Dear Roomie

by Kate Meader

  He marked that one, giving him three out of five on one row. “That’s exactly me. I’m just unusually polite to you out of respect for your age.”

  She snorted. “You’re nothing of the sort. You just put on a front with the press. And other players. And the world.” She patted his hand. “But here with the elderly and with my Kennedy, you can be yourself.”

  “Because inside this pro-athlete lives a cranky octogenarian who wishes he could spend his days eating Jell-o, playing bingo, and taking naps. I’ve found my lane.”

  “No wonder she likes you.”

  He perked up like Bucky when he heard the jangle of the leash. “You think so?”

  “You made her day when you turned up here for bingo last week.”

  He hadn’t dared hope. “You’d like if she spent more time here, I think. Stuck around for a bit.”

  “I don’t want to hold her back but I wouldn’t object to a regular delivery of smoothies. And you two suit each other.”

  He would never say he had a type when it came to women. Yet Kennedy defied type. She was so full of life and made him want more than was probably good for him. “Kennedy suits everybody. And she doesn’t want anything more than a fling. She’s made it clear.”

  “Kennedy doesn’t know what she wants. She’s been doing the same thing for so long she thinks it’s all there is. Stuck in a rut of traveling, moving, working, every waking moment spent on thinking about others—their errands, their dogs—so she doesn’t think too hard about herself. She’s relaxed around you.”

  “Down on your knees. Forty-three!”

  That sounded filthy. Someone actually took the trouble to come up with these rhymes.

  “I don’t know about that.” He decided to take a leap. “Do you think she might stay in Chicago?”

  Edie looked up. “Are you giving her good orgasms?”

  That he didn’t redden or freeze up was a testament to the fact he and Edie existed on the same wavelength. “You think that might be the key?”

  That made Edie chuckle. “If you’re good enough. I just want her to have something for herself. Some little spark of pleasure.” She grinned. “Or a big spurt of pleasure!”

  “I’m taking care of her,” he said quietly. Not just orgasms. He wanted to look after her yet she was the one looking after him. His home, his dog, his life.

  She eyed him, considered her next words. “You’re gonna have to fight for her, Reid.”

  His heart thundered like a galloping horse. Fighting was the one thing he was good at. To be better, to get into the AHL and out again, for the first line, to prove he was worth his spot on the Rebels.

  But would it be enough to make Kennedy happy? He wasn’t sunny or cheerful. He didn’t have any special skills. He worked hard on the ice. That was it. Hardly enough to win a woman like Kennedy who was a force of energy.

  “Bullseye. Five-oh. Fifty!”

  “Bingo!” Which was followed by loud groans of disappointment. A woman near the back raised her hand to claim victory.

  “Rats.” Edie put the used card to the back of her pile. “I’m going to need your help with something. You up for an adventure?”

  29

  Kennedy checked her to-do list and struck through what she’d already accomplished so far.

  Collect Cooper at 10:10, Sylvester at 10:20, Dylan at 10:30.

  Pick up Erik Jorgenson’s dry-cleaning and Ann Sather cinnamon rolls.

  Collect a case of wine for Dante Moretti, Cade Burnett’s husband, at the Wine Goddess store.

  December was a real boon to the dog-walking, and now, personal assistant business. No new clients, just taking care of the current ones. Everyone was so busy for the holidays, and Kennedy was the perfect Gal Friday to both players and WAGs. Harper Chase, the Rebels owner and CEO, had even asked her to provide a pet-match for her trio of daughters.

  She’d been so busy that she had missed one of her visits to Edie at Larkvale. Usually she went over every day, but this morning, when she stopped by, she learned that maybe she didn’t need to visit so often after all.

  She had a rival for Edie’s affections.

  Now she was back at the apartment for a quick bite to eat before jumping into her afternoon to-dos. A volunteer stint at the animal shelter and phone calls to make for Tate Kaminiski, who needed help setting up fun events for his kids while they were in town. (Divorce was tough and the man was kind of clueless, bless his heart.) Kennedy was thinking that Whirlyball might be the best option—who wouldn’t love bumper car basketball?

