“Go for it.”
I picked up my phone off the counter and retreated into my bedroom, closing the door. I did need to speak to my agent, but it could wait. What I needed now was space for five minutes to have a word with myself about this.
It would be March before I was properly back in England. That was three months away. I could probably snatch a couple of long weekends or a midweek break somewhere, but that was if my calendar stayed as it was now, which was unlikely the closer we got to the awards season. I’d be in London for the BAFTAs, but that coincided with when Ryan was away for a World Cup qualifier in Turkey, if he got over this injury okay.
I called Lila. She answered a heartbeat after the phone started to ring.
“This is your personalised agony aunt service. How can I fix your problems today?” She sounded like the voice that did the announcements on the London Underground.
“Fuck off.” I lay back on my bed. “But yeah, shit just got real.”
“Just going to say this the once: I told you so.”
“Yeah, I know.” Lila had been quiet when I told her that Ryan was coming over. When I’d asked her why she wasn’t excited for me, she’d kept it simple. It was going to be a fucker when he left.
“He flies back tomorrow, so tomorrow night let’s go out for a meal and classy cocktails. I’ll crash at yours.” It was the perfect thing to say. “Just enjoy the time you’ve got today and stop borrowing trouble.”
“I know.” She was right. This was the same advice I’d be giving her in this situation. “I just wish…”
“No point. You both have commitments. That’s why what we do is shit for relationships because we’re all over the world and no one can fit into our schedule. It’s why people like us marry their managers and agents. It’s why footballers have wives with careers that they can do from anywhere.” I heard music in the background, something country which was kind of fitting with my mood.
“You don’t think this is going to work with me and Ryan, do you?”
Lila sighed. “Otter, he was your hook-up. You were having fun and the media outed you. Where would you be with him if they hadn’t done that? If those photos hadn’t been taken?”
“I have no idea. Probably still meeting up in secret when we could fit it in.” And I wouldn’t be feeling like this now: a combination of jealous and high on sex. “We were never just dating. I know what you mean.”
“I know you have some serious feelings for him and it’s not like you met him two weeks ago, but if every time when it comes to him going home or you flying off somewhere you feel like this, then it’s not going to be healthy for you. Or me.” The country music had stopped. “Go and enjoy what time you have left together. Goodbyes are shit, but this isn’t a permanent one. You might need to bail me out of jail, by the way.”
“Again?” This had already happened twice. Lila was rather talkative when someone annoyed her, and parking attendants and traffic cops tended to annoy her.
“The little dickhead who lives next door’s been playing country all morning. I’ve just walked into his kitchen and maybe dismantled his sound system.”
Holy fuck. “Lila…”
I heard Lila’s voice intermingled with what sounded like a very pissed off man and then the line was cut.
I’d call her back later. She was a tough cookie, she’d survive and this would be used in one of her routines.
Ryan was reading when I went back into the living area. He was sprawled out on the sofa, a thick thriller open in his hands, sweatpants replacing the shorts, but still bare chested. My heart did a little jump when I saw him, and that gooey feeling in my stomach returned.
Lila was right. I had to enjoy what was left of his visit and deal with the fall out of not knowing when I was going to see him after.
He put his book down and patted his lap. “Come sit with me.”
I did, relishing the feel of his heat radiating over my skin, his arms around my waist. We lay back on the sofa, my head resting on his chest, and I listened to the faint sounds of New York that managed to pass through the triple glazed windows and Ryan’s gentle breathing.
“Have you been to New York before?” There were so many things we hadn’t talked about.
“Three times. I think this is my fourth. I haven’t done the touristy thing though – it’s been mainly business.” His voice was low and sounded sleepy.
I drew a random pattern on his chest with my finger. “After the football season’s ended, you could come over for a week and I’ll take you round. I’ll even put on a Brooklyn accent.
He laughed quietly. “Maybe. I’ll need a holiday when this season’s over.”
“How about a beach? Hawaii? Or the Seychelles?” I could get carried away with this game.
“Let me survive this season first.” He was quiet for a moment, then he groaned. “I have to deal with my business, the one with Lotte.”
