CHICAGO SHORTSTOP MARRIES LONG-TIME LOVE IN LAS VEGAS.”

Through the silence, I continue to read a direct quote from the man at my side. The subhead reads, “I FINALLY MARRIED THE GIRL I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FOR YEARS.”

A foot nudges mine and I look up to find Isaiah watching me. You okay? he mouths. I simply shake my head in response, and instantly watch the spark of fire ignite in his eyes.

“I have no choice here,” he continues. “You both signed agreements that you’d follow our code of conduct. Kennedy, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to⁠—” “You said casual relationships are cause for termination,” Isaiah interrupts him. “Look at the headline. You see what was quoted. I’ve been in love with her for years. There’s nothing casual about this.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t come to you or HR sooner, but Kennedy and I have been involved with each other for quite a while now. We planned a Vegas elopement. There’s nothing casual about our marriage, and there’s nothing against team policy that says a husband and wife can’t work together.”

“In fact, you remember Oscar Henderson, our old catcher? His wife was the team photographer. There’s nothing different about our situation than theirs. Kennedy is the best trainer we have on staff, and you can’t let her go just because she finally put me out of my misery and let me marry her.”

“And your rings?” Mr. Remington zeroes in on our bare left hands. I hadn’t realized Isaiah took his ring off too. “Where are your rings from the photo?” “Getting resized,” Isaiah says without missing a beat.

“You’d be making a mistake, Mr. Remington. Kennedy is not only great at her job, but the entire team loves having her on staff. Nothing has changed. The only difference between today and last season is that now I get to call her my wife.”

MY WIFE!!!!!

It’s what has me looking up from my lap, making eye contact with the man who holds my future in his hands and correcting him. “Mrs. Rhodes, actually.” The words taste like acid. “Yes, it’s true. This thing between Isaiah and me has been going on for years.”

“Why would you go along with this?” I ask. “Why would I go along pretending that the wedding I had with this girl I’ve had a crush on for years is legitimate? Why would I force myself to spend time with her for an entire season to make sure she lands her dream job at the end of it? Hmm, I’m not sure, Kenny. Let’s think about that.”

“You don’t even know me.” “Everybody begins as strangers.” “And it doesn’t bother you that I can’t really stand you most of the time?” There’s a playful glint in his brown eyes. “I think that’s what I like most about you.” “You like what you can’t have,” I correct. “Nah. I just like annoying you. You get that flat line across your lips and that death glare. Very hot, Ken.”

My eyes roll. “Mmm,” he moans. “The eye roll too.” “Please try to be serious for once in your life. If we do this, I’m basically using you.” “Sounds terrible. Please, Kennedy, use me all you want.”

“You’d be married to someone as a business arrangement, you know? One day, you’re going to have to tell other women that technically, you’re a divorcé.” He holds eye contact. “I’m not worried about other women. Haven’t been for a long time.”