He places a hand on his hip the move bunching his shirt up an inch or so. Not enough to see anything good. “Now you’re worried about the rules? What about number seven? How many people know the code to get on the floor?”
“Only me and Goldie,” I lie and barely suppress the smile forming at his undignified look.
His eyes continue to bore holes through us for a few moments. If I didn’t know him so well now, the look might actually worry me a little. Finally, Ryland turns and heads back out the door without an actual good-bye.
The room stays quiet until the door closes behind him and then all three of us break out in laughter.
“Wow, Marissa, you have that man caught.” Aspen reaches for her wine glass once she’s regained her composure. “How many rules have you broken now?”
What rule haven’t I at least attempted to break? I mentally catalog the different areas I’ve followed the guidelines a little more loosely than others. “Well…… it depends on if you’re counting all of them or only the ones he knows about.” I bite the corner of my lower lip.
Aspen laughs. “She means he hasn’t seen her bedroom yet.”
She’s right. A few feet away lies quite possibly the biggest disturbance to Ryland’s rules thus far. He hasn’t been in my room since those first few days and the room's been lived in now. Aspen has firsthand knowledge of my lack of organization skills from our time in college together. Her side of the dorm room was kept spotless, each item picked up after she finished using it. It’s weird if you ask me. I like to keep my supplies closer to hand. Or wherever I drop them the last time I use them. Either works. It’s a system.
“What will you do about that? Clean maybe?” Aspen asks casting a glance toward the closed bedroom door.
“Never let him past the kitchen, obviously.”
“Well what’s the game plan with Ryland?” Simone asks.
I sigh and blow a breath out between my lips. “Why does there have to be a plan?” I’m lying to myself. I’m a plan girl, but I promised I would try harder to let events happen as they’re supposed to this time around. “He’ll probably end up on a team far away and then it won't matter how many rules I break.”
Aspen’s face falls at my words and she looks to the corner of the room. Her attention is so focused on one spot in particular it’s impossible to not figure out she’s hiding something.
“Just tell me, Aspen.” I suck in a breath when she doesn’t start right away. That means it’s bad.
Her head faces my direction, but her eyes are still cast to the corner. “Well… Finn may have admitted Ryland’s had teams calling him. So far he hasn't agreed to any tryouts though, so that’s good.” She rushes the last sentence to try and smooth over her news.
A part of me, a deep part I refused to address, knew Ryland had to have teams calling. Even with his past trouble, he’s a top player in the sport. Teams want him regardless. It’s not news, but having it confirmed hurts. Why didn't he tell me himself? Is he planning to up and leave one night? Lock the door behind him and leave me and Goldie here alone?
Never one to be good at over dramatics, except for those few months after my breakup with Cody, I stick an unaffected expression on and continue as if hearing Ryland’s on his way out the door doesn’t feel like a knife splitting open my chest cavity to dig around at the important tissue behind it. My heart.
It must not convince them as I’d hoped because Simone leans over and pats me on the leg. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it eventually,” she says. Am I that easy to read? “Life always works out in the end even if you can’t see it right now. The important thing is to remember life is short and you should embrace it while you have it. Figure out the rest later.” Simone’s words are serene, but they do little to calm me. She lost her mom last year and is the best one to give out this kind of advice, but I can't help thinking it should be different for Ryland and me.
A few hours of conversation later, Aspen and Simone leave, but I don’t move from my position on the tan couch. Do I have what it would take to be Ryland’s girlfriend? Does he even want me for the job? And if he did, could I handle the lifestyle? A move to England or wherever he ended up being paid to kick a ball around? Would I move? These last few weeks he’s been so normal it’s easy to forget my landlord’s a sports star. It's even easier to forget there are girls throwing themselves at him when he’s at a game. Coming off a horrible ending to my relationship with Cody, could I date Ryland without suspecting him of cheating every time he walked out the door?
I pour myself the last of wine and lean back on the couch lost in the questions we’d face if we tried to make more of what we have going on now. I wish I had easy answers for them all, but I don’t. I wish I could be the kind of girl to send her man out into the world and trust him, but I’m not. But damn do I wish I could.
The apartment door opens slower than the first time he barged in. There isn’t even a need for me to confirm it’s Ryland. Anyone else would knock. “Did Aspen leave?"
An empty wine glass in my hand, I continue to hold it as I stare straight ahead at the black television screen. “Would you cheat on me?”
He stops at the edge of the couch. “What?”
“Have you ever cheated on a girlfriend?” I ask. I’m not sure where the question came from or why I asked it, but it sounds simple enough. Yes or no.
“Who said I’ve ever cheated on someone?” He pauses. “And now we're in a relationship?”
With the wine glass on the coffee table next to Goldie, I shrug. “I don’t know. Is it?”
“Marissa…” He trails off and I grit my teeth refusing to tear up or any of those other stupid emotions girls do when they don’t get the answer they wanted.
I wave him away. “It’s okay, Ryland. I wanted to know and now I do.” I so wish I didn’t. I was happier in fantasy land.
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t want a relationship with you, but I don’t know what team will pick me up. My whole life is up in the air right now.”
“So you’re going back to soccer?” It’s such a stupid question there's no reason for me to ask it, but there’s this masochistic need within me to hear him say the words.
