Somee
Iswear I blinked and from Friday when Ryland last called until now moved so quickly.
He hadn’t video called again but sent texts to check in, mostly around early evening when he knew Rylee would have her homework completed and finished dinner.
I also assumed it was when he was settled from practice, training, and meetings.
Ryland and I exchanged a few texts about the process of getting Rylee and me packed and ready to leave by Sunday.
He provided a flight schedule after I emailed him all of the required information.
That was pretty much all that was exchanged between us while he and Rylee engaged in a shared coloring app he found and invited Rylee to participate in with him.
It was sweet that he was considerate enough to find a way to engage and connect with Rylee.
One thing was for sure, Ryland was making it hard to not like him.
I wanted to, I really wanted to, but no matter what irritated me about him, I always circled back to the same realization.
He truly was a good guy. He didn’t have all the answers nor did he have things all figured out when it came to moving Rylee to Crescent Falls with him, but at the very least, I had to give him credit for making the most of a terrible situation.
He sent over a list of candidates for security to travel with Rylee and me when we weren’t with him. The idea of needing security gave me pause but Ryland assured me it was more of a precaution than necessity. He did not want to take chances with leaving Rylee exposed.
Whether I liked it or not, Ryland Parks was a well-known celebrity, which meant the potential for anyone connected to him to fall under scrutiny.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that layer being added to Rylee’s life or how she would adjust, but I had to lean into what Marlee always assured me.
She was smart, resilient, and would adjust.
That was likely the case but the bigger question was would I.
Over the past week, my thoughts had been consumed by a sexy, cocky, and pushy football player who lived rent-free in my head.
He also made multiple appearances in my bed by way of very spicy dreams that had me waking up feeling emotionally drained and needy.
Sexually needy and frustrated. After having the man in living color in my dreams, my hands did not suffice when trying to ease the tension caused by the things I envisioned us engaging in.
Dreams were one thing, but living in his home, having so much access to my point of contention, was going to be a problem.
My goal was to focus all of my energy on Rylee.
I was also well aware that facilitating their bond would be a task because Ryland made it abundantly clear that he planned on utilizing every free moment he had to get to know his sister, which meant either I’d stay out the way and give them time to build their bond or be stuck right in the middle of their family reunion.
Neither option sounded tempting, so instead of allowing myself to overthink, I decided to focus on something I enjoyed.
Football. Never mind the fact that my team was getting their asses handed to them by his team.
I huffed and reached for the bowl next to me but my nails made contact with the plastic bottom. I sent a narrowed glare at Marlee who was brushing crumbs from her fingers after having finished the last of the chips.
When she noticed my glare, a smile split her face before she signed, “Sorry, you know I hate these games. I’m only here for the snacks.” She paused and dropped an arm around Rylee’s shoulder and tugged her tiny frame into her side, causing Rylee to grin before Marlee signed, “And the snuggles.”
I rolled my eyes and my hands were in motion. “Well, next time I’m going to make entry a two bag minimum.”
“Fair enough,” she returned. I turned my eyes back to the TV just in time to catch the next play. My hands sliced through the air in aggravation.
“Come on, that’s holding.”
My Tigers were down by two with six minutes left in the fourth quarter and we needed this win. We shouldn’t have even made it this far after being a wildcard but we made it all the way to the Conference Championship game. If we got past the Sharks, we were on our way to the Super Bowl.
Marlee got my attention then asked, “Who’s holding?”
I cut my eyes her way, knowing she didn’t care but I explained anyway. “Forty-five. He had him by the jersey.”
“But isn’t that the point of defense? To keep them away from the offense by any means necessary?” she signed back.
“Yes but…you know what? Never mind. You don’t really care.”
I was back to focusing on the game but also seated on the edge of the sofa, elbows on my knees as I leaned forward, hopeful. We needed this win. Next to me, Rylee scooted to the edge of the sofa and mirrored my position. I grinned at her wearing a Sharks jersey.
I’d managed to snag one offline and got it shipped to us in time for a pregame photoshoot.
Me in my Tigers jersey while she wore number fifty-five to represent her big brother.
Being with me, it was only natural for Rylee to be a football fan.
