18. Everly
18
Everly
“ H ow was the art fair photoshoot today at Books Elementary?” Aunt Sharon passes me the salad bowl and I take a generous helping of leafy greens, pumpkin seeds and dried cranberries as I answer her.
“It was adorable. There’s something so amazing about how kids see and portray the world.” I grab a buttered roll and add it to my plate next to green beans and pot roast. “And the differences in interest are so obvious from one grade to the next. I can’t tell you how many paintings I saw of unicorns and mermaids from the kindergarteners. First grade was a mesh, and then second and third grade were all Mario Brothers and action heroes.”
Aunt Sharon chuckles and takes a sip of her tea before saying, “I still have some of your elementary school artwork around here somewhere.” I smile and stare at my plate as I cut a piece of roast.
“Ryder showed up,” I add casually. “The kids went bonkers when they saw him.” I watch her brows raise as she looks at me speculatively, and I try to keep my face composed.
“Hmmm. So that’s the fifth time in two weeks that he’s found a way to come out, then?”
“Mmm hmm.” I take another bite. Two weeks, two jobs, and seven interviews – it’s been busy since we moved, and somehow around games and training and end-of-season events like Rivalry Week he’s still found ways to come and visit.
“He’s a good friend,” I say as I break open my bread roll.
“Yes…a very good friend, I’d say.” Aunt Sharon winks at me, and chuckles but she doesn’t press for details.
After dinner I grab my laptop and head out to a nearby Starbucks to do some editing on the pics I took today. I’m just settling in when I get a text from Ryder asking if he can drop something off. I text back the address, and thirty minutes later I see him stride in wearing hoodie, shades, and sweatpants. The only giveaways that he’s a star are his height and the custom shoes. I shake my head. These ballers have a thing for their shoes.
He settles into one of the armchairs next to me, and I set the laptop aside.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Not bad, and you?”
“Is everything okay? I’m kind of surprised you’re not at a game or something right now.”
“Yeah, we had our Rivalry games earlier in the week. I didn’t get a chance to mention that when I saw you earlier.” He grins and sets a box on the table.
“No kidding, those kids were really excited.” I respond. He laughs before answering.
“To be honest, the teachers were worse.” I feel a grin spreading across my face at the memory of more than one woman (and a few men) fangirling over Ryder.
“It’s true. Kids don’t have normal boundaries yet, but adults should really know better sometimes.”
“It’s the old ladies that get me every time, though.” Ryder shakes his head, and I know exactly what he’s talking about. The older ones are past the age of being self-conscious and they like their eye candy. “I swear one of the teachers grabbed my butt when she hugged me. She was short, but not that short.”
“Dang! Your family really has a thing going on, between Purple Diamond stripping and you and the old lady spankings.” He whips his head toward me in shock, his mouth hanging open before he answers in indignation.
“Hey! I didn’t spank them. There was no spanking. It was grabbing, and they were grabbing me ! If anything, it was molesting, and due to the age difference could probably count as some kind of robbing the cradle.”
I just laugh. “Come to think of it, you seem to have a way of getting your parts grabbed by random people.” I waggle my brows at him in memory of our run-in at the beginning of the documentary work. His response is anything but casual as he leans in with an intent look in his eyes and holds my gaze with more than a little heat.
“Not random. And not people. Just you.” My mouth goes dry, and I falter for a moment as heat rushes through me and answering desire reaches up wanting to lean in further, wanting to touch and devour. Instead, I break the gaze and turn my eyes to the box on the table.
“So, what’s so important that you had to make a second trip in one day?” Ryder grins and grabs the box, handing it to me.
“Grandma made Italian wedding cookies.”
Immediately, all thoughts of sex and body parts disappear as I spring forward in my chair. “No way! Sand tarts? Those are my favorite!” The last word comes out in a squeal as I kick my feet against my chair and pop open the box to see two rows of crescent-shaped cookies covered in powdered sugar.
