15. Ryder
15
Ryder
I stand under the shower heads letting the hard pulse of the spray beat against my skin. We’ve clenched another game in Dallas, and just a couple hours ago the American Airlines Center was alive with excitement, the crowd roaring amidst the aroma of popcorn, pretzels and beer. I’m so tired. Games are fast-paced and exhausting, and we barely took the win this time. It’s a little disturbing if I’m honest with myself. I’d thought this one was a sure deal, but if anything, it was a humbling experience.
I shake my head and groan at the tension across my back and legs. We’ve been running our plays, but there’s a hitch in our game and I can’t put my finger on it. Between this and missing Everly, I’m in a foul mood and in no hurry to go home. After I turned her down at my apartment, I tried checking in a few times by text, but it wasn’t the same. She’s clearly trying to move on, and I need to let her.
I take my time towelling off and then head to the office to check some of the replays from our more recent games, while my teammates start to file out. Forty-five minutes later I call it a night and realize I’m the last one here. Everyone is gone.
Moving in slow motion and humming a tune I’ve heard on the radio the last few weeks, I make my way through the well-trodden hallways of the American Airlines Center, pathways that have become my second home these last few years. I swing by a block off offices and realize I’m not the only one here when I spot a door open across the way. Stepping up, I poke my head in to call out a hello, and for a moment I speculate that someone must have left the light on by accident because the room appears empty. I reach out to turn off the light when I hear soft snores emitting from my left, and that’s when I spot her, the object of my affection.
Everly is seated on a rolling chair, her upper body sprawled across her desk in front of an open laptop, lashes splayed over smooth perfect cheeks and utter exhaustion showing in the circles under her eyes. Her form looks delicate against the backdrop of the room.
Being in the same place with her sends my pulse soaring, and something akin to jubilation riots inside while part of me can’t stop analysing her posture. I hate to wake her, but at the rate she’s going I’m really not sure she’ll wake anytime soon on her own, and the building is empty. There’s no one left to walk her to her car or see her home. Soft snores issue lightly as she breathes. Another glance around the room proves it to be empty. She’s alone.
Softly, I move toward her with a mix of caution and eagerness, my steps almost silent against the floor. Reaching out, my hand hovering just over her shoulder for a moment before I gently brush my fingers against her arm revelling in the connection, savouring it and storing the memory away.
“Everly,” I murmur, “are you alright?”
The quiet snores suddenly cease and when she opens her eyes, her expression is one of surprise. She shakes her head in confusion, so I squat down beside her, putting our faces almost level and keep my voice low.
“What are you still doing here? Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah.” She rubs at her eyes and then gives a little stretch that has her breasts popping up to the sky and her back arching in a way that can drive a man wild. She takes in a deep breath and then brushes her hair back with her fingers as she answers.
“I was just busy doing a little editing and clean up,” she replies, wiping the remaining sleep from her eyes. “I’ve been more tired than usual, so I thought I’d catch a little cat nap before heading to my car. What time is it?”
I peer at her face and notice she’s looking a little peaked, and a frisson of worry shoots through me.
“It’s after midnight. Everyone’s gone.”
“What?!” She whips her head around until she spots her phone near the laptop and seizes it. “Oh my God! …Aunt Sharon must be asleep. She hasn’t texted or called. Oh man.” She plants a hand on her chest and sags back into her chair in relief. “Whew! I’ll just text her really quick to let her know I’m fine and on my way. I would hate for her to wake up and worry about me.”
I give her a minute to settle that and stand up when she shoves back from her desk.
“You sure you’re good?” I ask again for confirmation.
“Yeah,” She nods her head. “I just needed a nap. I’m fine.”
I poke my head back into the hall. It’s silent. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see you home.” I wait on bated breath, not entirely sure if any help from my end will be appreciated, but desperate to do something to find a way to take care of her. Thankfully, she doesn’t protest.
“To my car would be best,” she says. I watch as she organizes a few things and packs up the laptop before we make our way out of the office. Halfway down the hall she comes to a stop with her hand up to her nose.
“Is that popcorn?”
I glance around in confusion, but the halls are empty.
“You mean the smell? I think it’s a little bit of everything. I like to call it the sweet aroma of victory.” I throw her a wink, but then realize she’s scrunched her eyes tightly closed and seems to be in pain.
“Hey, hey.” I bend low and stroke my hands gently up over her shoulders and nape. “Everly, you’re starting to worry me. Tell me what’s going on, honey. Let me help you here.” I watch as she pulls her shirt up to breathe through, and she squints her eyes open for a minute before shaking her head violently.
“Nope!” she yelps and then she’s scurrying down the hall like a bat out of hell while gasping for air in short huffs. Keeping up with her is nothing, but everything inside of me is starting to panic.
“Everly! What’s going on?”
A few seconds later she slams into the ladies’ room, and I stop just short of charging right in behind her. After a moment of indecision, I settle for propping the door open a few inches. I can’t see anything, but there’s no mistaking the sound of retching. Shit! She’s seriously ill. I visually search the halls, a hand rubbing at my brow absent-mindedly. There’s got to be something I can do . When she quiets down, I hear a toilet flush, so I drop my duffle bag and pull out the water bottle I carry inside.
“Everly? I’m coming in, okay?” There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let her go through this alone, and I poke my head in tentatively when there’s no response. Shuffling forward, I snag some paper towels near the sinks and walk softly toward the closer stalls until I spot her sitting on the ground, tears on her face.
Fuck!
“Hey, baby,” I croon at her. “How you doing there?” I move both of our bags aside and then opt for toilet tissues to blot at her face. They’re softer, and she looks so delicate right now. Seeing her tears rips me up inside. Her head is tilted back against the metal wall of the stall, and her eyes are shut. So, I stay there, crooning at her, gently blotting her skin until she raises her lids to stare at me.
Even here, sitting on the floor of a public bathroom, there’s something magic about her. Something so…
“Velvet and gold,” I murmur to myself as I let my eyes sweep down over her full lips, perfectly shaped, and then further down to all her gorgeous curves. I want her. I always want her, but I bring my eyes back to hers now, concern outweighing everything else.
“Thank you,” she says as she shifts to stand. I back away instantly to make room, a hand held out ready to support her. When she reaches for her bag, I quickly snatch it up along with mine.
“I got this.” She holds my gaze but must be feeling pretty low, because she just nods her head and accepts the water bottle I hold out. After a drink, she moves to the sink where she rinses her face before taking up the tissues I offer.
When we make it back to the hallway, she brings her shirt back up to her nose and grimaces before turning stoically toward the exit.
“Everly?” I wait until she glances my way before continuing. “Do you need a doctor?” She heaves a little sigh and then shrugs.
“My stomach’s been bothering me all week… I thought it was better, which is why I came into work, but… I guess not. For some reason, strong smells really get to me right now.”
I just clench my fist in silence, wanting to push the matter, wanting to make her get help. I hate these stupid boundaries I’ve made. I hate the fucking job requirements that make it a risk for her to date me, and I hate that I know exactly how amazing she is, that I’ve touched her, held her... and now it’s all over. She’s not mine.
When we reach the players’ entrance, the guard is gone, and the door locked. I do a quick check, and the little red light shows that it’s armed. Damn it.
I pull out my phone and turn to Everly with a grimace.
“Looks like we’re locked in.”