Chapter 10 #2
I fight the urge to argue. I’ve never had a problem with anyone’s hands I’ve worked with or on while being on any field or court… Bellamy’s hands are very large compared to most. It’s just different. This isn’t a normal thing for me, but he doesn’t need the ego boost knowing it’s only his hands.
“I’ll manage,” I turn his hand over to look over my work.
I bring my mouth to the tape and rip with my teeth, something I normally wouldn’t do, but I can since it’s just us.
I wrap each wrist, and then his fingers as well, making sure to do a good job on each.
I finish and look at him. “Anywhere else?”
He shakes his head, his eyes looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Having Bellamy’s attention, his full attention… It’s intimidating, to say the least.
“Nope, you got it,” He flips my chin up before backing up. “Thanks, Ryn,” He smiles a wide smile, and I press my lips together.
He starts with simple stretches, and I do them with him, following his movements, easily making him laugh. He tosses me the football, and I toss it back, the best I can. I’m fit, but I’m not Bellamy, no one is.
He truly amazes me with his strength, with how far he can throw a football.
I’m not easily impressed considering how much of the sport I watch, how much of all the sports I watch on the TV or in person.
But Bellamy has always impressed me, even when I wasn’t tutoring him, and he was just a person on a field in front of me.
I barely knew him at all until this year, just of him. Just of his talent on the turf.
“What team?”
I shake my head at his question, using all my strength to throw the ball back to him, “That’s a loaded question. What team for what?”
Bellamy’s arms flex as he preps himself, then he throws the ball straight back to me, a perfect spiral.
This is a test of my mental strength as much as it is my physical strength.
Bellamy looks better on the field than he does anywhere else, he’s comfortable.
He’s sexy, he’s showing off his skills, and his body.
I push past the intrusive thoughts and continue on.
“What team do you want to do this for? What team do you want to work with for the rest of your life?” He asks me as I catch his pass, moving back a bit at the impact of the ball hitting my chest.
I’m going to have bruises from this damn ball.
“That’s not an easy answer. I want to be close enough to my mom and dad…
But I don’t love the Washington Commanders as a team.
Ideally... I love the 49ers as well as the city of San Francisco, but I also love the Raiders.
If I had nothing holding me back at all, the Giants.
New York sounds exciting,” I tell him. “What about you? What NFL team is your dream?”
His amusement is prominent across all of his features. I wonder if he could ever talk about football with any of his other girlfriends or if they ever cared. Not that he’s really my boyfriend, but still.
“Well… I’m also not the biggest fan of the Commanders, but I love the 49ers.
I love the Broncos too, or even the Packers.
I’m honestly shocked you’re a Giants fan.
Can’t say I love the team, but I love the city.
But if I had to pick one, nothing holding me back either I think I’d pick the Miami Dolphins, that was my dad’s favorite team, and I love the beach, the warmth, and the ocean. Miami sounds exciting.”
We both know there’s hardly any way of knowing who or what team you could play for, it's fun to dream, to wish, and to hope. Truly, I’d work for any team that was willing to have me, even if it was The Commanders.
“I like the drive the Giants have. My dad and I watch them together, and we love them so I guess we have that in common, wanting to work with our parent’s favorite… Though I don’t really like the Dolphins colors.”
He gasps at my words, and I smirk at the small dig.
“I think you’d look great in Giants colors Ryn,” His mouth twists into a smile that makes my stomach tighten.
Imagine one day the two of us worked professionally on any team… Or even on the same team. The thought warms my chest. I feel like there would be a very big sense of comradery if that were the case. It would feel more like home to know a familiar face on my dream team.
“So I know you really like football. I did think you were only interested though because of your major… I’m seeing now that’s not the case,” He throws the leather ball my way, and it hits my chest as I catch it.
Dear god, is his arm made of steel? I throw a perfect spiral back to him.
“I really like football, not just because of my major,” I say.
“My dad was always watching during the season, I know I told you he took me to college games and stuff. When I was old enough to understand the sport I started watching it with him. We would yell at the TV together every game, and we had our own touchdown dance just like the players. The games on the TV were an event. I was home and seated for every single one right by him. When our favorite teams would come into town he would do his best to get tickets even if they were in the back row.”
“So your dad got you into it. But how into it are you really?”
“I mean I loved it so much I chose to go into sports medicine with hopes of working with the NFL. You know I know stats. I know players. This sport is just different than all the others because the fans are different. The excitement at the games and everything that comes along with it. Football has more high stakes and that’s why I love it the most,” I throw another perfect spiral throw toward the quarterback in front of me.
“So potentially we can watch games together this year when the NFL season starts?” His lips form a lazy grin.
His dimple is prominent on his smooth face.
We won’t be fake dating next year, but he has obvious hopes we will still be friends enough for that.
I can imagine myself watching football with him during the colder months.
I’m sure Lawson would be there too. But I have no idea what’s going to happen leading up to the school year.
I can’t make promises for that kind of thing. Not now anyway.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working hard, not chit-chatting, and tossing a ball?”
He nods at me, waiting for me to pass it back.
“I just love seeing the way you throw, it’s kind of turning me on.”
I roll my eyes, coming in close to him now, relieving the space we have between us.
“On your back, workout, get your body warm, then we’ll do drills.”
He smirks, dropping the football, and also dropping to his back.
“Fifty, go,” I tell him, and get on the ground with him.
I place my knees on his feet, and he starts his curl ups, coming all the way up, his face incredibly close to mine.
“You come that far up every time, you get something on fifty,” I try to encourage him though I’m almost positive he’s going to come that far up every time even without an incentive.
“You’re underestimating me,” He talks as he works out, not breaking a sweat.