“Oh my gosh, Ryder! I love them! How did you know?!“ He nods his head at me and grins before he slouches back into his chair with his finger pointing to the crown of his head.
“Mind like a steel trap,” he quips.
I stare at the box and think of his crazy schedule, and how famous and talented he is, and here he is doing this simple little thing, making time in his schedule to drive across town and bring me cookies, and just like that my heart does a little pitter patter. This is crazy. I grab one and then offer one to him before closing my eyes and savoring the sweetness and crumbly texture. It’s a crumbly cookie that stops just short of being too dry. I quickly polish off two more before putting the lid back on.
“Okay. I have to stop now, or none of these will make it back to Aunt Sharon.” Ryder’s still got that smile on his face, and I realize he hasn’t placed an order since he walked in the door.
“Oh, did you want to get something?” I ask, gesturing toward the counter, but he waves me off.
“No, I’m all set for tonight. Just wanted to bring you these while they’re fresh.” My heart does that little pitter patter again, but I try to shake it off as I grab my laptop and prop it open.
“I was just about to check my emails in case I have an interview for tomorrow, and then I think I’m done here for the evening.” I stand and carry my laptop to the tall table behind us, and Ryder follows. I climb up onto a stool while he stands, but he’s still several inches taller than me.
“So, tell me about your day,“ I say as I pull up my email account. We chat for a few minutes until one email catches my attention and everything comes to a halt.
“Whoa, wait a second.” I hold up a hand and squint at the screen. It’s an email from a manager at ABC Sports, and…I jump off the stool and launch myself at Ryder in a bear hug.
“I got the job! I got the job!” I’m practically yelling in his face, but I don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either, because he grabs me and swings me gently in a circle with a laugh. When he sets me down, I turn back to the screen again, still bouncing on my toes with excitement.
“Look at this! It’s from Angela Vasant, the hiring manager at ABC Sports, and they’re hiring for a remote contractor job. This is soooo perfect! I can’t believe it!” I’m squealing again and Ryder is congratulating me, and everything in me wants to shout because money has been so tight lately and, frankly, a woman has her pride.
“Thank God.” I whisper as tears prick at my eyes, and suddenly a wash of emotions hits me so hard in the chest I can hardly speak. I grab Ryder’s hand and squeeze hard as I try to hold the tears inside. This is so validating after being let go from the documentary. I feel a huge smile spread across my face as I finally pop open my eyes and see matching joy in the man beside me.
What an amazing friend he’s been these last few days, and he’s so close, leaning over me, proud of me. I don’t think; I just act. Reaching up, I place my hands on his face as I lift onto my toes and plant a kiss on that perfect mouth. His skin is so smooth, and he tastes somehow sweet and earthy all at once. The moment we touch, we meld to each other — hungry, starving for each other. It’s a sudden moment of passion that I didn’t see coming, but when we release each other and ease back several seconds later I know this isn’t something I can forget. There’s still something between us. I felt it that night in Phoenix and, despite everything that’s happened, it hasn’t faded one bit. I’m beginning to wonder if it ever will. We stare, caught in each other’s eyes for a few seconds more, before I clear my throat. “Um, thanks…for the cookies. I have to go now.” He drops his gaze for a moment, and when he raises his eyes back to mine, he smiles and squeezes my hand. There’s a look in his eyes that makes me want to stay.
“Congratulations, Curves. You earned this, and you deserve it. I’m so happy for you.” I nod my head in thanks and pick up my laptop and my box of cookies before backing away slowly, still unwilling to turn my eyes away from him. There’s something about him that I can’t deny, that keeps reeling me back in. When I get to the door I finally turn toward my car, and after I’ve backed out of my parking spot I see him outside in the chilly January air, leaning with his back against the wall and his eyes on me. I wave a hand at him, and he waves back before I pull out of the parking lot and head home.
The next morning, I wake up to his text message.
RYDER: Good morning, Curves. Can’t wait to hear more about the new job...Have dinner with me?
