No problem, Ty.
I’ll get them next time, Avery.
Thanks, Ty.
And things of that nature. Empty words that barely scratch the itch I have to blabber every tiny detail of my day to him. Normally, I’d do some seemingly unintentional thing that would gain his attention: leaving the salt and pepper shakers somewhere that doesn’t make sense instead of on the stove where he likes them, watering the plants so carelessly that it creates a river on the windowsill and Ty has to remind me to clean up so as not to warp the wood, or tossing my clothes helter-skelter across the hallway on laundry day, which always garners an “Ever heard of a hamper?” from him.
Even if I give in and let myself do something silly so he’ll speak to me, Ty’s not here. The Kings had an away game today. I hadn’t planned on watching, but after I got back from a string of clients' homes—no cancellations yet this week, hallelujah!—I couldn’t help myself. I needed to see Ty. So I parked myself on the couch, flipped on ESPN, and caught the last quarter of our game against the Los Angeles Renegades. I fully planned to scroll apartment ads and other rentals, but Ty’s intensity sucked me in.
Watching him in his element—hearing his name emitted from the speakers by the announcers—issexy.I don’t know what he’s so worried about with being new to the team. It’s like they’ve been playing together for years. Coach Mack knew what he was doing when he brought Ty on. Every play was seamless, and Ty even intercepted the ball, changing the momentum of the game when he returned it for twenty-five yards before being tackled. When my mom texted the group chat asking if I was watching them climb their way back toward a win, it waslike I’d made the interception myself. I was so proud of him. I don’t care what anyone else says; without Ty today, the Kings would have lost.
Scurrying around the kitchen, I tidy up. Placing my dirty dinner dish in the sink, I stare out the dark window at the pristine pool deck lit by strands of lights draped across the pagoda, at the patch of grass next to the privacy fence I’m dying to dig up and turn into a garden. At Ty’s shirt that’s tossed over a pool lounger where he left it to dry after last night’s workout. I love living here. With him. A hollow opens up in my chest. Even if he’s been less than eager to speak to me lately, I’m happy being a fly on his wall.
Being friends is enough. Forget the kiss. Be grateful he hasn’t given you the boot.
I attempt to stuff the blank space with words, but it’s no use. Having the attention of an attractive man is heady. It’s intoxicating. Wanting it is something totally different. I took it for granted when I had it, and now it’s all I can think about. It’s all-consuming. Because I care about why he’s clammed up. I care about what he thinks of me.
Because I care abouthim.
I flip around, pressing my back into the apron of the sink as a war wages within me. How can I trust that this feeling is real? That it isn’t some desperate attempt by my finicky subconscious to undermine me again or that I’m simply pining after something I know I can’t have? I was supposed to date Ryan. And Ryan and I were supposed to go to that masquerade tonight. My eyes dart to the two tickets magnetized to the fridge, and I rip them off.
Disappointment consumes me. I’d beenreally excited to go. If I hadn’t forgotten about it, I might have waited longer to cut Ryan loose.
Do you hear yourself, Avery? Have some self-respect.
We only hung out twice, but both times he hardly acknowledged me. I’m tired of being ignored. Suddenly, I feel incredibly lonely. Maybe that’s why I find myself perched at the kitchen island, waiting for Ty to walk through the door. Despite my better judgment, I’m desperate for more than some menial exchange. Even if it means facing the awkwardhey, we kissedconversation head-on.
The charter bus should have delivered the players to the Kings’ facility by now. LA is only a couple hours away, and Ty doesn’t dawdle once he finishes his games. I know his routine. And I know he’ll be walking in any minute, ready to dump his bag on a chair, chug a Gatorade he keeps in the door of his fridge, and chomp down a bag of pineapple and pepper jerky he stores in the basket beside the toaster.
So I wait, swinging my feet below my barstool, unused tickets clenched in my fist, disappointed I have to miss out on the masquerade after planning the most iconic costume because I don’t have a date. But it’s fine. Staying at home in stretchy pants and hanging out in the kitchen was always the better option. Because Ryan isn’t Ty.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TY
I blastclassic rock as I close in on my address, ruminating on our win earlier today. It was satisfying to say the least. My ball return that put us ahead and the fact that I got no personal fouls were wins on their own, but the slaps on the back I received from half the team afterward are truly what made it all worth it. For the first time this season, I felt like I might actually belong with this team.
Warm light pours from each window as I pull into my driveway and park in the garage. Avery is up. She’s out of her room, and she’s letting her presence be known by igniting this place like it’s the Fourth of July. At first her habit of forgetting to turn the lights off was one of my least favorite things about having her here, but now, it fills me with a steady ease… that is immediately overshadowed by a hot anxiety.
Because Avery’s home. And she hasn’t spoken to me in days.
She kissed me. And then ghosted me. But I guess Iditched her first. Who does that? Who kisses the girl they’ve been pining after and immediately bolts to talk to their sister? Me, apparently. I’m no better for not breaking the silence.
Shutting my car door, I step up to the kitchen entrance and suck in one long, deep breath before shoving it open. My stomach does a flip at the sight of Avery perched at the counter.
“Howdy,” she starts. “Good game today.”
I drop my bag and grab a pack of my favorite beef jerky from beside the toaster. “You saw?”
“I couldn’t resist.” She taps a finger along the counter. “My parents were really impressed with that return.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. They couldn’t stop talking about it in the family group chat. Which I totally get because it was awesome.”
“Thanks.”
A silence follows that I’m not sure how to fill.
