“I’m not role model material, Marissa.” He lifts a shoulder but doesn’t turn around.
How can such a self-assured guy have such crappy self-confidence in other areas of his life?
“You’re teaching them soccer not taking them to the bar, Ryland.” I sigh in his direction as my first bout of unease settles in my stomach. I hope he'll let me talk him into this.
“I’m not sure,” he says finally turning from the stove. “Kids are kind of scary.”
I scoff at him. “That’s the reason why you’re worried?”
“Teenagers are the worst. All the back talk.” He shakes his head in worry.
“I’ll go with you and be there the whole time. If any back talk happens, I’ll hip check them.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, either because of my new soccer knowledge or skepticism I’d be able to take anyone out. Such little faith in my wicked skills.
“Ryland, they already inflated the balls.” I’ll admit I resort to a whine in the end, but if it works I’ll take it.
It’s his turn to roll his eyes, but he finally agrees on the stipulation I go with him. We shake on it and I send a short text to Clare letting her know we’ll be there Saturday. I may have already given her the go ahead to start a sign up with the kids who visited the center this afternoon. Worst case scenario if Ryland hadn’t agreed right away, I had a back-up plan to get him on board. Peer pressure from Grant.
A timer beeps from the side of the refrigerator and Ryland leans over to shut it off. “Okay, noodles are finished. Another ten minutes or so and we’ll eat.” He moves the pan to the other side of the stove and turns down the burner.
“You’ll like Clare and she’ll let you meet as much as you want with the kids. She said the whole program is yours.” I try to sweeten the idea of volunteering with the scary teenagers.
Back at his place on the counter, he grins. “Yes, I suppose. As long as you weren’t planning to try and set me up with her.”
“No. Trust me I’d never set you up on a blind date.” And not only because the idea of Ryland dating someone is my worst nightmare. "Blind dates are horrible. I’d never inflict that pain on anyone else.”
“Speaking from experience, huh?”
“Unfortunately, yes and I can’t tell my friends because they think I’m too picky.”
“Well are you?” he questions.
“Of course not. The last one had nothing to do with me. He was terrible.” I reposition my seat on the stool and try not to fidget with the possible lie.It’s probably a lie.
Mr. Know-it-all-who-dates-super-models laughs. “What was wrong with him?”
I stare up at his white ceiling deciding where I want to start listing James’ faults. There were so many it’s hard to pick the biggest one to make the most impact and prove it isn’t me. “He wouldn’t let me dump my M&Ms in the popcorn. I had to eat them separate.”
Ryland’s face scrunches up in disgust at my date’s behavior. “Why would you do that?” Okay, or maybe it’s revulsion at my M&M preferences.
“It’s sweet and salty.” Why am I always forced to explain this to people?
“So you won’t see this guy again because he wouldn’t let you mutilate his popcorn?”
My fingers tap on the countertop. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“You mean sanely?” His left eyebrow pops up with the question.
“There were other issues too!” I rush to support myself.
“Stop.” Ryland puts a hand up. “Before you list this poor man’s faults, let me ask. What were his odds of getting laid pre and post popcorn incident?”
I roll my eyes, but pretend to give it thought even though James never stood a chance on the first date. “Well, pre I’d say fifty-fifty.”
“So twenty-eighty then,” he responds.
“Huh? I said fifty-fifty.”
