Page 14 of Sliding into Love
Needing the extra fortification of a solid outfit, I go for a set less business driven than last week. My favorite comfort outfit is a golden yellow sundress I found in a shop in Paris one year while traveling with my mom. We’d gone to get away from the rest of the family and to celebrate my first acquisition.
She’d raved that the dress fit me too perfectly to leave behind. I’d always known she’d accepted my varied sense of style. It was in that moment though that I realized I had her fullsupport. She would cheer me on no matter what I wore, who I was, or how I preferred my pronouns.
I pair the dress with a set of Doc Martens. It’s less about matching and more about the eclectic vibe I’m going for. Plus, if someone gives me shit, I can stomp on them with these heavy boots before kicking them out the door. I add a necklace and some earrings to complement the cut of the dress, then I grab a purse for my phone and keys because sadly this dress has no pockets. It’s the only flaw to it.
The gods of traffic look down on me during my commute. Even with waking up late and taking a little extra time to get ready, I manage to make it with five minutes to spare. That five minutes turns to one after the stupidly slow elevator drags me along, which means I have to jog down the hall to Kenneth’s office.
I burst into the room a little out of breath and with my hair floating behind me. It’s longer than I usually keep it, but I can’t seem to part with anything more than a split end trim these days. I don’t know why. It’s not like I go anywhere that requires me to have myself all done up. Most of the time, it’s hanging flat down my back or up in some type of style to combat the heat.
“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I missed my alarm,” I say as I shut the door behind me and move over to my chair.
Kenneth doesn’t say a word to me. Instead, his eyes track my steps around the room until I’m beside him. When I’m close, he takes his time perusing me from head to toe.
Fuck.
There’s that heat I thought I’d imagined last week. I can’t deny it when it’s so obvious.
Knowing that I’m seconds away from showing my own excitement, I drop into the chair in a rush. A gentle tug at the bottom of the dress keeps it over my knees as I cross my legs like I usually do.
I clear my throat, then ask him, “What’s on the agenda for today?”
His gaze hasn’t moved on from my legs just yet. It’s as if the bare skin is a beacon to him, and he can’t look away until he’s answered the call. Or maybe that’s just hopeful thinking.
Hopeful thinking that I need to squash the hell down if I intend for the day to be any kinds of productive.
Before I can push him to actually speak, there’s a knock at the door. It’s enough to rouse Kenneth from his obsession. He hoarsely calls out for the person to come in.
One of the trainers comes in with a list. His frown is more pronounced than usual. I’m thankful when Kenneth greets him by name since I’d forgotten it. My plan to memorize everyone in the organization is taking longer than I’d like.
“Sandy! What brings you to my office this early?”
Sandy shakes his head. “It’s not for anything good, unfortunately. Vasquez and Marcos are both going to need to stay on the injured list. I’ve got three other guys that could probably go on there too, though I’m monitoring them closely now to ensure nothing goes wrong. Almost everyone else has a clean bill of health.”
Intrigued by his word choice, I ask, “Almost everyone?”
He grimaces. “Yeah. Almost. Early this morning I got a call from Bellport General. Lansing Tollide was in a hit and run this morning.”
“Holy shit! Is he ok? Why didn’t anyone call me?” Kenneth’s voice is full of panic. I grab his arm without thinking. His gaze whips over to me.
“Wait a second,” I tell him. Then I turn to Sandy. “Is he ok? What happened?”
Sandy drops into the empty seat across from the desk. “It’s not good at all. I won’t list all the broken bones he’s got, but the short of it is that this kid won’t ever play ball again. He’s onlybeen pro for two years. Barely any time on the field. He had the potential though, you know. He could have been one of the great ones.”
I feel the way Kenneth’s body loosens at the news. I’m not sure if he thought Tollide was dead or if there is another reason he felt triggered. I only know that I want to make it better—for some god-awful reason. It makes not a lick of sense for me to want to soothe him, yet it’s all I can think of.
“Thanks for letting us know, Sandy. Do you have a room number?”
Both men turn to look at me. Sandy rattles off the number, then I’m standing and tugging Kenneth with me.
“Let’s go. We’ve got a player to check on. I’m sure whatever else you had planned today can wait.”
Sandy nods at us. “Tell him I’ll be by in a little bit. I’ve got a session with a few guys this morning, then I can check in with him if that’s ok.”
“Sounds good. Thanks again, Sandy.”
The trainer walks out, leaving me and Kenneth standing side by side. Having only been with the team for a week, I feel like I’m completely underqualified for this shit storm that rolled in. But also, I know there’s no way the man beside me is going to be able to hold it together while checking on someone he considers family.
I’ll have to step up this time. Lead him through whatever comes ahead. Then after he’s back to himself, the distance between us can return. Me being close to Kenneth Meyer isn’t a good idea.