  Kennedy put her bag on the hallway table and walked into the living room.

  Or what had once been the living room. In the two hours since she’d been here, a new world had been terraformed made up of cushions, pillows, comforters, and sheets.

  “Hello?”

  She stepped closer to what looked like it might be the entrance. Sofa cushions shored up a tunnel, over which was draped a sheet. Another sheet had clothes pins holding it in place—he must have bought those. She pulled back the sheet and what she saw made her heart hitch.

  Man and best friend.

  Reid lay in a nest of cushions, a flashlight upturned to give an eerie spot on the blanketed roof, his e-reader reflecting a glow on his handsome face. By his side, Bucky was lying with his head tucked into Reid’s side. The perfect spot to be.

  Reid smiled at her. “You’re home.”

  Well, didn’t that catch somewhere in her chest. It had been a long time since she felt like she belonged somewhere.

  Don’t get carried away. It’s a blanket fort.

  “Are you receiving visitors?”

  Reid turned to Bucky. “What do you think? Can Kennedy come in?” Whatever Reid saw on the puppy’s face was enough to give her the nod. “We are.”

  She crawled inside, pulling the sheet door down behind her and closing the rest of the world off. Reid shifted slightly so there was a sliver of space beside him on the other side from Bucky.

  “So what’s going on?”

  “Since I recycled the TV box, I noticed he likes to sit in the hearth or the laundry cupboard. I figured he probably just craves warm, cave-like spaces.”

  Bucky lifted his head, aware they were talking about him.

  “And you thought you’d like to try it, too?”

  “Sometimes it’s nice to get away without packing a suitcase.”

  “It sure is.” As she leaned back, Reid rearranged some pillows to support her head. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. How’s your morning gone?”

  “Good. I walked Gunnar Bond’s dog, Cooper for the first time as well as a couple of my regulars. And Harper Chase asked me to stop by and talk about doing a yoga class for the WAGs. Like a brunch n’ stretch. We’re calling it Downward Dog and Daiquiris. We’re going to do it between Christmas and New Year.” Before she left for good. She rushed on, not wanting to dwell on it. “I checked in with Edie. Turns out she’s been busy.”

  “Yeah?” His breath was warm against her temple.

  She lifted her head. “I can’t believe you took her ice-skating without me!”

  “She said you’ve been putting her off because you’re, in her words, ‘a coward.’ And it was just a quick circuit of the Rebels practice rink.”

  “A Foreman-Durand sandwich is how she described it, then “the three-way of her dreams” in the next breath. Please tell me someone filmed it.”

  He extracted his phone from his pocket and after a few seconds, played the video of Edie being squired around the Rebels rink in the safe hands of Cal and Reid. A crowd cheered off-camera and Kennedy’s heart squeezed at the happy memory Reid had created.

  If it was happy, then why did she feel teary?

  “Ma belle, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me for not clearing it with you first?”

  “No. Maybe. Edie’s a grown woman and it’s probably better I’m not involved. This bucket list business freaks me out. That’s what people do when they think they’re going t
o go soon.” She rubbed her eyes and faced him. “You’ve probably figured out by now that I don’t have a lot of people.”

  “It’s hard to make connections if you move around so much.”

  “So I have only myself to blame?”

  He admonished her with a look that said they were better than that. “That’s not what I meant. I know a little about it. This is the fourth city I’ve lived in for the last five years, but that’s largely down to me. I’m a dick.”

  She burst out laughing. “But you’re a dick with talent. With a talented dick.”

  He doffed an imaginary cap, which made her laugh again. God, she loved how droll he was.

  “My talent—on the ice—isn’t enough to keep me on any team. Which means I really should try harder to be nice to my teammates, to the management, to the press, to the fans. A team might be more likely to keep me around if I was easier to get along with but I’m usually suspicious of people. Of what they want from me.”

  More lessons from Henri, no doubt. “People just want to connect with you, Reid. It’s not rocket science.”

