12. Ryan
12
RYAN
I toweled off from the shower with my heart in my ears. Jesus Christ. Just when I thought I’d adjusted to my new role, Audrey hit me with this . I’d walked into morning meeting expecting a typical day. Before I could gear up, she’d pulled me, Ethan, and Dustin aside. Her cat-ate-the-canary grin had told me something was coming.
I hadn’t imagined this would be her request.
“Stop! Dammit, Molls.” Ethan’s laughed shout spun me around. “You can’t towel dry your hair, bro. It makes you look like a poodle.”
I threw the towel at him. Nica’s gentle teasing came back to me. “What am I supposed to do?”
He handed me a comb. “Comb it out. Simsy, give him your stuff. Give it a light touch and leave it damp for now. You don’t have time to blow-dry. Trust me.”
Dustin lobbed a jar of sculpting paste at me. I ran it through my hair and yanked the comb until there were no more tangles. My hair was too wet to stay back, but at least it fell straight. When the guys nodded, I stepped into the navy sweatpants Audrey had gifted us this morning and pulled on a black muscle tee. “Can I wear my glasses?” I asked with an eye roll.
“Oh, yeah,” Dustin said. “Your new fan page will love that.”
“My new what?” I froze mid-stride.
He laughed. “Didn’t you know you’ve got a fan page? Our Boy Molloy. Corny as fuck if you ask me.”
“Jesus, this is my nightmare.” I reached to ruffle my hair.
Ethan slapped my hand away. “Aww, come on. Audrey hasn’t been this excited all year. Let’s just have some fun for her sake.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Certainly not when Audrey beamed as the three of us walked out into the hallway. “I know this is silly, guys, but I think it’ll be a huge hit. Thank you so much.”
“Anything for you, Auds. Hey. Who let you in?” Ethan winked at his wife, Stella, who stood to the side with Jazzlynne, Dustin’s girlfriend.
“Snuck in. We couldn’t miss the show,” she replied as we all headed toward the gym.
I filed in last. Audrey was already talking to the small crowd assembled there. She was clearly working hard to suppress laughter as she said, “… just wanted you to have a better understanding of our guys’ fitness levels.”
Stella and Jazzlynne didn’t bother to hide their giggles. I swallowed another groan and leaned against the wall. While Dustin and Ethan spread out, I looked around at our audience.
Fuck. Of fucking course, but still. Fuck! My stomach hit the floor the second I spotted Nica. She had her attention on Audrey like the rest of the reporters. As soon as Audrey stopped talking, though, those blue-gray eyes swept the room—and caught instantly on me.
I resisted the urge to ruffle my hair while I watched her eyes widen and her lips fall open. Damn my pulse for refusing to chill. Damn the way I couldn’t quit replaying her kiss despite vowing it never happened. And damn the way she pinned me with that look.
Well. It was more than a look. Ms. Nica Solance was most definitely checking me out.
I held her gaze and refused to budge from the wall. She looked around and took half a step toward me, but “Push It” began to play through the speakers. Audrey let out an excited yelp, and Dustin started us off with a box jump.
He talked to the reporters while he went through a short workout routine that included burpees and battle rope. Although he ostensibly explained the routine, I paid close attention to the way he smiled and winked at key moments. This was all a flirt. That was the whole point, as Audrey had explained to me. Photo ops showing us being strong, sweaty dudes in the gym.
Dustin and Ethan had laughed at this proposed objectification. I’d not been as keen, but Audrey said it was good for my image. The guys assured me it would be a goof, all good fun. Dustin was clearly enjoying himself, but the whole thing had impostor syndrome wrapping its fingers around my neck again.
Me? Flirt? Flex? Be in the spotlight? Since when?
I glanced at Audrey, Stella, and Jazzlynne. They stood holding each other’s arms, pink-cheeked and grinning. I thought about Quinn, about all he was going through right now, and I took a deep breath.
You can do this.
Dustin finished his set on the floor. He held onto the weight rack above his head, lifted himself off the ground until just his shoulders supported him, and did bicycle crunches without lowering down.
Every female in the room whooped.
He collapsed on his back, laughing. “Thank you, thank you,” he said as he jumped to his feet and pointed at Ethan.
The music changed to Usher’s “Yeah!”. Ethan palmed his face. “I told Audrey to choose whatever song she wanted for this.” He picked up the jump rope, listened for a moment, and then began to jump.
Except, of course, that we called him Twinkle Toes for a reason. No one on the team had dance moves like Ethan Rivera. He made jumping rope look like something else entirely with the way he moved to the music. And, again, all the women cheered.
Ethan dropped the rope and accepted a towel from Stella when the song ended. Like Dustin had done for him, it was his turn to pass the spotlight.
Right over to me.
“Pony” started to play. I twisted my lips and sucked in a breath. Both of them had jumped right into their routine with no introduction. I didn’t want to jump into anything, but I knew I would just be stalling if I tried to talk. So, I pushed my glasses up my nose and walked out into a plank.
Pushups. Just do pushups to the music. I listened for a moment to get the beat and began, but after about five reps, Ethan called out to me. “Come on, Molls. Show us what you got.”
