Page 18 of Calm Before the Score

“I want you in whatever way I can have you. I have film practice in about an hour, but I’ll be back when we’re dismissed.”

I’m left speechless in my bedroom as the tall, tattooed running back walks out my door. Trying not to put too much thought into Ryan, I proceed with my favorite day of the week. Sundays are my relaxation days. I don’t get out of my pajamas unless there is a very good reason.

My hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and I have my fluffy purple blanket on the couch with me. I’m stirring over last night’s drunken events, along with Ryan’s message to me on his way out the door. Could last night really change things between us? He’s so hot and cold, and I can’t afford to have distractions in my life. I don’t have anyone to fall back on.

Hartley still hasn’t graced me with his presence before his film practice. He parties hard and gets away with more than he should. My mind goes in circles like a fast-paced carnival ride. I have that gut-wrenching sensation right before you go down the biggest turn. A loud knock at the door shocks me from my thoughts. Ugh. I bet Hartley forgot his keys. I get up slowly to open the door, and I’m greeted by a grinning Ryan.

“I thought you were Hartley,” I say as I physically feel my feet cement to the floor.

“Babe, I never will be. Lucky for you, I’m better.”

“Excuse me?!” I answer his self-assured remark, and I can feel my face flushing. I suddenly realize what I’m wearing.

“I’m in my pajamas, so you can wait on the couch until I change.”

“Why would you change?” he asks sincerely, as if I’m not standing in front of his wall of sweaty muscles looking like an absolute troll.

“Because I look like death.”

“Don’t change.”

“I’m changing.”

“Don’t.”

“Give me three good reasons, and I won’t.”

“Easy. Number one, you look incredible, and those shorts let me see your legs. I might die if you cover them up. Number two, I want you to be real around me. Number three, however long you take to change is going to take time with you away from me.”

Well, I can’t really argue with that. He’s got a way with words, and I’m folding easier than I thought.

We silently walk to the couch. He wraps his arms around me, and I let him. He puts on a show that I don’t have to use any brain power to watch. My cheek is nuzzled into his warm body. I can feel his chest moving up and down with each breath. This feels right. Breaking the silence, he says, “Tell me something.”

I answer, “Ok. What do you want to know?”

“How did you end up at Springs U with Hartley? He’s a year older than you.”

I stay silent for a few seconds before responding to him. I’m deciding whether I can trust him or not. Should I let him see through the lens of my past, or should I give him the answer I give everyone else? I decide to step out of my comfort zone and give him the real reason I’m here.

“My grandpa passed away the summer before my junior year of high school.”

He’s rubbing circles around my cold arm, assuring me I can keep going. Keeping my apartment like the frigid arctic is my preference.

“It was just the two of us. He raised me the best he could. Hartley lived two streets over, and our grandparents were friends. We spent every day together. When Hartley’s grandparents died, his dad moved in and took custody of him. He’s an alcoholic. It was a really bad situation, so my grandpa let Hartley stay with us a lot. We got really close, and he eventually became a big brother to me.”

Hartley is more than willing to share his back story, but you have to ask. I look up to my human pillow giving him permission to answer.

“What was he like?” Ryan asks.

“You would have loved him. He was obsessed with football. He taught me every rule of the game. We would watch football or highlights every night before bed. He played in college and coached a few years after that. He quit when he took me on. I never asked him much more about that. I didn’t want to know what my parents were like. He’s the only parent I ever had. He was everything to me, and when I lost him, I lost a part of myself with him,” I say softly. My heart beats out of my chest, and my eyes well up with tears.

“He sounds great. Please tell me he fussed at Hartley during his Little League games. I would have paid to see that,” he playfully chuckles and pulls me in tighter.

I laugh, “Oh yeah, it was hilarious! He would argue with Hartley over plays, and they both wanted to have the last word.”

“Where did you go when he passed away?” Ryan asks with concern laced in his voice.

“That’s when I felt the most lost I have ever been. I had no family who wanted me, so Hartley stepped in and moved me in with him. His dad had disappeared across the country, and hewas living on his own. His dad deposited money each month in his bank account. I’m sure it was his way of taking care of him without actually having to be a present father. My great aunt, who lived hours away, signed my custody papers and helped me with money, but let me live wherever I wanted. She saw it as a relief.”

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