7. Kenna

7

KENNA

"They can't get yer goat if they don't know where it's tied." ~ Archie "Witty" Whitlock

My butt had barely hit the freezing cold bleachers when I heard Lena Crabtree, who was seated behind me, say, "Sam's lookin' mighty fine."

"Mmm, hmm," Sabrina Stern hummed her agreement. "That boy is easy on the eyes and knows what he's doin' between the thighs."

The two women giggled, and I felt like I had gone into Bill if I did, he'd sense it. He had an unnerving way of reading my mind. Which was why I had to be on guard around him. I couldn't let him know how I felt about him, now that I'd admitted it to myself. It was fucking exhausting.

I'd been doing a really good job at remaining strong and putting boundaries in place. Well, except this morning when I grabbed his U.S.M.C. hoodie and threw it on. I'd ‘borrowed' the hoodie he'd gotten in boot camp without asking over a decade ago and never given it back. Whenever I was particularly missing him, feeling sad, confused, or upset, I wore it. It was my adult version of a blankie. Luckily, my winter coat covered it up, so he couldn't see I was wearing it. If he did, he might want it back, and that was not something I was ready to give up. Especially with all these new boundaries, I needed his hoodie more than ever.

"Hey," I replied as our eyes met, and his heated stare warmed me from the inside out. If it had been anyone else, I would have sworn that fireworks were exploding between us, but since it was Sam, I knew that any explosions were one-sided and not reciprocated.

My reaction was exactly why I needed to stay strong and hold my ground. It didn't matter if I hadn't seen him in an hour, a day, or just a few minutes; every time I did, I erupted with tingles and butterflies. I was coming to learn that my hormones were very loyal and monogamous. If they were reacting like this to Sam, then they would not react like this to another guy like Jonah. I needed them to react this way to Jonah, who was available, attractive, gainfully employed, not afraid of commitment, and, most importantly, seemed interested.

After I left the station yesterday, my brother called me and said that Jonah had asked him about me. Milo told me he'd given Jonah my phone number. He'd yet to reach out, but I had to think that if he was going to go to all the trouble of getting my digits, he was probably going to use them.

"Why didn't you call me back?" Sam was standing above me, wearing a baseball cap low on his brow. The sun was in my eyes as I looked up at him, so it was difficult for me to read his expression, but he didn't sound happy.

I shrugged casually. "I figured I'd see you today."

Sam had called me last night when I was already in bed after he got off his shift. The truth was, I was wide awake but didn't pick up or return his call because I hadn't wanted him to pop over, which I knew he would. If he did that, he'd probably ask if I wanted to watch Gremlins , Mannequin , The Goonies , The Breakfast Club , Top Gun , Short Circuit , or one of my other favorite classic '80s movies. Inevitably, I'd cave, and then we'd end up having a movie night.

That was the problem with him living so close. It was such easy access. Not only that, but he was truly my best friend. There wasn't anyone else in the world I wanted to hang out with as much as him. This boundary thing was going to take all of my willpower, self-control, and strength, but it was absolutely necessary. Without it, I'd remain stuck.

I'd been white-knuckling through it the past few weeks, and I was hoping it would get easier each time I turned down an offer to hang out. Instead, it seemed to be getting progressively harder. Even now, my hands were sweating, and my heart was palpitating wildly.

"Did you listen to my message?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I said I needed to talk to you."

Even in the shadow of the lid of his hat, I could see the hurt in his big brown eyes. I knew he didn't appreciate being ignored; who did? But in fairness, I didn't appreciate having a front-row seat to him banging half the female population of Texas. So, yeah. There was that.

"Sorry," I apologized. "What's up?"

His brow furrowed. "Did I do something to piss you off?"

"No," I lied.

He lifted his hand and pointed at me. "You Samantha'd. You're lying."

Sam had always maintained that when I lied, my nose twitched just like Samantha on Bewitched. It might be true. I hated fibbing and could very well be physically allergic to it.

"Whitlock! Let's go!" Sergeant Conner, Sam's boss, called out.

"Can we grab some food after the game?"

Technically, he'd asked a question, although his question sounded more like a demand than a request.

I shook my head. "I have to work tonight."

"Yeah, not till five."

It was irritating that he knew my schedule. "I think I'm gonna just chill."

The hurt look in his eyes was almost enough to make me falter. Sam's big brown puppy dog eyes were not easy to resist. In fact, I'd never actually been able to, which was another reason I needed to stay so strong. Hopefully, I'd build up a resistance—an antidote, if you will–—to the powerful poison of his persuasion.

"Whitlock!" Milo called out. "Let's go!"

I grinned. "I think you're being paged."

"What's going on with you?" he asked me, ignoring my brother.

"I'm a virgin, and I realized, through therapy, that I always thought my first time was going to be with you. That we would end up together. Clearly, that isn't going to happen, so I need to make room for another love, a reciprocal romantic love in my life," is what I thought.