At least he didn’t call me Sieve.
“Fuck it,” I whispered under my breath. “Somebody take these,” I shouted over the music as I whipped off the glasses and held them out in front of me. They disappeared from my hand in a blink.
Dropping down to my forearms, I slid backward until my elbows were nearly extended, then slid forward again and piked my ass in the air to do another pushup. Rolling back to my starting position, I lowered down and slid first to the left, then to the right, in time to the music. From there I did a couple of one-armed pushups, then one-legged reps on each side before returning to plank.
“Am I done?” I shouted, my gaze on the ground. “Or do you want more?”
“More,” came the unanimous shout.
I did it all again.
Thank god the music ended. I walked my feet to my hands and stood up slowly. My face was hot from exertion, but I realized I was grinning. I pushed my hair away while they applauded.
Audrey thanked the reporters for coming while Stella and Jazzlynne walked us back to the locker room to get our stuff. The women could not stop laughing and replaying the entire thing.
“Ryan, it’s too bad you’re single, buddy,” Dustin said, pulling Jazzlynne closer to him. “All that work you just put in and no reward?”
“I thought the reward was making Audrey happy.”
“Oh, it was. One of them.” He kissed Jazzlynne’s cheek and made her giggle.
The guys grabbed their stuff and were off quick with their partners. I pulled on a hoodie and shouldered my duffel bag. On the way out, I touched the bridge of my nose and remembered that I had ditched my glasses in the gym. I hurried out of the locker room, wondering where I’d left them and who’d taken them from me.
There was no need to ponder. As soon as I stepped into the hallway, my glasses were waiting for me—perched on Nica’s nose. She leaned against the wall, wearing a cheeky smirk. Her dark hair peeked out from under a very familiar-looking beanie.
“Hey. Great road trip. Four in a row. Crushing it.”
Her words momentarily distracted me. I felt a pleased smile tug my lips. “Why, thank you.”
“Where does Henrik stay when you’re gone? Ooh, or does he travel with you?”
“He stays with the neighbor. May I have my glasses back?”
“Maybe. Do they make me look smarter?”
“You are smart. They dwarf your head.”
“They’re making me dizzy.” She pulled them off, blinked hard, and stepped forward to slip them into my hand. “Can you see without them?” she asked while I pushed them on.
“Yeah, but not far away.”
“How do you play hockey, then?”
“Contacts, of course. I just don’t like them as much. Besides, I think these suit my face.”
Her gaze swept over me. “They do.”
“Should’ve known you stole them. Should’ve known you’d be trespassing again.”
“You really should’ve. On both counts.”
“Nice hat.”
“Thanks. It’s new.”
We traded a glance.
Good god, the ache in my chest would not quit. She gave me a buzz without doing a damn thing, and I couldn’t sort out why. No logic could explain why I’d wanted to punch the air at the sight of her waiting here. Why I loved the idea of her quietly snatching my glasses, so quick that no one noticed. Why a big-mouthed social media personality made my mouth fucking water.
“Can I ask a few questions? Not a full interview. Just a little?”
I groaned. “More torture? Wasn’t that enough for today?”
Her smile stretched wide. The delight on her face made me warm all over. “That was amazing. Content gold.”
“It was all Audrey’s idea.”
“Mm, I figured you weren’t the one to suggest it.”
I laughed.
“Was it difficult?”
“Nah. Challenging, I guess, but not too draining. Not as draining as the mental load of performing for an audience.”
“Oh, such a flex. ‘No big deal. Just three straight minutes of hard-as-hell pushups. Day’s work, really.’”
“It’s not a day’s work. A day’s work is way more demanding than that. Pushups are easy.”
“Can you do the thing Simmons did?”
I nodded.
“Can you jump rope like Rivera?”
“Mm, not with as much rhythm.”
“What else can you do, Goalie?”
“I mean, everything? I bench press around a hundred fifty, so… more than you.”
Her brows went up. “You can bench press me?”
“Easily. I could do those pushups with you on my back.”
Her eyes lit up. “I would pay you to show me that.”
The next thing I knew, I was pushing open the gym door and motioning her inside. A small part of my brain asked what the hell I was doing. The rest of me didn’t give a fuck.
Nica let out a little squeal and hurried to follow. “Ohmygod, are you really going to?”
“Once.” I tugged off my hoodie and walked out to plank. “Hurry up.”
But Nica didn’t move. “Um, what should I do? Or how do I, um… mount you?”
I laughed so hard, I had to drop to the mat. Her giggles hit my ears, so I looked up to where she stood over me. “Don’t make me laugh, please. I said I could do it, but not if I’ve got a cramp.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“Just, I don’t know. Sit on my back.” I pushed up again.
“Like Yoda on Luke?”
Right back to the floor. “Dammit,” I wheezed. “Forget this.”
“No! I have to see! I’ll be good. I promise.”
I took a few deep breaths and resumed plank. She kicked off her shoes and padded toward me. After a moment’s hesitation, her hands planted on my shoulders. Nica threw one leg over my back and held me tight as she steadied herself.
“You good?” I grunted.
“Oh, yeah.”