He’s incredibly skilled, and fast despite how far up he’s coming, and before I know it he’s at fifty, and he’s already kissing me as he makes it up from his last curl up. He lays back down, his lips separating from me, and I put my hands on his knees, looking down at him.
“How did you know that was the something I was going to give you?”
“That’s what I was hoping for,” He shrugs and gives a golden smile.
I stand up, not letting myself fold, and show the smile I have loaded behind closed lips.
I hold my hands out for him and help him up.
He walks me through some of the normal drills he does, and I help him through them, watching as he keeps his stamina up through all of them.
He starts to sweat, the sun beating down on both of us, and I watch as he brings the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face.
“You can take it off,” I say. He just looks at me, his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Your shirt. If you normally don’t work out with one on, then take it off. Don’t change your routine because of me,” I tell him, and to my surprise he actually does.
My eyes catch the tattoo, noticing just how defined his chest, and torso actually are.
He was too far away when I was in his bathroom, but right now he’s up close and personal.
Talk about perfection. He really does look like one of those sculptures, his body could be fake.
If I didn’t know any better I’d reach out just to make sure he was real.
“Ready?” He claps his hands, snapping me out of my unnecessary fantasy.
It’s not normal to want someone this bad, it’s not normal at all.
“Water, then we’ll go,” I bend down and toss his bottle to him, grabbing my own while I’m down here.
“You know you make this a lot more fun, mostly because you’re actually into it... Are you enjoying this?”
I nod, gulping my water.
“I am. The field, football, and helping like I am, it's what I’ve always wanted to do. I love this,” I motion around me. “Enough talk. Let’s go.”
I crouch down, and he does too. I count down, and we start more drills for him. He continues working, and I watch as he starts to sike himself out, his body beginning to tire out.
“Come on Bell. Don’t slack on me now!” I yell, and he snaps his head up. “Come on Bell! Let’s go!” I keep yelling, and he keeps it up, continuing through the drill until it’s done, and then he makes his way back to me.
“If you want me to focus, you can’t call me Bell, got it?”
I tilt my head, the lightest smirk on my lips.
“Sure, whatever you say, Bell,” I walk past him, and pat his ass that’s just as muscular as the rest of him. “One mile, both of us, then we’ll go back to your place, and get ready for the date alright?”
He looks down at me, wiping a towel over his face, collecting the sweat.
“Both of us?” He sounds surprised.
“I’m dressed for the occasion, so yes, we can run a mile together.”
He shrugs his shoulders and drops his things.
“Then let’s go,” He starts right away, leaving me in the dust behind him, I catch up to him, and we run around the field on the sidelines together.
After we finished our mile we were both coated in a thin layer of sweat, but from the way he smiled, and gave me a high five I could tell we were both feeling pretty good.
We gather our things and make our way back to the stairs.
He crouches down before we make our way to the top, and I jump on his back, letting him give me a ride all the way to his Jeep.
Once we’re in, he drives us back to his apartment and we freshen up.
He takes a shower, and I fix my hair and makeup.
I change into a pair of cut off shorts and a white sweater that hangs off of my shoulders.
Now I’m laying on his bed, and I was right, it really is the softest bed I’ve ever been in and I hope one day out of the next twelve I will be invited to sleep here, and I strictly mean sleep. Because I know it would be the best few hours of my life.
Bellamy’s bathroom door opens, and he walks out in a towel, and my eyes scan him.
He lets his gaze rest on me as I lay on his bed, and he grins at the sight before opening his drawers, facing away from me.
He grabs a few things and then walks past the dresser, and opens the door to what I assume is his closet.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him.
A couple of minutes later he returns, fully clothed now.
I look at him, and he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt that doesn’t hug his body for once.
It’s a bit oversized on his torso, but still somewhat shows off his muscular arms. His hair is messy, and almost fully dry, but still damp. He’s glowing.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Shoes, and then I will be,” He tells me.
He throws his towel in a hamper, and then I follow him out of his bedroom, and into the living room where Griffin sits alone.
“What are you up to Archie?” Griffin asks. He wasn’t here when we had gotten back, we must’ve not heard him get back. Griff’s eyes land on me, and he smiles. “Nevermind,” He speaks out, realizing what’s going on.
“We’re going to the movies. Can I borrow your car?” He asks his friend who seems to understand why he’s asking.
“What’s wrong with your car?” I ask Bellamy.
“Nothing.”
Griff tosses the keys to his Bellamy. “Archie’s got something special planned, don’t make him ruin it,” He has a giant smirk on his face, and I narrow my eyes.
“The two of you aren’t up to any good,” I cross my arms, and Griff shrugs.
“I think everything we do is good, but that’s a matter of opinion. I’m taking your car to the meeting then, that’s fine?” He asks and Bellamy nods.
“Of course, just don’t fuck it up,” Bellamy says and Griff nods.
“As long as you two don’t do anything gross in the backseat. No funny business,” He warns us and I scoff.
“Why do your friends think I’m just going to jump you on every surface?” I ask Bellamy, knowing Lawson warned us of the same thing.
“It’s not you we’re worried about,” Griffin defends and Bellamy tosses up a middle finger.
“We’re leaving before you get on my nerves,” Bellamy nods his head to the door, and I follow him, still wondering about the car, but knowing I won’t get an answer.
I had no idea I agreed to do this list with someone who would do his best to add so much to it.
Bellamy is not a bare minimum type of guy, and that’s all I’ve ever known in my past. That thought alone is scary because I love knowing that he’s putting this effort in.
I love knowing he’s got his mind on this at all times.
I love knowing I’m at the top of his priorities for the next two weeks.