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ISLA

I pull into a parking spot at the college campus and haul ass to my therapeutic recreation class, making it inside just as the professor comes in. I take out my laptop and my messages pop up and I see what Kai texted before he left for practice.

Isla

Okay, baby. I only have two classes today, so I should be home before five. Have a good practice.

Lecture starts and as I take notes on activities that pediatric cancer patients can do before procedures to help with nervousness, my messages blow up. Luckily, I have the volume off on my laptop or I would have been disrupting the professor. The first message is from Adriana.

Adriana

You couldn’t call me to tell me you got MARRIED.

Isla

How did you know? We did it this morning before class and his practice.

Adriana

LINK

I open the Instagram link and sure enough, my lovely husband posted the photo his mom took of us kissing at the courthouse.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kai.” I mumble, scrolling through the comments of people congratulating him and us and then the negative comments.

“He can do way better than her.”

“Talk about average.”

“Why is he settling for that? Come on, #7, slide into my DMs.”

Now, I knew being in a public relationship with Kai as a professional baseball player was going to bring some challenges, other women wanting him being one of them. Was I ready for it to hit full force the day we got married?

No, I wasn’t.

I text Adriana back.

Isla

So he is trying to give me a heart attack and we haven’t even been married for twenty-four hours yet.

Adriana

He’s your husband. That man would crawl on his hands and knees for you, Isla. Fuck the thirsty putas.

I exit out of our conversation and freeze.

Steve Jacobse n

Don’t do this to yourself, Isla.

Sighing, I click on his message and immediately I want to go back in time and not click it.

Steve

You’re fucking married.

We broke up a few weeks ago, Isla. And you’re fucking married.

Miss “I’m not ready for marriage.”

Okay, he’s mad. I can understand that. He’s allowed to be mad.

Steve

Wait, Malakai? As in your stepbrother, Malakai.

You fucking slut, were you fucking your brother while we were together?

I know I shouldn’t message him, but I don’t tolerate being called a slut.

Isla

First things first. Don’t you ever call me a slut. I was completely devoted to you while we were together. I never cheated and I don’t owe you any kind of explanation about anything.

Steve

You don’t want to explain anything because you’re a fucking whore who was going behind my back to fuck her brother. You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I spent two years with you.

Now I don’t feel so guilty about cheating on you at the lacrosse team party.

Then I came home and fucked you.

Oh, my god. His messages keep coming in and I exit out of the messages app because I’m already on the verge of tears.

I was completely loyal to him and he fucked someone else at least once while we were together. He called me the whore and the slut, and in actuality, he’s the cheating whore.

I feel sick.

The clock says it’s only eleven forty-five and I still have one more class to get through after this and it doesn’t start until two thirty.

I can do this.

Just mute him.

I shoot Kai a text and while I know he won’t get it until his practice is out, at least it will be there when he’s done.

Isla

So not only does the whole Coyotes fanbase know we’re married now—and people are being super nice about it. *Sarcasm* But Steve is now harassing me about being married. I still have one more class after this, and all I want to do is go home and cry under the covers.

What I don’t expect is for him to text back so quickly.

Kai

What did he say to you?

Isla

It’s not important. He’s just angry.

Kai

What. Did. He. Say. To. You?

I know he won’t leave it alone until I send them. I take a screenshot of all the messages and the new ones that keep rolling in and send it to Kai.

Three dots appear for a few moments, then disappear, then come back again and I can just imagine him struggling to find words for everything he just read.

I’ve completely missed this lecture and I hope I can talk Amanda, the PA, into giving me the PowerPoint so I won’t be completely fucked.

I put my laptop into sleep mode and put my stuff in my bag and head to the bathroom before hitting the cafe to eat my lunch.

My phone pings as I’m drying my hands and I pull it out as I leave the bathroom.

Kai

What’s his number, Princess?

Yeah, no. We aren’t doing that.

Kai

I just wanna talk to him.

We just wanna talk to him.

A picture comes in of Kai, Jackson, Andres, and Gael, all holding baseball bats. Definitely not giving them the number. I get sidetracked staring at Kai, shirtless in a pair of baseball pants, and for a second, I lose my train of thought.

Don’t objectify your husband, Isla.

Isla

It’s not fair sending me near nudes when I’m on campus away and from you for hours.

Kai

Don’t change the subject.

His number.

Isla

Yeah, sorry, baby. Not doing that.

Kai

What are you doing right now? Is he on campus?

Steve would be in the library studying and I’m across the campus heading to the cafe so there isn’t a risk of running into him. And it’s not like we have classes that overlap, so Kai has nothing to worry about.

Isla

He is on campus, but he’s far away from me. I’m heading to the cafe to eat my lunch before my last class.

I’ll be fine. I promise.

Kai

Don’t make me promises like that, Princess.

I’m almost done here and I’ll be heading home. If you need me, I’ll be there.

I still wanna talk to him.

My overprotective husband.

My last and longest class of the day is my child psychology class and I need to pass in order to get my degree.

So I turn off all my notifications and silence my phone and actually put it in my bag so I don’t get distracted.

The first half of the class is a lecture and then we get hit with a pop quiz.

Thank God I studied on Friday. I’m ready for this.

An hour and a half later, I’m walking to the car and getting ready to head home.

I fish my phone out of my bag and check the messages.

Instagram is a hot mess and one I don’t even want to attempt before getting home.

More messages from Steve and when I say more, try thirty-two of them.

Some messages from Adriana, Kai, and even our parents.

I just want to get home.

I’m starving and trying my damndest to not let my emotions get the best of me. After a day like today, I think a nice hot bath, an alcoholic beverage, and then my husband fucking my brains out is the way to go.

Isla

I’m out of class and heading home. I need food, a hot bath, some kind of alcohol and your cock.

In that order would be nice.

Kai

On it.

He sends me a picture of him in a pair of black shorts, nothing else, and cooking dinner.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

Well, that would be because his mom married my dad.

I don’t care how we got to this point. All that matters is that we have each other and if I were Steve, I’d lose my number before Kai does something like beating the shit out of him.

I can see Kai doing something stupid like that. It doesn’t help that his group of friends seems to be down for it as well. The four of them together means trouble. Let’s just nip this in the bud right now. I pull up Steve’s message thread, opting to just skip over all of the messages and type out.

Isla

Look, I’m telling you now it would just be a good idea to stop messaging me. We’re over; I’m married and that’s the end of it. If you don’t, Kai’s going to end up getting involved, and you really don’t want that.

Straightforward and to the point, if he chooses to keep this up, he can’t say that I didn’t warn him.

I pull into the parking garage and next to the motorcycle, grabbing my bag out of the passenger seat.

I lock up and head upstairs and the moment my key slides into the door, it unlocks from the other side.

“Welcome home, wife.” He takes my bags and puts them on the island, then hands me a glass. I take a sip and my eyes roll.

“Is this coconut rum and pineapple juice?” I take another long sip.

God, this is good.

“Mmhmm, and I made some grilled lemon chicken with lentil pasta and asparagus.”

“You are amazing.” I pull out one of the bar stools as he rounds the island to start plating the food. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You are you. I fell in love with the girl who wore my favorite baseball team’s shirt just to find some common ground with her new stepbrother to make him feel welcome.

The girl who did everything with me. Who would come crawling into my bed at night because she missed me.

If anything, I should ask what I did to deserve you. ”