  He squeezed her hand against his chest. “So connect with me.”

  She brushed her mouth against his. “How’s that?”

  “You can do much better.”

  She applied more pressure, her lips curving into a smile. “Bon?”

  He closed his eyes and slanted his lips over hers. “Tres bon,” he whispered. They kissed for a while, another perfect moment in the blanketed dark, crafting cozy healing with a kiss.

  Her eyes felt wet. “God, I’m ridiculous.”

  “You’re many things, but ridiculous isn’t one of them. You endured a heartbreaking tragedy. And today, you were reminded of that loss when you thought Edie might be hurt. I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t you dare apologize!”

  “Do you know how rare this is? Take the win, Coffee Shop Girl.”

  That made her laugh. And then it made her kiss. Perhaps saying sorry was the perfect seduction.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her eyelids, then her nose. “So sorry.” He whispered his lips over her cheekbone, down to her jaw, then a brush at the corner of her mouth. “Sorrier than I could ever be.”

  He was commiserating with her over so much more than not running Edie ice-skating jaunt by her first, and she adored him for it. Her lips found his and applied a sweet, sultry pressure. The tightness in her chest eased slightly in this precious space with Reid, who was so solid, serious, and generous.

  “Thank you for spending time with her. It’s sweet of you.”

  “It’s not sweet. I’m determined to become a bingo champion.”

  Reid playing bingo with the oldsters was adorable. “Always the competitor.”

  “And when you’re gone, I’ll continue to visit her. If that’s okay with you.”

  When you’re gone. She didn’t have time to process the words—the pain of them—because he was still talking.

  “Unless … you’ve thought about staying longer. It seems a shame to disappoint all your doggie clients, old and new. And maybe this yoga thing with the WAGs could turn into something. People need you.”

  In the half-dark, she watched his eyes fixed on hers. What was he asking? That she stay with him as his roommate, employee, or something else? It would be so easy to nudge her way into this life that didn’t really belong to her. Enjoy the comfort he offered. The peace inside these sheet walls.

  But Reid could be on a different team next year, or he could get tired of her, and she would have involved herself for nothing.

  The hardest things in her life had already happened to her—or so she had thought. Wrapped in the safety of Reid’s arms, she worried that relaxing her guard would put her in danger of feeling so deep all over again. Attachment is the root of all suffering. Right?

  “I like my life. I like making my own way, being my own boss, deciding my own destiny.”

  “You don’t have to travel halfway around the world to do any of that. All that could be achieved right here, except you’d have a network of people to rely on. A team on your side. A home, employment, security. Where were you living before here?”

  She started at the abrupt query. “Before?”

  “I saw your suitcase in your trunk that day at the beach. Where were you staying before here?”

  “My car.”

  Shocked blue eyes met hers. “Ken.”

  “I’d been living at Edie’s place but her son sold it and they changed the locks. Every roommate lead had dried up but I was ever hopeful—and look, it worked out. I’ve stayed in worse places.”

  “Than your car?”

  She’d slept in sketchy hostels, in dark doorways, on foreign beaches. She knew what it was like to be alone, but she always made sure it was her choice. It was safer that way.

  “I always manage, Reid.”

  “By putting yourself in danger? Does Edie know about this?”

  “No, and she won’t.”

  “Ken—”

  She planted a kiss on his lips because as much as she loved listening to Reid, she didn’t want anything to ruin their final days together. In his arms, in this blanket fort, in this temporary life, she felt safe but Walt Whitman knew the score.

  However sheltered the port,

  However calm the waters,

  You shall not anchor there.

  The road was calling, and no matter how wonderful this felt in the moment, her heart might not survive a lengthier stay.

  30

  Reid parked the car about a block from the restaurant and checked his watch. Ten minutes early.

  The occupant of the passenger seat wore a sexy red dress she’d borrowed from someone. Tara, she said. Reid would have bought her a dress if she needed it, but knowing Kennedy she wouldn’t take a gift.