What I said was, "Nothing."

Milo, who had always been impatient, jogged up to the stands and clapped his hands in the air. "Let's go, Whitlock! Girl talk can wait."

Since technically Sam was the twins' friend first, they always gave him shit whenever he chose to hang out with me to watch movies, reality TV, or play video games. It used to make me swoon that he never let their trash-talking affect our relationship. But now, now I realized that was just another aspect of how I'd been lulled into a false sense of what our relationship was.

Reluctantly, Sam turned and jogged down the bleachers. Not able to help myself, my eyes watched him go. The man truly did look as good going as he did coming.

The ref did the coin toss, and the guys took the field. Jonah was lined up as the firefighters' quarterback. As they all got into formation, I noticed that his stare landed on me. I turned and glanced over my shoulder to see if it was me, he was looking at. When I turned back, he grinned and waved. I discreetly lifted my hand in a small wave, in case I was mistaken and his attention had been focused on someone else.

"What did we miss?" my cousin Taylor asked as she and her daughter Harper and Harper's new stepmom Ruby took their seats beside me.

"Nothing; it's just about to start. Harp, I love your hair!" I enthused.

My niece, who was actually my second cousin, had the tips of her brown locks dyed a bright pink. "Thanks, Auntie Kenna! Miss Bella did it for me."

"She did a great job! Very cool!"

"Can I go sit with Lilah?" Harper asked her mom.

Taylor glanced over to where Lilah was sitting with her parents, Destiny and JJ Briggs. There must be some sort of parental telepathy, because without Taylor saying anything, both JJ and Destiny gave her the thumbs up.

"Sure." The second Taylor gave Harper permission, she hopped off the bleacher like a bunny on speed.

When she left, Ruby scooted down into her place. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her looking between Taylor and me.

"What?" I asked her.

"Nothing." Ruby shook her head.

"She knows," Taylor stated matter-of-factly as she turned to Ruby. "She knew before anyone, because she heard Remi and me talking in the hallway at the Cow."

Ah, so Taylor had finally spilled the beans that she and Remi were together. They'd tried to keep their relationship secret, but like Taylor pointed out, I'd overheard a private conversation they'd had. I'd known for a couple weeks now and had kept the info to myself. Well, sort of to myself. I'd told Sam. But, in fairness, I told Sam everything. Rather, I used to. That would need to stop as well. We shared an ‘unhealthy level of intimacy' according to Dr. McKinney.

The game started, and we all turned our attention to the field. It was flag football, so technically there shouldn't be any tackling, but the guys tended to get physical. This year, they seemed to be really going for it. I wondered if Jonah, a former NFL player, had anything to do with the uptick in aggression and competitive drive.

There were quite a few plays that I had to look away, sure that someone was injured. I hated violence, even in sports. I got sympathy pains seeing them crash into each other.

"Wow, they're really going for it," Taylor commented.

"Yeah, it's usually not this full-on," Ruby observed, and I agreed with her.

The score was tied 21-21 with thirty seconds on the clock in the fourth quarter. Firefighters had the ball and were on the sixty-yard line. This was it; this could be the final play of the game.

"I think the quarterback is looking at you," Taylor commented.

"He is?" I hadn't noticed because I'd been too busy looking at Sam—shocker, I know.

When I directed my gaze to Jonah, I saw that my cousin was right. He was looking right at me. When our eyes met, he smiled and pointed at me.

"That's was sort of hot," Ruby swooned.

Yes, yes, it was.

The ball was snapped, and Jonah threw it high in the air. Sam was covering Milo, who had run a route that put him on the thirty. I watched as my brother jumped into the air to catch it. I thought for sure he was going to get it, but out of nowhere, Sam's hands wrapped around the pigskin. He pulled it into his arms, landed on the ground, and took off running toward his endzone like a bat outta hell.

The crowd stood to their feet and clapped and shouted encouragement as he crossed the forty, the thirty, the twenty. When he got to the ten-yard line, Jonah had caught up with him, and he lunged for one of Sam's flags. Sam must have seen it out of the corner of his eye, because he juked him, spun around, and leaped to the goal line.

Everyone in the stands erupted in cheers, even the people who were there to root for Fire, which technically I was since that was Milo's team. After turning around and giving high-fives to the spectators in my immediate vicinity, I turned toward Taylor and Ruby, who had both been celebrating moments before, and saw Taylor staring down at the field with her work/professional face on. She was a doctor, and during her residency, I'd visited her several times, so I knew that expression well.

My eyes shot to the end zone, and I saw that Sam was still on the ground. He hadn't gotten up. Something was wrong. Milo, an EMT, gestured to the side of the field and called out for someone to get a stretcher.

"What is it?" I asked Taylor. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." She shook her head.

Right. Just because she was a physician didn't mean she could diagnose someone from the stands.

I grabbed my purse and rushed as fast as I could down the bleachers. Fuck boundaries. I needed to know, to see , that Sam was okay.