Her eyes run over my face like she’s testing my confidence. When she doesn’t say anything, I start walking, ready to go home.
“I hope their asses get busted tonight, or at least they get benched. I’m not losing again.”
She walks beside me, scanning the parking lot. “You’re way too cool about this, Matthews. I need to know everything about that jackass.”
I laugh. “Didn’t you tell me I needed to be cool?” I’m pretty sure I hear her grunt. I take it as an affirmative. “It doesn’t do me any good to get all pissed off and worked up about something I can’t change. It burns energy I need to retain.”
“Are you ever not in football mode?”
“When it’s all you’ve known ever since you can remember, it’s difficult to change.”
She doesn’t say anything as we approach my car.
“But maybe that’s something I need to work on.”
She stops, her blue-green eyes meeting mine over the hood of my Range Rover. They’re intense but gentle, almost as if she understands.
After a moment, she rounds the car to inspect it.
I don’t know Ryder, but what I’m learning is there’s a whole lot more to her than meets the eye. The massive wound on her shoulder proved that. The fact that she bolted backward rather than let me help her was only another tiny piece to an intricate puzzle.
There’s so much hiding behind all those massive barriers she has in place, and as the days go by, I’m finding I really want her to let a few of them down.
She signals the all-clear, and I climb in. We proceed through the parking lot, passing fans hoping for an autograph as we exit. I usually stop and sign a few footballs and jerseys, but no more, at least for now.
“How long until pictures of us surface?” Her tone is lighter, as if she’s accepted this being a consequence of taking this job.
I glance at her. I didn’t have to see to know phones were pointed in our direction from the moment I approached her.
I run a hand over my jaw. “They’re. . .probably already out there.”
She mumbles something that sounds like, “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
I bite my cheeks to keep from smiling. Strangely, it’s starting to feel like we might be in this together.
Chapter 10
RYDER
JOS: Ryder and Cole sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
LYLA: All it took was 2 feet. 2 feet between you and the gorg athlete, and you’re hooking up. *laughing-crying face emoji*
LYLA: Get ready to be hated!!!!
LYLA: BTW. You looked cute today…even though you didn’t wear the CROP TOP I laid out.
JAMIE: Quit giving her a hard time. She doesn’t need more pressure.
VANESSA: Any luck scouting today?
JAMIE: You did look cute today. Can’t wait to hear about your new boyfriend. *Wink face emoji*
TRACKER: Shit. 4 days in, and you’re dating him now?
______
I pull on a T-shirt and some baggy sweatpants, ready to eat and decompress from an afternoon of overstimulation. After checking the apartment, Cole and I went our separate ways.
