The Girlfriend Game by Sierra Hill
Twenty-Six
Kendall
“Why are you so nervous?” Zeke asks, taking my hand to interlock our fingers together, a sweet gesture to offer his support and calm reassurance, where I am an anxious wreck. “It’s just your family. It’s not that big of a deal.”
I shift in the passenger seat next to him in his Land Rover as we cross the Aurora Bridge from Fremont into Queen Anne en route to the venue where my parents’ anniversary party is being held.
I snort. “But it is a big deal. I’ve never brought a date to any family function before. You are going to be running in the opposite direction before the night is through.”
Zeke brings our joined hands to his lips and places a kiss on my knuckles, chuckling softly. A light sweat breaks out between the low-cut V of my dress.
“I think you’re over-exaggerating and it’ll be fine, babe. Although, I might have to haul you off to a dark corner and have my way with you. You’re looking awfully sexy in that dress tonight.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles that devastatingly handsome smile of his. I feel my belly swoop like it just jumped over the side of the bridge.
“If you’re trying to distract me, it’s not going to work,” I chastise, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek, my lips tingling from the bristle of his short beard. “It’s not so much about my sister or my parents you’ll meet. It’s that everyone there will be excited to meet you and want to bend your ear. Doesn’t that make you feel a little, I don’t know, under the microscope?”
Zeke shrugs, keeping an eye on the road ahead of us. “Not really. I’m used to it. I’ve been playing in front of thousands of spectators for years. It comes with the territory.”
He angles his head toward me as I give him the look that says, “This is totally different, and you’re doomed.”
“I’m just warning you now. Some of the members of my family have no boundaries. You’re going to be asked point blank when they can expect a wedding invitation.”
He nearly chokes on this bit of news, his wide eyes expanding as he whips his head toward me. “Seriously? They’ll actually ask that?”
I snicker, batting my eyelashes innocently and nodding. “Mmm-hmm. And that won’t be the only personal question. Next will be when we plan to have a family.”
A shocked noise expels from his throat, and I bite down on my lip to keep myself from laughing, even if it’s no laughing matter. I can guarantee at some point during the course of the evening, once the wine and champagne are flowing, one of my aunts or nosy cousins will blurt out exactly what they’re thinking.
“In their eyes, I’m somewhat of a spinster. Many of them are old-fashioned and very traditional in their expectations of family and procreation. They’ve wanted to see me married with kids for years. I think they’re getting nervous I’m cutting it close to the wire.”
“The wire? Jesus, Kendall,” he grumbles, appearing a bit shell-shocked now. “I didn’t realize that was…a spinster? You’re barely in your mid-thirties. You have plenty of time for all of that.”
The wave of his hand in conjunction with the dismissive “all that” makes my stomach knot. Despite knowing he doesn’t mean it to sound frivolous or unimportant, it’s just another sign that we are not on the same page when it comes to children.
Whether my family has a right to inquire about these matters is one thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that I do worry about reaching the end of my biological clock. That soon my body will shift its focus on something other than pregnancy and baby-making.
I tamp down the sadness this topic has dredged to the surface and stare out my window, watching as the bridge beams speed by. The clanging sounds the grates underneath the tires make help to out the negative thoughts running through my head. But not all of them.
Not the one that reminds me I haven’t shared my truest desire in the world with Zeke. The one dream I have to fulfill my happily-ever-after future.
“Maybe.”
I decide not to press the subject any further in hopes that my fears are unfounded, and my family won’t be foolish enough to bring up such a sensitive subject. Perhaps they’ll all be so enamored with Zeke’s presence that they’ll only want to talk basketball and not babies.
It’stimes like these when I wish I didn’t know my family as well as I do.
The first few introductions were a breeze. In fact, my dad, Pete, and Zeke hit it off immediately, with Brendan joining in as they began a lively discussion about fishing and basketball. Specifically, who Zeke felt was the best rookie prospect coming into the NBA this coming season.
I tried to stay involved, but not knowing any of the players they talked about, I gravitated toward Kerry, who was corralling the kids away from the dessert table and talking with our aunt Cheryl. The minute I step into their circle, Cheryl begins to gush over Zeke.
“Oh, my word, Kendall. That man of yours is one tall drink of water.” She fans her face with her hand, a cocktail in the other. By my estimation, this isn’t her first drink, and it will not be her last tonight. “And, my goodness, he is so virile and strong. I bet he knows how to fill that basket of yours, doesn’t he, sweetie?”