I took a deep breath and lowered down. This wasn’t easy. She wasn’t terribly heavy, but her center of gravity wobbled with my movement. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna fall,” she yelped.
“Just hold on,” I gritted out.
Suddenly, her arms hugged my neck—like Yoda on Luke. Her breath tickled my ear, and it took every ounce of discipline to push us back up. Nica’s feet touched the ground. I held still while she climbed off. My arms shook, breath coming hard.
Breathing wasn’t the only thing that was hard.
Her sweet scent lingered in my nose while I jumped to my feet, facing away from her while I cooled off.
“Wow,” she whispered behind me.
With a quick glance at my sweats to make sure I was decent, I turned and strolled as casually as I could for the hoodie. “Satisfied?”
“Impressed is a better word. How much do I owe you?”
“Ten.”
“Ten dollars?”
“Ten digits. Please give me your phone number, Nica Solance.”
I noticed how she blinked every time I used her name. It told me she was either easily startled or very pleased. And this woman didn’t seem startled by much.
“Well, if you insist,” she drawled.
“Afraid I do. I’ll need it to contact you for our next meeting.” I hid a grin that would’ve told her that was bullshit. It was, of course. I could’ve had Audrey schedule for us, but I wanted her number in my phone.
Nica winced but hid it fast. “Right. Get ready.”
I keyed in the numbers and texted her, “hi.” She tapped the screen, typed, and then looked up at me. “Big mistake, buddy. Now I’ve got yours, too.”
“Don’t think this means you can text me questions whenever you want.”
“Don’t think this means I won’t try.”
I chuckled and held the door open for her. Nica looked at it but hesitated. She toyed with her purse and cut her gaze to me.
“What is it?”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Nod.
“Do you hate me, Ryan Molloy? Do you hate that I’m doing this interview?”
I exhaled hard and pushed my hair back, careful not to ruffle it. Slowly, I strode to where she stood and looked down at her. “I hate the interview because I don’t like interviews. But I don’t hate that you’re the one doing it, no. And, no, Nica. I do not hate you.”
I think I like you. Way more than I should. But I can’t really tell because there are logistical hurdles between us. Plus, you’re so damn guarded that half the time, I feel like I’m talking to a person. The other half feels like I’m talking to a personality .
But my god. You are captivating.
Captivating was the right word. She was beautiful in an unusual way. Almost elfish features that didn’t quite work with the glamorous look she usually rocked. Today, she was more subtle—more real. But her appearance wasn’t what hooked me. I fucking loved her duality. The way she could flip between riling up thousands of followers and practically hiding in plain sight. She was funny and observant. Confident and cautious. For all those reasons, plus an indescribable animal instinct, she captivated me.
And by captivated, I meant she turned me on something wicked. By captivated, I meant I wanted her to rip my clothes off and mark me with her fucking teeth. By captivated, I meant I wanted to taste every?—
“Ryan?”
I blinked. “Hm?”
She made a face. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me—uhh, for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever people say when they mean eat as in devour—shit, no, I meant like… you know what I meant.”
“I do.”
Dear god, her face was crimson. “You do? W-want to eat me?”
I laughed despite the hell yes my brain shouted in reply. “I know what you meant.”
Her lips parted in a perfectly nauseous look. “Oh. Good. I’m… not at all humiliated right now. It’s just really, really hot in here.”
“Best get out, then.”
I walked her to her car in silence. She opened the driver’s door and finally looked up at me. “You promise you don’t hate me? It would be fair if you did. A little, at least.”
“Why? Because you embarrassed the shit out of me at our first meeting?”
“You were the one ordering sex drinks!”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about this, but I needed her to understand. “Not then. When you disappeared.”
“I… embarrassed you? You said it was up to me.”
“I did, and I meant it. But I didn’t expect you to vanish without at least a no. Doesn’t stroke the ego to sit with your door open for over an hour, hoping the hot girl you had the balls to hit on wants you, too, only to come to the realization that she didn’t. Embarrassed is the right word, yeah.”
I shrugged one shoulder and waited for her reply. Nica’s brow furrowed. A little frown creased her mouth. “I’m so confused.”
“Don’t see what’s mystifying there.”
She held up her fingers to tick items off. “One, I’m not hot. Two, I figured you’d have forgotten about me and moved on by the next day. Three, I’m sick with regret that I made you feel that way. And… and four.”
Blue-gray eyes lifted to me. She wet her lips. “I did want you.”
But her confession meant nothing in that moment. I ticked off my answers, mirroring her. “One, shut up, you know you are. Two, I told you that wasn’t my MO. Three, good. Think about that next time you ghost someone. And four, then you should’ve come to my room. But you didn’t, and fine. It’s past. I don’t hate you. We’re forgetting it and moving on.”
Her lips pressed in a thin line. At last, she nodded. “Okay. Text me about the next meeting. Tell Henrik I said hi. Bye, Ryan.”
It was another instance of wondering what the hell she was thinking. Of her guard being so high that I couldn’t guess what she held back—but I was sure she was holding back. Not that I wasn’t. Everything I’d just said sounded sensible and right. Everything I’d just said belied the rush she gave me.
“Bye, Nica,” I echoed as she slid into her car and shut the door.