She had no clue what was going on most of the time and only cheered when there was a touchdown.
Sometimes for the opposing team but we were getting there.
I thought it would be a sweet gesture to let Ryland know Rylee would be watching him play today and also sporting a jersey with his number.
It was a women’s XS, which was all I could get in time for the game, and it swallowed her small frame, but we made it work.
After all, it was the gesture that counted.
We did a photoshoot this morning and texted the pictures to Ryland. Me in my Tigers jersey with Rylee doing a bunch of silly poses. I hadn’t gotten a response but assumed that had more to do with gameday focus than ignoring us.
The Sharks broke the huddle and lined up at their twenty-eight.
Third and eight. Their QB settled in and my eyes drifted left toward fifty-five.
One thing I would give Ryland was that he looked damn good in his uniform.
His body was massive and lengthy. His weight was forward, knees bent and arms loose at his sides.
The snap came and the defender went right, trying to spin and cut around Ryland, but he shifted and squared his body, moving with quick, short paces, blocking Omiri long enough for him to get the ball downfield.
Damn it…
I turned when I noticed Marlee’s hands moving in my periphery. She was signing to Rylee. “Your brother is making Somee mad.”
Rylee’s face scrunched. “Why is he making her mad?”
Marlee smirked and cut her eyes my way before she focused on Rylee and signed, “Because he’s good and Somee doesn’t want the Sharks to win.”
Rylee slipped off the sofa and stepped in front of me. “Do you want me to cheer for the Tigers so they can win?” she signed.
My heart melted. Before the game started, she asked if she should cheer for Ryland since she was wearing his jersey, and if she did, would I be sad.
“No, you cheer for the Sharks. They need all the help they can get because my Tigers are going to win this.” I tapped her nose and she smiled before I pulled her into my lap to watch the next play.
Omiri had gotten them downfield and they were in range to score again to take the lead and win the game until the refs called offensive pass interference.
The call was questionable, but came with a penalty that shifted them back ten yards with just seconds left, making their only option to score by means of kicking a field goal.
They lost. Shit…
As much as I wanted my Tigers to win, I didn’t want it to happen like this. A bad call from the ref resulted in a field goal that put the Sharks out of the playoffs.
Their team was clearly pissed. Their coach argued with the ref and the players shoved people out of their way as they left the field. All of that was expected but my focus remained on number fifty-five.
He had words with one of the reporters who looked distraught after Ryland walked away from her, which had me turning to Marlee to find out what was said.
My hands moved quickly after I had her attention. “What did he say?”
“We didn’t lose the fucking game. The refs did. Report that.”
My eyes went wide. “He didn’t.”
“He did,” she signed with a smug grin. “He’s not happy.”
Understandably so, because he was right. The call was bullshit and cost them the game, but I imagined stating that so colorfully with a reporter wouldn’t earn him any favor.
“We didn’t win,” Rylee signed after she stepped in front of me.
I shook my head. “No, the Sharks lost. Sorry, kid.”
I tapped her nose and she shrugged. “Can I have more wings?”
“Go for it but you need veggies, so add some celery and carrots,” I signed and grinned when she wrinkled her nose.
“Just two,” she tried and I shook my head.
“More than two and eat at the table.”
She huffed and signed okay, leaving me to head to the kitchen to fix a plate. Everything was laid out on the counter because I wanted Rylee to always have the ability to function independently whenever possible.
“Are you all packed?” Marlee signed when Rylee was out of our line of sight.
“I am.”
“You think he’s still coming? That was a pretty tough loss,” she signed.
I rolled my eyes because she had no clue how tough of a loss it truly was but at least she paid enough attention to know who won the game.
“He’ll be here. He’s too stubborn not to show. Loss or not,” I returned with my brows pinched.
“I still can’t believe you’re going. I’m going to miss you,” she signed with a pout.
“You could come too.”
“You can’t invite me to stay at that man’s house.”
“I can. I’m sure at this point he’ll agree to just about anything to make sure I don’t bail on him.” I shrugged.
“Anything?” she signed back with an arched brow and I narrowed my eyes before signing, “No to whatever you're thinking.”
Marlee laughed. “Fine, have you talked to your mother yet?”