I try to hide my embarrassment over her comment, my eyes catching Kerry’s, who snickers with uncontrollable laughter and shakes her head.
“Cheryl,” I chide, widening my eyes with censure, but it seems to go over her head. She tilts her head in an innocent gesture.
“What? Isn’t that a basketball reference? I thought it was quite a good metaphor for…” she leans in, covering her mouth to whisper, “sex.”
Doing my best to avoid reaching out and strangling my aunt, I give her a tight smile. “Yes, well, he is very handsome, I’ll grant you that. But I won’t discuss my private affairs with you.”
She sniffs and waves a hand before patting my forearm patronizingly. “Oh, you’re no fun. You’ve always been too damn serious for your own good. Maybe that’s why it’s taken you so long to settle down.”
Kerry jumps in, likely noticing the way my hands ball into fists, ready to shove one down Aunt Cheryl’s throat. “Aunt Cheryl, we’re so glad you came tonight. Why don’t we go see if we can find your husband, shall we?”
Kerry wraps an arm around Cheryl’s shoulders and guides her toward where her husband was last seen with a group of other family members. Kerry turns over her shoulder and mouths, “Oh, my God!”
I’d cry if it wasn’t so funny, but breathe in a sigh of relief from her rescue attempt. I would have been mortified had Zeke been with me when Cheryl let her mouth run like that. Thankfully, when she met Zeke earlier, the only thing she did that caused embarrassment was groping him like a cougar.
As if reading my mind, Zeke turns and his gaze latches on to mine from across the ballroom. He says something over his shoulder to the group and heads in my direction. As he approaches, I smile at the lopsided grin he gives me and then I melt into his arms when he tugs me into his firm chest. Just the small gesture alone gives me the resolve I need to endure this torture brought on by well-meaning family. Plus, he smells damn good.
Like a blazing fire pit on winter’s eve. Woodsy and smoky.
“How you doing, babe? You look like you could use a drink.” When I jiggle the nearly full glass of champagne in my hand, he leans down and brushes his lips to my ear. “Or maybe a screaming orgasm.”
“I could go for that. Especially after talking to my aunt Cheryl.” I roll my eyes with a shake of my head.
Zeke scans the room and his eyes land on Kerry and Cheryl who have found my uncle Keith, who seems to be doing his best to ignore his wife.
“The lady wearing that gawdy necklace?” he asks, squishing his nose up distastefully.
“Yep, that’s the one. Same woman who nearly molested you earlier with her wandering hands. My God, that woman has no social tact whatsoever.”
Zeke laughs. “Meh, I’m used to it.”
He amends his comment when I give him a look of horror.
He tucks me into his body. “I just mean, some people, especially mature women, tend to get handsy when they meet me. Like they have license to touch me because I’m on TV. It’s a weird phenomenon.”
He gives me another little squeeze and tilts his head down to settle my nerves with his signature heart stopping grin. This beautiful man who has graced the covers of GQ and Sports Illustrated has me swooning with one single smile. The one that makes me feel like the only woman in his sight. The only woman he sees.
“Well, you do not need to take that crap from my family member. I can go take her down right now…” I try to punch the air with my arm, simultaneously swinging free from his hold, but he grips me by the wrist and twirls me back with a laugh.
“Hold on there, Mike Tyson. Don’t go beating up your auntie to defend my honor.” He kisses the top of my head sweetly. “I think I can hold my own. Even though she does deserve some humble pie after the shots she took at your expense.”
I tilt my head up to look him in the eyes. “Why? What exactly did she say?”
“Just a lot of outdated nonsense. Her opinion is that had you not spent so much time on school and your career, you’d be married with kids by now. Then she went on to explain that women have a shorter shelf life than men,” he says using air quotes, accompanied by an eye roll.
I grumble. “I told you that’s what the conversation would entail.”
“Well, I made her eat crow when I disagreed with her. I said, ‘No offense, Cheryl but Kendall has accumulated a bigger list of achievements of anyone in this room and she’s made decisions based on her own timetables, not the expectations of others. In fact, there shouldn’t be different expectations for men verses women. You wouldn’t say the same thing to me, would you?’”
That’s when it happens.
My heart expands to capacity inside my chest so that it literally explodes and bursts out of my body, floating around us on butterfly wings.
The poetry of this moment has me realizing something very unexpected.
I’ve unequivocally fallen for Zeke Forester.