  Reid didn’t think he’d ever get tired of how the material bunched up, giving him a flash of strong, well-toned, oh-so-sexy leg. He reached over and ran a hand under the hem.

  “We’re going to be late.”

  “Non.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Of course Reid would never be late, that eyebrow arch said.

  “I’m sorry in advance if he’s rude. He’s kind of abrupt.”

  “I’m a whizz at abrupt.” Her gorgeous grin instantly relaxed him.

  His phone vibrated with a text from Bast. We’re here! Where the hell are you, bro?

  One-upped him by getting here early. “Let’s go.”

  “Reid.” She took his hand and returned it to where it had lain under her skirt, only now she moved it up, up, up until it reached—fuck.

  “Ken.”

  “I forgot to do laundry.” She moved his hand until he finally realized the gift she was giving him.

  “You’re wet. So fucking wet.”

  She curled a hand around his jaw and brushed her lips over this. “Just remember that this is waiting for you when you get home.” Home. His hand positively trembled at the use of the word. It wasn’t fair, though, because she would be gone soon.

  Could you call a place home if the heart of it was ripped out?

  “I might need it sooner.” He ran a finger through her, turning it so the callus could have the best impact.

  “Just let me know. You need a quickie in the restroom and I’ll be there,” she whispered against his lips, her eyes shutting on the pleasure he was dealing.

  His phone buzzed again and she smiled. “Let’s do this.”

  Smith & Jones was one of those fancy restaurants where the servings were so small that Reid knew he wouldn’t be breaking any of his diet rules tonight. Bast knew the sister-in-law of the chef, a former Marine, so they had a great table in a private alcove.

  “Reid, baby!” Nadine, Henri’s third wife, jumped up on seeing him and drew him into a tight hug. “You look so good.” Nadine was pretty great and deserved a medal for her efforts in the face of his father’s crankiness.

  “Nadine, don’t mollycoddle him.” Yep, there it is.
>
  “I haven’t seen him for months. He couldn’t even come home for Thanksgiving.”

  “I had a game.”

  She rubbed his jaw. “Your brother made it. And I can still miss you, can’t I? Your father’s in a bad mood. He had an argument with the Uber driver.”

  Sounded about right. “Dad.” He put out his hand because that was how they always greeted each other. His father shook it wordlessly.

  “This is Kennedy. My—”

  “Roommate!” Nadine kissed Kennedy on both cheeks. “Bast’s been telling us all about you.”

  The ever-informative Bast sat at the table and raised a beer in Reid’s direction. Big mouth.

  Roommate was as adequate a description as any. She wasn’t his girlfriend, though he was about 99.99 percent sure he would jump at the chance to call her that if he thought it would work.

  He wanted her to stay in Chicago with him and Bucky. It was as simple as that.

  “Welcome to Chicago!” Kennedy took it upon herself to shake Henri’s hand, surprising him with her forthrightness. “How’s your hotel? Do you have a good view of the city or the river?”

  Nadine slid Reid a shrewd look, the one that mothers—and stepmothers—everywhere had graduated with honors in.

  “It’s lovely. We can see the Wrigley Building and part of Michigan Avenue. Very pretty at night. Now sit, sit! Let’s get some drinks in to celebrate being together with our boys—and Kennedy.”

  Bast stood to hug Kennedy but first he gestured at his outfit. “French blue, Kennedy. What do you think?”

  “Matches your eyes, handsome.”

  As Bast wrapped Kennedy in a tight embrace, he grinned at Reid over her shoulder. “Kennedy chose my shirt.”

  “Just like Mom used to,” Reid said.

  Nadine gestured to them all to sit. “Kennedy, I hear you’re looking after Reid’s dog?”

  “I am. But he and Reid get plenty of quality time together as well. They’re such a cute duo.”

  Henri scowled. “This is the mutt you risked your career to rescue? You kept it?” He took another look at Kennedy, as if only now realizing her part in all this. Perhaps he recognized her from the video. His father rarely dwelled on details that didn’t feed his narrative.