CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I am a genius. Pure genius.
When I offered up Ryland’s extensive soccer skills to Clare for the youth center, I wanted to help find him a hobby, a little motivation to get out of the house. Not once did I take in to account what this agreement could offer me. I didn’t set out for payback, but pay back it did. In the form of a shirtless and sweaty Ryland. It’s the best form of compensation possible.
Twenty minutes into his hour-long session with the kids, he unzipped his fleece jacket and threw it on the ground beside the same folding chair I used last week. Being able to stare at him in the tight fitting shirt was enough to make me happy, but then ten minutes later he called a time out. On the side of the gym, he whipped his white t-shirt over his head exposing his chest and a set of wonderful ab muscles. Shiny grey basketball shorts and a pair of sneakers are the only clothing obstructing my view of his fine body. It makes me sit up straight and suck in my own small gut. I need to give this whole exercise bit a try.
Clare and I haven’t taken our eyes off him, both of us taken by his athletic build… er, I mean how great he is with the kids. Did I mention the chest hair? Not normally a fan, Ryland’s changed my opinion. The small amount covering his upper chest makes me want to run my fingers through it, maybe pull a little.
Ryland sprints down the indoor basketball court where a small soccer goal’s been placed on one end. He dodges around a slower kid and steals the ball from another player. I think his name was Paul. He’s tall like Ryland, but lanky. From the seven kids Clare had turn up this morning, Paul shows the most skill.
“Don’t forget to watch your back, Peter.” Ryland kicks the ball into the net and turns around to pat Peter on the back.
Okay, tall kid’s name is Peter not Paul. I must remember if he’ll be a regular participant. Honestly Clare introduced them so fast before they started to play I didn’t catch a single one, but Ryland appears to remember them all.
For a man worried teenagers were scary, he’s done a remarkable job with them this morning. Besides remembering names, he’s worked with each one on an individual basis on the right way to kick, pass, and run without falling over the ball. And he's done it with much more patience than I could have.
Ryland resets the drill, this time allowing a new player the chance at running the ball in for a goal. He doesn’t take off after him to steal it, but rather watches from the far end of the court.
“Good job, Jacob.” He cups a hand over his mouth and yells when the kid passes and another makes the goal.
“The turn out wasn’t bad for such short notice, but we’ll have more kids next time. There were at least five who were interested but already had commitments today." Clare turns, ready to restart our conversation. “Do you think he’ll want to do this again next Saturday?”
“With as much fun as he’s having.” I wave a hand at Ryland as he runs down the court. “I can guarantee it. Maybe a weeknight too, if you have an open gym for him to use.” There’s no way Ryland won’t want to come back and do this again.
She nods. “He’s really great with the kids.” Clare points to the middle of the room where Ryland passes the ball back and forth with a shorter girl in ripped jeans and a black sweatshirt. “They’re responding well. We’ve had volunteers who can’t make the connection, but your boyfriend stepped right in.”
“Yeah, he is great. Isn’t he?” I sound dreamy even to my own ears, which makes me cringe. “I mean boyfriend?” I sputter. “No, Ryland’s a friend. My landlord actually.”
Clare laughs and sticks her hands in the middle pocket of her grey hoodie with the youth center’s logo in the left corner. “Well now I don’t feel so bad ogling him for the past five minutes. Sorry, I assumed by how close you two were this morning you had more going on.”
My face heats at the memory. Ryland might have carried me into the center piggyback style, but only because he didn’t want to wait for me to hobble in. He’s been excited for this since last night and woke me up at eight this morning even though we didn't need to be here until ten.
“Eh… well…” My words trail off because I can’t explain what I have with Ryland. Technically it’s nothing, but I wouldn’t object to the more Clare’s suggested. Maybe. I shouldn't want more with him. Although as time passes between us I forget my reasons for not allowing myself to crush on him. I might be able to tell my brain I don’t like him, but by the way my heart perks up every time he’s near, it hasn't gotten the message.
I stop fidgeting and peel my eyes from where Ryland leans over correcting foot placement on Paul… um Peter. “I have a brunch date tomorrow with a bunch of my girlfriends. You should come.”
Clare grimaces and brushes a piece of her reddish hair from her face. “Oh, um I’ll be here for most of the day. Monday there’s a budget proposal meeting. I need to get my paperwork around. Thanks for the offer though.”
My shoulders slump at her rejection. I’m serious about wanting Clare at a girl brunch. I even approved her with the Amanda, Aspen, and Simone. They’re open to expanding our circle based on my appraisal of Clare’s coolness.
Ryland continues to yell directions at his players while attempting to steal the ball as he jogs past. A few of them have gotten better at their blocks in the short time we’ve been here. While I watch Ryland grin and laugh at different things happening in the gym, Clare talks about the various issues the budget faces this year.
“Do you have a fundraiser planned?” I ask her when I can’t shut off my marketing brain. I went into the field because I like to solve problems…… and money. I don’t get to enjoy the fun areas of marketing at my current job, at least not until I have another ten years of experience.
“You mean candy sales or something? The kids and their parents don’t have much money. I couldn’t ask them to sell anything."
I tap my head as the idea forms more. “No, you need a bigger event. Something huge to bring in a lot of money in a short amount of time. Is there a list of previous donors?”
“We get donations every year, but most of our budget comes from whatever the city allocates us.”
My plans grow larger. “Are you allowed to plan your own fundraisers?”
“Yeah, we’re encouraged, but with no other full-time staff it hasn’t been a priority in a few years.” Clare narrows one hazel eye at me in question.
I know a few people with deep pockets, one of which also loves to donate money to worthy causes. Plus, I have an in with their girlfriends and when I tell Aspen and Simone we get to plan a party, they’ll be on board. I start calculating the fun themes we can use and how to make sure all Grant’s rich friends get invites. I need to get a pen and paper asap.
Ryland blows a whistle and calls time on today’s practice right as I’m tenting my fingers, excited over my plans. Tomorrow’s brunch agenda took a new turn. Clare's fundraiser’s a better topic than trying to analyze how I feel about Ryland again.