That’s all it says, and I just stare at the screen. I think I want this. I think I want to give him a second, second chance. Oh my God. I sigh and wonder what’s got into me, but the truth is it’s the same thing that got into me back at the very beginning of the documentary.
I’m crazy. More specifically, I’m crazy about this guy. He really made me question his trustworthiness when he ghosted, but in all honesty, I saw him date girls in high school, and he was never a douchebag back then. I don’t think he’s careless about others. I just don’t know what that means for us and how many times I might get hurt on this journey.
With something between a moan and growl I put my phone aside, purposefully not answering even though I’m pretty sure I’ll always regret it if I don’t try one more time.
Two hours later, I’m showered, dressed, ‘makeupped,’ and have answered all of my emails. I’m back to staring at that text from Ryder. It’s calling to me.
Flipping to my favorite contacts I select the one I know I need and hit dial. Seconds later Rachel’s voice answers, and we chat for a few minutes while I update her on the new job. Once we’re done with the squealing and cheering and dreaming, I take a breath.
“Hey Rachel, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she answers in that tone that implies I’m some kind of idiot for even starting like this.
“Hypothetically speaking… if I was into basketball players, how weird would it be?”
She laughs immediately, “Girl, I already know your type, tall dark and handsome. So predictable.” And I snort a laugh. It’s true.
“Yeah, but I guess I was wondering how weird it would be if I liked someone a little closer to home…Would it be, like, absolutely awful if I found Ryder attractive?” I wince and hold my breath waiting for the response. We’ve never covered this territory before, and my palms are suddenly sweating.
“Everly.... first of all, ew! Because: brothers… blech. But also… I guess I see your point, sort of… I mean, Ryder and I share genetics and I’m gorgeous, so I guess his dumb face probably looks attractive to others too.“ We laugh and feel myself relax just a fraction.
“But seriously, do you think you like him?” She asks. “I mean, you know how Ryder and I are. We drive each other batty, but he really is the best brother a girl could have.”
“I might… I don’t know. I mean, you’re right that he’s my type, but it could be kind of complicated, couldn’t it? Dating my best friend’s brother? I guess I just wanted to check with you because I’m not sure, and…I would never do anything that would upset you.” I scrunch my eyes, remembering that technically I already slept with him and didn’t mention a word to her. But this is more deliberate, and I need to know how it impacts her.
“Well, if you two do date, just give me a heads up and make sure you zip it on any bedroom business, because I don’t want to know. That’s the rules,“ she states emphatically.
“Never fear.”
I see another call coming through while we talk, but since I don’t recognize the number, I let it go to voicemail. Ten minutes later we hang up, and I text Ryder back.
EVERLY: Yes. I’ll do dinner with you. Where?RYDER: My place. I want to cook for you. Monday, 6pm. Sound good?
EVERLY: Okay. See you then.
RYDER: Can’t wait.
I throw my phone down and walk away, my heart pounding. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I am, and it’s time to be brave. I’ve got a new job, and I’m taking a new chance on the man I haven’t been able to put behind me.
Belatedly I realize I hadn’t checked my voicemail, and I go back to hear a message from my doctor’s office asking me to call back about test results. I frown as I dial the number they left and then tell them my name and date of birth.
“Ms. Marshall? You came in for your yearly checkup last week.”
“Yes.”
“Well, we ran our routine tests, and there was a delay in reaching out to you since the doctor was on vacation for a few days. We’re catching up now, and I just wanted to let you know that your pregnancy test came back positive.”
“What pregnancy test?” My heart stops. It literally stops. I feel it beating one moment, and the next I can’t feel anything.
“Ma’am, as a safety precaution we regularly check urine samples for pregnancy hormones, and I just wanted to let you know that you tested positive.”
I thank the nurse and hang up in utter shock as I mutter to myself, “This can’t be right. The last time I was even active was three months ago… in Phoenix!”
OH MY GOD!