The Matchmaker's Curse

Chapter 8

Thank you for reading enjoy

Chapter 8

Devin

We didn't win. No surprise there. Beating the Bradford's was a long shot but damn that would have been a nice way to end the night. Instead we're licking our wounds going out to the place we always go, win or lose.

Kenna has joined us as well as Raleigh and Tabitha. Ty, happy to show the girls a good time, got the private bar area for us and since we're upstairs, we have the ability to see that the Bradford's have come here as well sitting directly across from us upstairs. The girls are flipping out.

Doing the same thing with the same people, at the same bar for the last five years it's gotten predictable. Especially when Kenna comes to town. The looks I'm getting from the guys tonight are saying the same thing as always- "why am I not tapping that?"

The guys on the team hang out together off season or on. We work out, we stick close and keep our bond strong. That's what the coach wants. That's what he gets. And because the coach is Tyson 's dad, because he's Kenna's dad, she's one of us. All the players know her, yet they still ask the same question.

"Why am I not tapping that?"

It's the same answer as yesterday, the day before that, last week, last year even. Kennais my best friend. We clicked the first time we met and we have been friends ever since. She knows everything about me just like I know everything about her. I love her, she's absolutely perfect and precious to me.

I couldn't "tap that" because she is so important to me. She isn't the "tapping" kind. She's not the one night stand kind and she isn't the type of girl that I would want to have only one night with. She's the kind of girl you bring home to meet your parents, you proudly show off and introduce to everyone and anyone you know. She is the one you think about first thing, when you wake up and last thing, when you go to bed. She's special. She's perfect.

Kenna can wear old ripped jeans and a T-shirt with no makeup to ballgame and be comfortable. She can just as easily wear high heels and a sequined gown and look like she's made for it. The woman came from a mold that only made one. Then that mold was broken.

There's no one else in the world like her. She is warm and sweet, sassy and sarcastic. She loves football and fine wine, art museums and country bars. She will go camping with us for the weekend and then spend the next at the spa with her girlfriends. She's perfectly happy staying home watching football and eating pizza instead of going to some red carpet event and getting all dolled up. I don't think any of these guys understand her.

I can't say I understand her all the time but I try.

She's in the mood for a little cuddle time tonight. She wants my attention but she doesn't want to be hassled. If she wants my attention, that's what she is getting. I'm all too happy to oblige her. I've missed her the last couple weeks.

Even if I've talked to her every day. Even if I know all there is to know about her. I miss seeing her face, I miss the way she curls against me in her sleep, I miss watching her add a little coffee to her sugar in the morning. I miss the way she talks to herself as she cooks. I miss her.

Swaying to the music, my hands slide up and down Kenna's back as I sing softly against her head. I feel the smile on her face against my shoulder and just keep going. She likes this as much as I do.

Humming along, and lost in my thoughts, I don't notice that the music has changed and we continue to sway slowly to our own beat as the tempo changes and the rhythm pulses with the lights to a new song. Feeling the swat of a meaty paw on my back, I turn to see the guys grinning at me.